"You mean he wants me to play the spy?"

"Doesn't he? Didn't he make that suggestion?"

Again Morrison ignored the question. He said, "And since you are convinced I am to be a spy, you will have me executed after I do whatever it is you want me to do. Isn't that what happens to spies?"

"You've been viewing too many old-fashioned movies, Dr. Morrison. In the first place, we will see to it that you don't find out anything important - anything at all. In the second place, spies are too valuable a commodity to destroy. They are useful as trading units for any agents of ours that may be in American hands - or in foreign hands generally. I believe that the United States takes much the same attitude."

Morrison said, "To begin with, then, I am not a spy, madame. I am not going to be a spy. I know nothing about American intelligence operations. Also, I'm not going to do anything for you."

"I'm not at all sure about that, Dr. Morrison. I think you'll decide to work with us."

"What do you have in mind? Will you starve me till I agree? Beat me? Keep me in solitary confinement? Put me in a work camp?"

Boranova frowned and shook her head slowly in what seemed to be genuine shock. "Really, Doctor, what are these things you suggest? Are we back in the days when you were loudly proclaiming us to be an evil empire and inventing horror stories about us? I don't say that we might not be tempted to use strong measures if you intransigeantly refuse. Necessity drives sometimes, you know. - But we won't have to. I'm convinced of that."

"What convinces you?" Morrison asked wearily.

"You're a scientist. You're a brave man."

"I? Brave? Lady, lady, what do you know about me?"

"That you have a peculiar viewpoint. That you have upheld it all this time. That you have watched your career go downhill. That you have convinced nobody. And that, despite all this, you cling to your view and do not budge from what you are certain is right. Is not this the act of a brave man?"

Morrison nodded. "Yes. Yes. It is a kind of bravery. Still, there are a thousand crackpots in the history of science who clung all their lives to some ridiculous view against logic, against evidence, against their own self-interest. I may be just another one of them."

"In that case, you might be wrong, but you would still be brave. Do you think bravery is entirely a matter of physical daring?"

"I know it is not. There are all kinds of bravery and perhaps," he said bitterly, "every one of those kinds of bravery is a mark of insanity or, at any rate, folly."

"Surely you do not consider yourself a coward?"

"Why not? In some ways, I flatter myself by saying that I am sane."

"But mad in your stubborn views concerning neurophysics?"

"I would not be surprised."

"But surely you think your views are correct."

"Certainly, Dr. Boranova. That would be part of my madness, would it not?"

Boranova shook her head. "You are not a serious man. I've said that before. My countryman Shapirov thinks you're right - or, if not right, at least a genius."

"Next best thing, certainly. Part of his madness, too."

"Shapirov's opinion is very special."

"To you, I'm sure. - Look, lady, I am tired. I am so groggy, I don't know what I'm saying. I'm not sure all this is real. I hope it isn't. Let me just - just rest a little."

Boranova sighed and a look of concern entered her eyes. "Yes, of course, my poor friend. We wish you no harm. Please believe that."

Morrison let his head bow down on his chest. His eyes closed. Dimly, he felt himself pushed gently to one side and a pillow placed under his head.

Time passed. A dreamless time.

When he opened his eyes, he was still on the plane. There were no lights, but he knew without any doubt whatever that he was still on the plane.

He said, "Dr. Boranova?"

She replied instantly, "Yes, Dr. Morrison?"

"We're not being pursued?"

"Not at all. There are several of our own planes flying distant interference, but they have had nothing to do. Come, my friend, we want you and your government wants us to have you."

"And you still insist that you have miniaturization? That it is not madness? Or a hoax?"

"You will see for yourself. And you will see what a wonder it is, so that you will want to be part of it. You will demand to be part of it."

"And what will you be doing with it," asked Morrison thoughtfully, "assuming this is not an elaborate joke you are playing on me? Do you plan to make a weapon of it? Transport an army in a plane like this? Infiltrate each land with an invisible host? That sort of thing?"

"How revolting!" She cleared her throat as though she were tempted to spit with disgust. "Have we not enough land? Enough people? Enough resources? Have we not our large share of space? Are there not more important things to do with miniaturization? Can it be that you are so twisted and distorted that you do not see what it will mean as a research tool? Imagine the study of living systems that it will make possible; the study of crystal chemistry and solid-state systems; the construction of ultraminiaturized computers and devices of all sorts. Think further of what we might learn of physics if we can alter Planck's constant to suit ourselves. What might we not learn of cosmology?"

Morrison struggled to sit upright. He was still woozy, but there was an incipient dawn outside the plane windows and he could see Boranova very dimly.

He said, "Is that what you wish to do with it, then? Noble scientific endeavors?"

"What would your government do with it if you had it? Try to achieve a sudden military superiority and restore the bad old days?"

"No. Of course not."

"So that only you are noble and only we are terribly evil? Do you honestly believe that? - It may be, of course, that if miniaturization becomes sufficiently successful, the Soviet Union may achieve a lead in the development of a space-centered society. Think of transporting miniaturized material from one world to another, of sending a million colonists in a spaceship that would house only two or three human beings of normal size. Space will acquire a Soviet coloring, a Soviet tinge - not because the Soviet people will dominate and be masters, but because Soviet thought will have won in the battle of ideas. And what is wrong with that?"

Morrison shook his head in the dimness. "Then I certainly won't help you. Why should you expect me to? I won't fasten Soviet thought on the Universe. I prefer American thought and tradition."

"You think you do and I don't blame you for it. But we will persuade you. You will see."

"You won't."

Boranova said, "My dear friend Albert - if I may call you that. I have said that we will be admired for our progress. Do you think you will be immune? - But let us leave such discussions for another time."

She pointed out the plane window at the gray sea beneath, which was just becoming visible.

"We are now over the Mediterranean," she said, "and soon we will be over the Black Sea and then across the Volga to Malenkigrad - Smalltown, in English, eh? - and the sun will have risen when we land. That will be symbolic. A new day. New light. I predict you will be eager to help us establish this new day and I would not be surprised if you never wish to leave the Soviet Union again."

"Without your forcing me to stay?"

"We will fly you home freely if you ask us to - once you have helped us."

"I won't help you."

"You will."

"And I demand now that I be returned."

"Now doesn't count," said Boranova cheerfully.

And they flew the last several hundred kilometers to Malenkigrad.