“Damn. They’re monitoring me. You said you sent the package, right?” She heard her mother’s doorbell ring.

“Yes. Are these guys going to be unhappy about that?”

“Probably.” Now there was a loud banging. Somebody pounding on her door.

The commlink clicked. “Mom, you there?” She was gone. She called again. And listened to her phone ringing until finally a voice informed her that the party she was trying to reach was not available. Damn. They must’ve had a monitor in the cab. Or, more likely, they’d inserted one in her commlink.

Her instinct was to make directly for Cherry Hill. But that wouldn’t be a good idea. Just get her in deeper. Not to mention that it would take three hours. She could call Crispee. But that might give him away as well. She sat undecided, watching the fluttering leaves of October drifting down onto the windshield. Finally, the taxi pulled up in front of her home. She paid up, got out of the cab, got into her car, and went down to Keifer’s Electronics. She bought a new commlink, gave it the same code, and junked the old one.

On the way home, she got Cosmic’s number from Information and made the call. They picked up on the third ring. She identified herself and asked to be connected to Jack Crispee. A phone rang at the other end as the car pulled into her driveway. She got out and stood, watching tree branches across the street sway gently in the wind. A bus went by. And a couple of kids tossed a ball around.

Finally, Crispee answered. “Hi, Priscilla. Good to hear from you again.”

“Hello, Jack. My mom sent you a package. Teresa Hutchins. Did you receive it?”

“Teresa Hutchins?”

“Yes.”

“How could I have missed that? Hold on.” One of the kids threw the ball over his pal’s head and it bounced across her lawn.

“I got nothing,” said Crispee. “Did she send it to me?”

“No. We didn’t have your number. She sent it to Cosmic Broadcasting. Your name would have been on it, though.”

“Give me a second to check.” He was talking to somebody as she let herself into the house. Then: “Yes, it’s here.”

“Good. The WSA won’t be happy about it, and they may try to prevent your using it. But if you want it, it’s yours.”

“Let me take a look.”

He was back in about five minutes. “Hutch, perfect. Is this for real? They really there?”

“Yes. They came back with us.”

“Okay, give me a chance to watch the rest of it and I’ll get back to you. We’ll break it tonight.”

“You probably don’t have until tonight. The Feds may be getting a subpoena now. Also, they’re sending the Volarians back home. I’m not sure when, but I suspect it’ll be as quickly as they can.”