Atomsk: A Novel of Suspense

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Captain Sarah Lomax at first saw nothing unusual about the visitor. Many pleasant Army officers came and went, sometimes reporting in to General Coppersmith, sometimes setting forth on one of Coppersmith's mysterious errands. This Major Michael A. Dugan looked nice enough — neither young nor old, neither strange nor familiar, neither handsome nor ugly. He greeted her civilly but did not try to make small talk.

When he stood up, she sensed something strange about the way he did it.

He was sitting; he was rising; he was up. That was all. The movement had neither beginning nor end, neither slouch nor effort to it. It poured like water. She blinked at him, wondering what was missing. General Coppersmith's words called her and Dugan both to attention.

"You're Dugan," said the general.

"Yes, sir," said the major.

"You're the greatest spy in the world," the general went on, in a tone which would have been pure insolence if it had been used the other way around, by a major toward a general.

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