suicidal. But he went ahead.

He headed northward, pushing the little car to its top speed. This was
not following his instructions. He wasn't leaving the Park area. He
was heading for Boulder Lake. Jill was there and he would feel
ashamed for all time if he acted like a sensible man and got to safety
as he was ordered.

Miles along the highway, something occurred to him. The base line
instrument had to be aimed exactly right for Vale or Sattell to pick
up his voice as carried by its beam. Vale's or Sattell's instruments
had to be aimed as accurately to convey their voices to him. Yet after
the struggle he'd overheard, and after Vale had been either subdued or
killed, someone or something seemed to have picked up the
communicator, and Lockley had heard squeakings, and then he had heard
the instrument smashed.

It was not easy to understand how the beam had been kept perfectly
aligned while it was picked up and squeaked at. Still less was it
understandable that it remained aimed just right so he could hear when
it was flung down and crushed.

But somehow this oddity did not change his feelings. Jill could be in
danger from creatures Vale said were not human. Lockley didn't wholly
accept that non-human angle, but something was happening there and
Jill was in the middle of it. So he went to see about it for the sake
of his self-respect. And Jill. It was not reasonable behavior. It was
emotional. He didn't stop to question what was believable and what
wasn't. Lockley didn't even give any attention to the problem of how a
microwave beam could stay pointed exactly right while the instrument