"They would not have been willing to have you back before you had a chance to help us or" - her eyes looked into his rather sternly - "from their point of view, spied on us. But now that you have done your part - and I'm sure they will be aware of that somehow - they will demand you back."

"And you must send me back. You promised that over and over."

"We will keep our promise."

"Nor need you think I have spied on you, I have seen nothing you have not let me see."

"I know that. Yet, when you return to your own country, do you imagine that you will not be questioned exhaustively on what you have seen?"

Morrison shrugged. "That was the consequence you must have accepted when you brought me here."

"True and we won't let it keep us from returning you. It is quite certain you won't be able to tell your people anything they don't already know. They poke their noses into our affairs carefully and skillfully -"

"As your people poke their noses into ours -" said Morrison with some indignation.

"Undoubtedly," said Boranova with a negligent wave of her hand. "Of course, you will be able to tell them of our success, but we don't really object to their knowing. To this day, Americans insist on believing that Soviet science and technology is second-class. It will do us good to teach them a lesson in this. One thing, though -"

"Ah," said Morrison.

"Not a large thing, but a lie. You must not say we brought you here by force. In any public mention of this matter, you must state - if the question arises - that you came here voluntarily, in order to test your theories under conditions not available to you elsewhere in the world. It is a totally likely thing. Who would disbelieve you?"

"My government knows otherwise."

"Yes, but they will themselves urge you to tell the lie. They are as little eager as we are to plunge the world into a crisis over this. Aside from the fact that crises between the United States and the Soviet Union would instantly antagonize the rest of the world against both of us in these so-called good new days, the United States will no more wish to admit they had let you be taken than we would to admit we had taken you. Come, Albert, it is a small thing."

Morrison sighed. "If you return me now, as you say you will do, I will keep quiet about this small matter of kidnapping."

"You use the conditional. You say 'if.'" Boranova was grim. "You clearly find it troublesome to believe me to be a person of honor. Why? Because I am a Soviet. Two generations of peace, two generations of getting along, and your old habits persist. Is there to be no hope for humanity?"

"Good new days or not, we still don't like your system of government."

"Who gives you the right to judge us? We don't like yours, either. - But never mind. If we begin to quarrel, that will spoil what should be a happy day for you - and what is a happy day for me."

"Very well. We will not quarrel."

"Then let us say good-bye now, Albert, and someday we will meet again under more normal circumstances I am sure." She held out her hand to him and he took it. She went on, "I have asked Sophia to escort you back to the hotel and to make the arrangements for your leaving. You will not object to that, I'm sure."

Morrison pressed her hand strongly. "No. I rather like Sophia."

Boranova smiled. "I had sensed that somehow."

It was a happy day for Boranova and her exhaustion did not prevent her from enjoying it.

Exhaustion! How many days of rest, how many nights of sleep, how long a stretch at home with Nikolai and Aleksandr would it take to cure that?

But she was alone now and for a period of time there would be nothing to do. Seize the moment!

Boranova stretched out luxuriously on the couch in her office and gave herself over to a curious jumble of thought - now a commendation from Moscow, with a promotion, all mixed up with days on the beach at Crimea with her husband and son. It became almost real as she slept and dreamed that she was pursuing little Aleksandr as he marched firmly into the cold waters of the Black Sea in heedless lack of concern over the possibility of drowning himself. She was carrying a drum that she was beating wildly in order to attract the attention he stubbornly refused to give her.

And the vision broke apart and faded and the drumbeat was a hammering at the door.

She rose with a confused effort, smoothed the blouse she was wearing, and strode to the door in hasty concern. This turned to fury when she threw it open and found Konev frowning darkly, his fist raised to renew his assault.

"What is this, Yuri?" she said indignantly. "Is this your way of announcing yourself? There are signals."

"Which no one answered, though I knew you to be within."

Boranova motioned him in with a quick gesture of her head. She was not anxious to see him and he was not a pleasant sight.

She said, "Haven't you slept at all? You look awful."

"I haven't had time. I've been working."

"At what?"

"At what do you suppose, Natalya? At the data we obtained yesterday in the brain."

Boranova felt her anger seep away. After all, it was Konev whose dream this had been. The success of survival was sweet for everyone but Konev. Only he felt the failure.

She said, "Sit down, Yuri. Try to face it. The thought analysis didn't work - and it couldn't. Shapirov was too far gone. Even as we went in, he was on the point of death."

Konev looked at Boranova blankly, as though totally disregarding her words. "Where is Albert Morrison?"

"There's no use in hounding him, Yuri. He did what he could, but Shapirov's was a dying brain. - Listen to me. It was a dying brain."

Again that blank look. "What are you talking about, Natalya?"

"The data we got. The supposed data that you're struggling with. Let it go. The voyage has been a marvelous success even without it."

Konev shook his head. "A marvelous success without it? You don't know what you're saying. Where is Morrison?"

"He's gone, Yuri. It's finished. He's on his way back to the United States. As we promised."

Konev's eyes opened wide. "But that's impossible. He can't go. He mustn't go."

"Well, now," said Boranova calmly. "What are you talking about?"

Konev rose to his feet. "I went over the data, you stupid woman, and it's all plain. We must keep Morrison. At all costs, we must keep him."

Boranova's face reddened. "How dare you insult me, Yuri? Explain yourself at once or I will have you suspended from this project. What is this new mad fixation of yours on Albert?"

Konev lifted his hands halfway upward, as though impelled by an overwhelming desire to strike out at something, with nothing present to strike at.

He gasped, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I withdraw the adjective. But you must understand. All through our stay in the brain - all the time we were trying to tap Shapirov's thoughts - Albert Morrison was lying to us. He knew what was happening. He must have known and he carefully led us in the wrong direction. We must have him, Natalya, and we must have his device. We can never let him go."