With marvelous agility the young woman leapt through 3 ft. of open air and into the prison, the light of the room making two extraordinary things immediately apparent: first, the short hair above her delicate, beautiful features was a strange silver color; and second, she held in her hands a device--presumably a weapon--that was obviously more complex and sophisticated than any handgun I'd ever seen.

The woman trained the device first on one officer and then the other. Kuperman's man, Sweeney, had the good sense to drop his gun and head for the still intact doorway out of the room. But the second guard, Farkas, was foolish enough to let off a round from his pistol, even though his apparent fear made an accurate shot impossible. The bullet struck the wall above the woman, and she ducked for an instant; then she fixed her gray eyes on the guard with what seemed as much amusement as anger. Leveling the device in her hands at the man, she appeared on the verge of firing; but then she suddenly turned and trained the weapon on a desk that sat near the room's exit. She pulled what looked like a trigger, and then, without much of a sound, the desk was bombarded by a series of high-speed projectiles, reducing it to mere bits.

Had it been the guard's body she'd targeted, it would have completely disintegrated--just as John Price's had done.

Sensibly accepting this warning, the guard Farkas dropped his automatic and raced for the exit. Once he was gone, the woman pointed her weapon in the air, shifted her shapely weight to one side and smiled at Kuperman and me.

"Doctors," she said with a nod. Then she touched the high collar of her bodysuit. "It's all right!" she called, looking at the ceiling. "I've got them!" Turning to us again, she nodded toward the hole in the wall. "I hate to rush you, Eli, but--"

"Yes, do hurry, Dr. Wolfe," the woman said, approaching me coyly. "My brother's been anxious to meet you--and so have I." She studied my face and smiled that feline little smirk of hers. "You're not quite as attractive in person as in your author's photo, are you?"

Still stunned, I could only mumble, "Who is?," which prompted the woman to laugh devilishly and seize my hand.

"Can you make the jump?" she said. "Or do you want us to maneuver closer?"

I shook my head, finally getting a grip on myself. "I can make it," I answered. "But what--?"

"The jump first," she answered, pulling me at a run toward the hole in the wall. "After that, everything will make a lot more sense!"

And with her delicate but strong hand holding mine, I leapt out over the narrow corridor of open air beyond the prison wall, leaving the world and reality as I had always known them behind me forever.

TO BE CONTINUED

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