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"Yes." The astrophysicist nodded. "That’s what the media’s talking about, that this was the first ever test, and it went off splendidly. And after a couple more trials, apparently they’ll try it with an astronaut inside."

The general cocked his head slightly on one side, like an aged but still attentive bloodhound. "That’s right," he repeated. "That’s what the media say. But what the media don’t know is that this wasn’t the first trial of the X Craft. It was the fifth."

"The fifth?" The astrophysicist frowned. "Does that mean – there was someone aboard?"

"Oh yes." The general smiled bitterly. "There was someone aboard. That’s why you’re here."

"The X Craft, you realise," said the general, "isn’t just a transport. It’s a military weapon."

They were going down the same white corridor, the lanky officer walking so quickly that the tubby little scientist had to trot to keep up. The floor, covered now with black rubber matting, sloped gently downwards, and the air was cool and dry.

"It is?" The astrophysicist shook his head. "I didn’t know that."

The general glanced at him with some contempt. "If it had no military application, do you think it would’ve got any funding? Who has the money to spare for space travel, and experimental space travel at that?"

"But how can you use it as a weapon?"

"You scientists..." The general sounded exasperated. "The X Craft promises instantaneous transport across space, doesn’t it? It exploits, as you said, wormholes between spatial points. Now, isn’t that a perfect way of bypassing enemy defences? Once we have a functioning X Craft fleet, not a single nation or coalition will ever be able to stand up to us. They’ll be naked to our attacks. It’s the ultimate stealth weapon, and worth any amount of effort."

"That’s...a monstrous misuse of science," the astrophysicist said. "Monstrous."

The general laughed aloud. "That’s kind of rich, really. The military is the only reason science programmes still get funded, or didn’t you know?" He stopped laughing abruptly. "Of course, the whole thing’s jeopardised now, and I don’t mean the media getting wind of the trial somehow, so we had to announce it."

"You didn’t want to announce it?"

"Of course not. What use is a secret programme if it’s known to the world?"

"But the trial was a success, wasn’t it? Or is that not true?"

"Oh," said the general, "the trial was a success, as far as that went. The X Craft created a wormhole, slipped through, and reappeared twenty kilometres away. The damned trial was a success, as far as the machine goes.  It’s what happened on board that’s the problem."

 "What happened on board?" the astrophysicist asked.

"You’ll see in a moment," the general said. They descended a twisting flight of stairs, and emerged on to a second corridor, lined with identical doors. Several of the doors had armed guards stationed outside, who stiffened to attention at the sight of the general and slapped the butts of their rifles in salute.

"Here we are." The general stopped in front of one of the doors, ignoring the pair of muscular sentries with their black uniforms and Kevlar body armour. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned to the astrophysicist.

"You are not going to believe this," he said.

"She was a volunteer, of course," the general said. "And she was an experienced astronaut. Of course, it goes without saying that she wasn’t part of the space programme the public knows about."

"You have a secret military space programme?" The astrophysicist was talking without really thinking, his mind still trying to understand the thing lying on the other side of the transparent wall.

"Well, of course," the general replied, "space travel’s always been primarily a military controlled programme. Just about all the early astronauts were military people, starting with Gagarin, as I’m sure you know. The difference is that these programmes are directly concerned with the nation’s security, and are beyond top secret. You don’t know more about it than you must. There’s not a single person who knows it all, not even I."

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