"Whatever they are," said Jerry, "they are still making them, or building them, or budding them, or whatever you may call it."

The sight of the long straight rows of cars had so fastened Kathy's attention that she had paid but slight attention to the visitors. But now, when she looked, she saw that all three were in the process of budding, although the buds were not the shapes that they had been when the visitors had been producing young. Rather the buds were elongated and lumpy.

A bud burst open on the visitor that was nearest them and from it began to emerge one of the things that looked like a car. It gleamed wetly, but as she watched, the wetness dried, revealing a glossy yellow sheen.

"It's a yellow one," said Jerry. "Did you notice that the ears are of different colors. Reds and greens and grays-all the colors you could ask."

Slowly the yellow ear emerged from the bud and finally dropped off. It came to rest, floating a few inches above the ground. Quickly, it swung about and scooted swiftly toward the nearest line of ears. It swung precisely into line and halted, stationing itself next to a green car. On the other side of the green car was a red one.

"How cute," said Kathy, delighted. "They come in every color."

"I was just telling you that," said Jerry, "but you didn't listen."

"Those can't be cars," said Kathy. "I know they look like ears, but they just can't be. 'What would the visitors want with cars?"

"I wouldn't know," said Jerry, "but they do look like ears. Futuristic ears. Like the pipedream of a car designer who is intent on catching the public eye. They haven't any wheels, of course, but they don't need wheels; they float. These ears, if that is what they are, must operate on the same principle as the visitors themselves. They should because they are children of the visitors, but in a somewhat different shape."

"Why should they be budding children in the shape of ears? Why would they want youngsters in the shape of cars?"

"Maybe," said Jerry, "because they are really cars and are meant for us."

"For us?"

"Think, Kathy. Think about it. The visitors came here and found what they were looking for. They found trees from which they could process cellulose. It may be that these ears are payment for the trees."

"That's ridiculous," said Kathy. "Why pay us anything? They came and found the trees and took them. They could just keep on taking them. And for us, you said. We don't need this many ears. We couldn't use them in a lifetime. There must be a hundred of them, maybe more than that."

"Not just for us. Not just for you and me. For the people of the country."

"They couldn't make enough of them."

"I think they could. There are just three visitors here. They have been here for less than a week. In that time, they've budded more than a hundred ears. Take a thousand visitors, or ten thousand visitors, give them six months . .

"I suppose you're right," said Kathy. "They could make a lot of ears. Come to think of it, 101 told you to come here. She knew what you'd find. She wanted you to find them."

"Probably not 101 alone," said Jerry. "The visitors wanted us to find them. 101 was just the spokesman. Each one of these things, more than likely, knows what the rest of them are doing. A sort of hive communication. When 101 first landed, she sent out signals to the others. They can talk among themselves."

"You think the visitors want us to spread the word about the cars.

"We are being used," said Jerry. "That must be it, we are being used. We are the PR people for the visitors. We may be a test team as well. I don't know. Maybe they want us to see if the ears can be operated in a satisfactory way. They can't be sure, perhaps. They know a lot about us, but maybe they aren't sure that they know enough. When a car manufacturer designs a new model, the model must be tested . .

"And they picked you because you are a special person to them," Kathy said. "You were the first to be inside one of them, to communicate with them. Maybe the only person. These stories of other people taken up may be only . .

"101 shook hands with you. You're forgetting that."

"Yes, but how could 101 be sure I'd be here with you? How could she know you'd phone me?"

"Maybe she didn't. Maybe. .

"Maybe what?"

"Kathy, these things could be smarter than we possibly could guess. They could read us like a book."

"Suddenly," said Kathy, "I feel all shivery inside. I've never been afraid of them before, but now I am afraid. I have the feeling it could be a trap. Some sort of trap that we are falling into, not even knowing we are falling into it."

"A trap, perhaps," said Jerry, "and, yet, they are making ears for us. Cars that can float, that possibly can fly. No need of roads; they can go anywhere. They'll need no gasoline. They may last forever, never need repair. Giving them to us as payment for the trees. As payment for the cellulose that will allow them to have young again, averting racial death. If you were facing racial extinction, wouldn't you make cars-or anything they wanted-for the race that saved you?"

"You're way ahead of me," said Kathy. "I can't accept the thought that these are actually cars and that they are being made for us. You talk as if you're sure. How can you be so sure?"

"Maybe from something that was told me by 101. Something I didn't know at the time, but am realizing now. It makes sense, I tell' you. It is reasonable. They have had a look at us. They have seen what it is we want. They read us, Kathy. They know the kind of things we are. They know how to buy us. They know what we'll sell our souls for and "You sound bitter, Jerry."

4'Not bitter. Just realizing what is happening. And that we can't stop it. Even if we turned around and walked away, we couldn't stop it. Someone else would find the cars. And maybe it's right that the cars should be found. Maybe in the end it will work out right. But they're too smart for us. The human race is a Yankee trader and we have met our match."

"We have stood here, talking," Kathy said. "We've tried to talk ourselves into believing a sort of fairy tale. All we've done is talk. I still can't think that they are cars. I can't be sure they're cars.~~ "Let's go," said Jerry, "and see if they really are."

45. MINNEAPOLIS.

It was Gold's day off and Jay, coming back to the newsroom from a late lunch, stopped by the city desk and sat down in Gold's chair. Garrison was hunched over his desk, idly making doodles on a sheet of copy paper. Annie sat in her corner. She had finished a sandwich she had brought as her lunch and now was peeling an orange, making an artistic job of it.

"Anything happening?" Jay asked the city editor.

Garrison shook his head. "Nothing here. Nothing anywhere else, I guess. Hal tells me the wires are coming up empty, so far as the visitors are concerned. There have been reported sightings in Texas and Montana, but they've not been confirmed."

"We wait," said Jay. "That is all we can do. We did all we could. We phoned dozens of people in the state. Please let us know if you hear any thing. Editors of weekly papers, sheriffs, mayors, businessmen, friends of ours. If they hear anything, they will let us know."

"I'm trying to think," said Garrison. "There must have been more that we could have done."

"It's not your problem, Johnny. Not yours alone."

"I know, but dammit, I would like to be the one who found the answer. Some little clue as to where the visitors may have gone.~~ "And why they went."

"Yes, I know. But that can come later. First, we have to find them. Something to put out on page one. My guess would be northern Minnesota, up in the wilderness area. They may be hiding out there. .

"Or Canada. Or the Pacific Northwest," said Jay. "There is a lot of wild country they could be holing up in."

The city desk phone rang. Annie put down the orange and picked up the receiver.

"It's for you, Johnny," she said. "It's Kathy. She's on three."

Garrison clawed for the phone, signaling Jay to pick up Gold's phone.

"Kathy, where the hell are you? What you got?"

"I'm in Iowa," Kathy said. "Place called Dick's Landing. On the Mississippi. I'm with Jerry."

"Jerry?"

"Yes, you remember. The big oaf I was going to go to the concert with. That time you bought the tickets."

"Yes, I remember. What's all this got to do with you being down in Iowa?"

"We found three of the visitors, Johnny. On Goose Island "To hell with the rest of it. The visitors. What about the visitors? What are they doing?"

''They are making cars.~~ "Kathy. Don't kid me. Don't make any jokes. I've had a hell of a day so far. I can't stand any more."

"They are making ears. We have two of them. We flew them from the island. I have a yellow one and Jerry has a red one. They're easy to handle . .

"You said flew. You flew a car?"

"You can fly them. They haven't any wheels. They float, like the visitors float. They're not hard to operate, once you get the hang of it. It took the two of us no more than an hour or so to find out how to run them. There are things you push. Like having a plane. And there is no danger. If you're about to run into something, they veer off. Without you doing anything, they veer off..."

"Kathy," said Garrison, icily, "tell me the truth, for Christ's sake. You really have these ears?"

Jay spoke into the phone. "Kathy, this is Jay. I'm on the line with Johnny. This is no joke, is it? You really have the cars?"

"You're damned right we have them."

Garrison said, "Kathy, get hold of yourself. You're not making sense. What are they making ears for?"

"We don't really know," said Kathy. "We can't be sure, that is. We think they may be making them as payment for the trees they took. But we don't really know; it's only what we think. It seemed to be all right with them when we flew off with the two we have."

"And now that you have them . .

"We'll be coming back. Be there in three or four hours. Maybe faster. We don't know how fast these things can go. We'll fly them. Not bother with the roads. We'll follow the river north."

"Oh, Jesus, Kathy, this can't be right. Making ears, you say..."

"Well, I don't know if you can really call them cars .

"Just a minute, Kathy," said Jay. "Hang on for a minute."

He took down the receiver and cupped the mouthpiece, looking across the desk at Garrison.

"Johnny," he said, "she's a good reporter. A damn fine reporter."

Garrison cupped his phone. "I know, but, Christ, I can't go along with this. What if it turned out wrong?"

"It's five hours to press time. She'll be here by then. She can write her story. We can get pictures of the cars. We can get it all nailed down."

Garrison nodded. He uncupped the phone and spoke into it. "All right, Kathy, we'll be waiting for you. We won't do a thing until you get here. We'll have photographers. Can you land those things on top of the building, on the roof?"

"I don't know. I would think we could. They handle easy."

Jay spoke into the phone. "Kathy, how are these ears powered? Do you need gasoline? 1vVhat do you need?"

"Nothing," Kathy told him. "The visitors bud them. They are powered in the same way the visitors are powered, however that may be. Jerry thinks they are actually visitors, but in the shape of ears. There are a hundred of the ears, maybe more. We took only two. They bud them fast. The three visitors have been on the island only a week. Three of them made more than a hundred cars in only a week, probably less than a week."

"All right," said Garrison. "We'll sit on it. We'll keep it quiet. So far the story is ours exclusively. We'll see it stays that way. Be careful. Don't take any chances. We want you here in one piece."

"I'll be seeing you," said Kathy.

Garrison cradled the phone and looked at Jay.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I think we've just bought the first iron hatchet to replace our stone tomahawk."

Garrison mumbled something under his breath, then said, "Yes, I remember you talking about that. We should have run the story when you brought it up."

"I can still write it."

"No," said Garrison. "Hell, no, everyone will be writing that story now. Now there is another story to write. What happens to the auto industry if the visitors keep on making their cars and giving them away in payment for the trees-enough of them for everyone in the country? What happens to all the people who lose their jobs in the Detroit factories and in other plants? What happens to the oil industry when no one needs to buy gasoline for their cars? What happens to the auto service and maintenance people, all the service stations and the people pumping gas? What happens when we don't need to build roads any more? What happens to the finance companies that live on car payment plans? And what happens when the visitors, once they have made enough cars to give everyone a car, turn to making refrigerators and stoves and furnaces and air conditioners? How will the states register the new cars, the free cars? How will they regulate them? How do they go about taxing them? And the hell of it is that the visitors are not doing this out of animosity. They have no animosity toward us. All they have is gratitude. If they had only worked with the government, gone through governmental channels . .

"More than likely," said Jay, "they don't even realize there are governments. They may not know what a government is. They probably have no political concept. They have looked us over and found out how best they can pay us for the trees. And they looked at people and not at governments. They probably are unaware of what they are doing to us, not knowing anything about the complex economic structure we have built. The only economic system they may know is simple barter. You give me something; I'll give you something in return. And the hell of it is that the people will buy it. Once the people know about the free ears, once they start getting their hands on them, no one, in government or out, will dare to lift a finger, say a word, against the visitors."

"And that's why they're hiding out," said Garrison. "So they can make cars without interference. Hiding themselves so hordes of people can't come charging in to pick out a car. Thousands of them out there making cars. How long do you think it will take them to make enough of them?"

"I wouldn't know," said Jay. "I'm not even sure you're right, but the guess is good. I hope to God it's only ears. We probably can weather the situation if ears is all they make."

46. Washington D.C.

"Dave," asked the President, "can we be absolutely certain the news reports are right? It all sounds so fanciful. Almost beyond belief. What I mean . . . a few facts blown out of context."

"I had the same reservation," said Porter, "when the first report came on the wires. So I went to the source. Called the Tribune in Minneapolis and talked to the city editor. Man by the name of Garrison. I felt a little foolish doing that, almost as if I were questioning the integrity of the paper. But I felt I had to do it. Garrison was quite decent . .

"And the reports are correct?"

"Basically, yes. Garrison told me he couldn't believe it himself to start with. Not until the two ears landed. Said that after his reporter's phone call, he sat there in a daze, saying over and over to himself there was something wrong, that he had misunderstood what the reporter had said, that there had to be some foul-up."

"But now he knows. Now he's sure?"

"Now he knows. He has the cars. He has pictures of them."

"Have you seen the pictures?"

"It was less than half an hour ago the Tribune went to press. The story caught everyone, the news services included, by surprise. It would take a while to get the photos from the Tribune, a while longer to transmit them. They should be coming in soon."