Glinda came back from wherever she had been. She said, briskly, "Now. It's very doubtful that your people, the Americans, will be able to open a way at ground level. For some reason, the weak places in the walls now seem to exist above the surface of the two worlds. The Americans won't be able to send through ground troops. What are their chances for sending in an army in the flying machines?"

Hank thought for about thirty seconds before speaking.

"The Americans don't have any large transport airplanes, civilian or military. They could buy some from the British, I suppose, but they would have a tough time keeping that from the public. And, as of now anyway, the whole project is highly secret. They could send in two-seater planes and some bombers, but the biggest bombers we have, in the Army, anyway, don't carry more than three men. But the planes would also have to carry supplies, ammunition, and weapons. That means that they couldn't carry the full complement.

"Of course, if they operated quickly enough, they could establish a base which the first wave could defend while shuttle aircraft brought in more soldiers and supplies. But... I don't know. If they wanted to keep the operation secret for some time, it'd have to be a small one. The more people involved, the higher the chance of someone talking."

"What if the officials decide to tell the public?"

"They wouldn't, I think, do that until their hand is forced. They don't want other nations to know about this until they're sure they've got a monopoly here. Also, they'd be risking reaction from their own people. There's a lot of sentimentality about the fictional Land of Oz. Many people would be outraged if they knew that the military was invading this world. To tell the truth, I don't know what they're thinking there, what they hope to do."

Glinda, looking very determined, said, "What I want is the cutting-off of communication and travel between the two worlds. At least until the time, if it ever comes, that your world is more civilized."

Hank's face burned, but he said nothing.

Glinda sipped some berry juice, then said, "I've been considering for some time whether or not to tell you a certain thing. I decided this morning to let you know about it. I want you to put it in your report to your people."

She paused. Hank said, "Yes?"

"I've had hawks circling the area where the green cloud has been forming. The next-to-last time that the green cloud appeared, one of my hawks went through it into your world at my order. When the gate formed the last time, she came back through."

Hank said quickly, "Was she still sentient?"

Glinda nodded and said, "Which means that, though your world does not generate mind-spirits, mind-spirits can exist there."

That news would frighten those who knew about the project. That is, it would if they believed him.

But... was Glinda telling the truth? Or had she made up this just to scare the authorities?

"There's only one way to convince them of that," he said. "When the gate next appears, send a hawk through. They can't ignore a talking bird."

Glinda laughed and said, "But they can't speak Quadling!"

"That won't matter. They can get a Gothic scholar, and he'll be able to work out the sound-changes and grammatical changes and most of the vocabulary. The only trouble is, they'll have to swear him to secrecy. But they might not trust him to keep his mouth shut. Any scholar would have a hell of a time not telling others about an intelligent talking bird."

"Would your people let the hawk come back after they'd studied her?"

Hank hesitated, then said, "I don't know. Well... I doubt it. Not for a long time, anyway. She'd have to be studied thoroughly, and that would take months, maybe a year. Even then..."

"I won't send one of my people into prison," Glinda said.

Hank did not say so, but he thought that the hawk would probably be killed eventually. The scientists would want to dissect her after they had exhausted all study of the living creature. They would be very curious about her brain-nerve structure.

"Why can't you just send them moving pictures of you and others talking to the hawk along with a phonograph recording?"

"I can, but they'd think it was faked."

"If they did think so, they'd have to believe that you were a traitor."

Hank was startled. After a few seconds, he said, "Not necessarily. They might, probably would, believe that I was being coerced. And that would give them an excuse for sending in an invasion force to rescue me."

"And, since we would resist them, declare war on us?"

"They couldn't do that officially, that is, publicly, unless they wanted to let everybody know about this world."

Glinda smiled. "Complicated, isn't it? Human affairs are always so."

Hank did not reply. A moment later, Glinda dismissed him. He went to the hangar and began the disassembling of Jenny needed for inspection and repair. She was long overdue for them. Jenny asked him what he was doing; she seemed nervous about being taken apart. He explained, and then he had to answer many questions about other things. Jenny was always trying to educate herself. When he was not around, she bugged the mechanics and anybody else, human or animal, within range of her voice.

He quit working a half hour before supper, and he gave his helpers some drawings and instructions for gaskets they should make. After eating, he and Lamblo went to the weekly entertainment held in the ballroom. This consisted of jugglers, acrobats, fire-eaters, jesters, clowns, and a two-act play based on a Quadling legend. Hank got bored, but he could not leave before Glinda did. Fortunately, she was even more bored, having seen much the same acts for three hundred years. She left after forty minutes, and Hank and Lamblo retired to his apartment.

A servant, a cute brunette named Mizdo, woke him at dawn. He had left word that he should be awakened then because he wanted to put in a full day on the plane. Mizdo, however, was not just carrying out her duty as alarm clock. She was wide-eyed and a little pale and agitated. "The queen says that you are to come at once!"

Lamblo sat up, blinking and saying, "What? What?"

"Not you, Captain!" Mizdo said. "Hank the Giant!"

He was out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. Over his shoulder, he said, "What's up?"

Mizdo pointed a tiny finger at the French windows. "There! There!"

Hank whirled, and, the nightshirt flapping against his ankles, strode to the windows. These were locked and barred because of possible attack by Erakna's hawk assassins. He opened them and stepped out onto the balcony. The sun had cleared the horizon. To the south, high in the air, was a green, roughly rectangular shape. The opening. But it was far larger than before. It had to be as big as two football fields put together.

"What's going on?" Hank said. "They're not due yet!"

The haze began shrinking, but, when it was the size of half a football field, it stopped. Hank watched it for two minutes without noting any change in it. Then, remembering that the queen had summoned him and that it was not wise to keep her waiting, he tore himself away from the spectacle. Ten minutes later, he was in Glinda's suite.

"What do you make of that?" she said.

The haze was still of the same dimensions.

"They've found some way to stabilize the opening," he said. "They're conducting an experiment, a test."

"It's a good thing that Jenny can't fly just now," she said. "Otherwise, you might be trying to escape."

"Never," he said.

"They could fly in an army of planes now, couldn't they?"

"Yes, but I doubt they will. As I said, they need secrecy..."

"Perhaps they don't now."

"We can do nothing but wait and see."

The cloud suddenly dwindled and disappeared as if it were a green handkerchief pulled back through a hole in the sky.