"They destroyed themselves," Arthur said quietly, walking around the craters, careful not to disturb anything.

"That's bloody impossible!" Bent screamed.

"Not at all." Arthur felt deeply chilled, as if he had swallowed a lump of dry ice. "Have you read Liddell Hart?"

"What in God's name are you talking about?" Bent shouted, fists clenched, approaching Arthur and then backing away, without apparent aim. Rotterjack stayed clear of the men and the craters.

"Sir Basil Liddell Hart's Strategy"

"I've read it," Rotterjack said.

"You're crazy," French said. "You're all bleeding crazy!"

"We have the incident on tape," Forbes said, holding up his hands to calm his colleagues. "We must review it. We can see if any projectile or weapon struck them."

Arthur knew very well he was not crazy. It was making sense to him now. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'll explain when everybody's in a better frame of mind."

"Fuck that!" Bent said, regaining some composure. "I want the physics group out here immediately. I want a message sent to the Rock now. If there's a war beginning here, let's not give the impression we started it."

"We've never sent or received transmissions from the Rock," Forbes said, shaking his head.

"I do not care. Send transmissions, as many frequencies as we can handle. This message: 'Not responsible for destruction of envoys.' Got that?"

Forbes nodded and returned to the trailer to relay the orders.

"Mr. Gordon, I'll try very hard to put myself in a suitable frame of mind. What the hell has strategy to do with this?" Bent asked, standing on the opposite side of the three craters.

"The indirect approach," Arthur said.

"Meaning?"

"Never come at your adversary from an expected direction, or with your goals clear."

Bent, whatever his state of mind, caught on quickly. "You're saying this has all been a ruse?"

"I think so."

"But then your Guest is a ruse, too. Why would they tell us they're going to destroy the planet, and then make that seem like a sham . . . tell us they're going to save us, and that's a sham, too?"

"I don't know," Arthur said. "To confuse us."

"Goddammit, man, they're powerful beyond our wildest dreams! They build mountains overnight, travel across space in huge ships, and if what you say is true, they dismantle whole worlds—why bother to deceive us? Do we send greetings to bleeding ants' nests before we trample them?"

Arthur could not answer this. He shook his head and held up his hands. The heat made him dizzy. Oddly—or not so oddly—what worried him most now was how the President would react when he learned what had happened here.

"We have to talk to Hicks first," he told Rotterjack as they climbed aboard a truck to be taken back to the outer perimeter.

"Why? Aren't we all in enough trouble already?"

"Hicks . . . might be able to explain things to the President. In a way he'll listen to."