Part 7 (1/1)

For a long moment he stood stiff as steel, staring into my eyes. Then his hand shot up, palm out, in a gesture of farewell, and he turned and disappeared into the s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p.

I got a barrage of questions then. I held up a hand to quiet my friends. ”Some other time, gentlemen. I've got to get to Was.h.i.+ngton just as fast as a jet plane can get me there.”

”If it's that urgent,” Luke said, ”call him on the phone and reverse the charges.”

I scowled at him. ”Call who?”

”The President. Isn't he the reason you're in such a hurry?”

”No! I've got to get to bed.”

”Bed? If you're that tired--”

”Who said anything about being tired?” I demanded. ”Being tired has nothing to do with it.”

”Then what--”

”It seems,” I said, ”there's a black lace nightgown....”