“Good. Could it be called continuous modulation?”

“Yes. But it modulates a sort of hybrid wave, not hyperwaves as we know them.”

“Good. That seems like a small distinction.” Particularly since she didn't know what any of it meant. “That must be what the aliens are talking about.

“Let's go,” she said.

“We're well ahead of time,” Jacob said.

“Drive slow,” she said as she walked out of the apartment with Jacob trailing closely behind.

He had requisitioned a small nonautomated runabout the night before, but not without some difficulty. With the evacuation at its peak, transport vehicles were in short supply.

Main Street was bumper-to-bumper with traffic, but it was all moving briskly so that Jacob, following her instructions to drive slowly, parted the traffic like a rock in a turbulent river. All eight lanes were flowing northbound to expedite the transfer of materiel.

Still, they arrived at the dome opening at 9:40 AM, more than twenty minutes ahead of time. At the dome opening, the street narrowed to four lanes and then turned into a dirt road a few meters north of the dome.

Wohler-9 was already standing vigil on the west side of the opening where the meeting with the aliens would again take place. This time she did not plan to make Wohler-9 a participant.

“Drive on north, Jacob,” Ariel said. “I don't want to appear anxious.”

She knew she must sound inconsistent, edgy to leave one moment, reluctant to arrive the next. She had to remind herself that he was just a robot and couldn't care, and so didn't judge her one way or the other. It was a good thing. She already felt inadequate enough.

Ten minutes later, Jacob said, “We are at the halfway turnaround point, Miss Ariel.”

She had been deep in her dome problem, still unable to think of anything that could serve to stall the aliens further. The closure of the dome seemed inevitable.

“Fine,” she said and glanced at him. “Let's turn around.”

For just a second, a quick thrill of affection for Jacob coursed through her mind. He was such a handsome hulk and so thoughtful and caring.

He was clad in an attractive, short-sleeve top of loose weave that she had picked out. She had selected it for this occasion because of its casualness. She was clad informally as well. She didn't want the aliens thinking she was toadying up to them, no matter that they might not be able to classify her attire one way or the other. It was more a matter of establishing the proper frame of mind-in her mind.

She reached over impulsively and patted him on the forearm. She put out of her mind the thought that he was incapable of not being thoughtful and caring, incapable of acting otherwise, and programmed so. And he was a handsome hulk.

He gave her a quick glance in turn.

“Is there something else, Miss Ariel?”

“Oh, yes, Jacob. There is. I just hadn't anticipated it back on Aurora when I first asked for your companionship.”

After all, he was only a robot. She kept telling herself that, over and over.

“Then I can be of further service?” Jacob said, questioning.

“You could, indeed, Jacob. It's just that I can't accept that service, no matter how delightful I might find it.”

And then there popped into her mind the image of Derec, waving, standing far away at the end of a long row of waving green corn. And she wondered where that memory came from. She had never been in a cornfield with Derec. Not that she could remember.

And that brought her back to her present responsibility, which was more an obligation to Derec, to carry out his wishes, for she had only negative feelings for the robot city otherwise.

Still, the obligation remained.

“Do you see any sign of the aliens, Jacob?” she asked.

“Possibly,” Jacob said. “I see three blackbodies that have just descended into a circular flight pattern around the dome.”

“Can you time our return so that we arrive just after they have landed?”

“I will endeavor to do so.”

He succeeded.

She got out of the runabout, walked over to face the aliens, and decided not to bow. Jacob stood to one side and slightly behind her.

Affecting a faint note of haughtiness, she said, “Good morning, ambassadors.”

They had called themselves leaders the day before, but she refused to use that term for fear they might misconstrue themselves to be her leaders.

“Gud mahnin', Miz Ahyahl Wilsh,” the middle alien said.

Ariel could not help smiling broadly. The Webster Grove accent took her by surprise again, but she immediately set her mind to eliminate it from consideration so as to avoid the less-than-serious attitude she had briefly lapsed into the day before.

“This is my assistant, Neuronius,” the middle alien continued, bunching on the right side what looked like a shoulder in silhouette, “and this is my third in command, Axonius,” and he bunched his silhouette on the left.

Ariel responded by inclining her head in the appropriate direction as each was introduced, a casual, restrained acknowledgment short of a pronounced nod.

The alien did not use the grand gesture that Sarco had used the day before when he had introduced Synapo, but it still left Ariel wondering whether she was dealing with Synapo or Sarco.

Here she was, on thin ice already, and the meeting had just begun. She guessed that it must be Synapo. It was he who had dominated the meeting the day before. On the other hand, these others were subordinates. They did not rate the grand gesture, even if this were Sarco.

She had nothing with which to parley except the analysis of hyperwave modulation that Jacob and Keymo had concocted at her prodding. And if this were Synapo, and if she had construed properly-that his green flaming the day before was an impatient assessment of Sarco's complaint-then it must have been a trivial complaint in Synapo's mind and not much of a bargaining chip for her side.

Not knowing for sure whom she was dealing with, she decided to stall.

She said, “I trust that you have now concluded that closing the dome does not have any immediate importance since it is already ninety-nine-point-two percent effective.”

“On the contrary, we feel it would be better to close the compensator and to completely enclose any such creations in the future,” the alien replied. “Although the emissions from the creation that Wohler-9 calls a city have been brought under control, we are still concerned, for the city may merely be a harbinger of worse things yet, things that lie off-world and are yet to be inflicted upon us.”

“I can assure you that no such dire things exist. We merely want to share this planet with you and are quite willing to go to great lengths to insure our mutual compatibility.”

“That would be more reassuring if it were to come from a leader. That would be a member of your he clan, if I downloaded Wohler-9 correctly.”

Another male chauvinist like Wohler-9, Ariel thought. This big bat had to be a male. Clearly.

The entire universe was filled with insufferable males.

“Not necessarily. Women-our she clan as you describe them -have often been leaders, and able leaders, functioning quite as well as men-our he clan.”

“But most leaders are still members of the he clan. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Ariel was forced to reply.

The discussion was certainly not going well. Ariel decided to risk her only bargaining chip in an effort to turn things around.

Without giving the other a chance to respond, she said, “But let's get back to the main points of our discussion, the things we have been doing that are disturbing to you. We do not wish to disturb you in any way and are willing to go far to insure that that does not occur.

“For instance, we can change our modulation of hyperwave from discrete to continuous so as not to disrupt your listening comfort.”