“Because he was not, and as a token of American goodwill toward the USSR and towards all the nations of the world, I have agreed to allow a Soviet team of scientists and specialists to join the Americans currently studying what has been known as the Midlothian object. We will fully share what we have learned to this point with the USSR, and everything the American and Soviet teams discover together from now on will also be equally shared.

“The United States takes this action in the spirit of world peace and mutual understanding between nations. If humanity succeeds in unlocking this spaceship’s secrets, worlds beyond count may be there for the taking. That is my deepest, most sincere hope. Thank you, and God bless the United States of America. Good night.”

In a way, Jerry admired the speech. Gerald Ford had made Let us in, too, or we’ll blow up the world seem mild and friendly. That wasn’t easy. And Ford must have been sure the Russians weren’t kidding, either. He never would have yielded ground unless he was. If you didn’t already know what was going on, you’d hardly realize he was backing down.

Jerry jerked when the phone on the nightstand rang. He hesitated before answering. Had some reporter found out who he was and where he was staying? “Hello?” he said warily.

“A spaceship? You were working on a spaceship?” That was no reporter—that was his wife.

“Hi, hon. Good to hear from you,” Jerry said. “Yeah, I was, but I couldn’t tell you.”

“Well, of course not! I get that!” Anna said.

The night before, she’d wondered if she really knew him. Now he wasn’t sure he would ever understand her.

XVII

He was not surprised to find Yakov Bronstein waiting for him in the lobby again when he went down to eat breakfast the next morning. The Washington Post the assistant military attaché was looking at had photos of Humpty Dumpty and a centaurowl under the headline WE ARE NOT ALONE!

“Dobry den, Yakov Moiseyevich,” Jerry said.

“Good morning.” Bronstein stuck to English. His was certainly better than Jerry’s Russian. “Would you join me once more? The ambassador has asked me to ask something of you.”

“Has he?” Jerry wondered whether this was the hook, about to snag him so the Russians could reel him in. They’d done something for him: they’d kept him alive. If they thought he owed them something in return, they wouldn’t hesitate to go after it. The CIA wouldn’t have, either; Jerry was sure of that.

“That’s right,” the major said lightly. “Let’s get some food, and then we’ll talk.”

“How can I say no?” Jerry replied. They walked to the restaurant. A woman who wore a big Afro led them to a table. The attendant with the coffee nodded to Jerry, ever so slightly, as he filled their cups.