MOON/Yurth a waiting Rolls Royce. The door of the limousine opened slowly, and a man of some distinction struggled cautiously to the pavement. Henry felt the color draining slowly from his face. He recognized the man as the Right Honorable Arthur Backworth, Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. "May I come in?" said the Prime Minister with a vote-catching smile. Here was a wonderful, perverse moment to say no, but Henry said yes. Veronica, amazed, and with an intense feeling of shame at even having mentioned such trivialities as bank accounts and packing, watched her humble boudoir gradually filling with celebrities who had only graced it previously as guests on television. "You are probably wondering why I am here," crooned Mr. Backworth. Once again Henry was seized with a desire to say no, but to the Prime Minister the question was rhetorical, and he continued in august and measured tones. "When Sir Humphrey informed me today of the success of your experiment, I immediately called a cabinet meeting, which ended not half an hour ago. It goes without saying that what you have achieved is perhaps the most glorious, the most decisive step in the history of science, nay, of the human race. What recognition a mere government may accord you will be yours, rest assured." "It would have been impossible without Bill, here-" Henry said. "Yes, yes, both of you, both of you," the Prime Minister went on with not a little impatience. He was used to interruptions from politicians, but the interruptions of laymen were an impertinence. "Now it must be obvious to you that what you have accomplished is of such magnitude that it cannot fail to affect the policy of nations, and, of this nation in particular. After all, the Russians will, at any moment, be able to land a dog on the moon; the Americans have, I am told, a mouse in readiness; but we, without fanfares or magniloquence, have by-passed all these intermediary stages and are ready to land a man, or men. You may not realize what this means." "Henry here is to get the credit," said Bill with some awe. Henry smiled and said, modestly, "I am very fortunate, sir, that it should have fallen to me to lead the team which managed, perhaps more by luck than virtue, to achieve this success. I am, of course, looking forward intensely to my visit to Washington, and to the possibility of breaking the news to our American friends." Henry was greatly annoyed with himself for adopting this formal tone, but in talking to the Prime Minister, one apparently didn't talk, one made a speech. Mr. Backworth looked at Henry curiously, and smiled. "I want you to come to dinner on Thursday at Number 10." "I can't, I'll be in Washington." "No, you won't." "What?" The Prime Minister nodded at Sir Humphrey, who cleared his throat and spoke. "It has been decided by the cabinet, and I was present at the meeting, to send Sir Giles Parish to Washington in your place. We need you here." "But Sir Giles Parish doesn't know the first thing about interplanetary travel!" "Then he will give nothing away," said the Prime Minister quite pleasantly. "This is outrageous. I want to go!" "You can't," replied the Prime Minister. "Can't!" echoed Henry, and then fell back on the conventional reaction of the perplexed democrat. "But this is a free country." "Yes," growled the Prime Minister in his heroic style, "and we must keep it free." His remark didn't make much sense, but then any student of politics will note that it is more important to make the right noise than to talk sense. The Prime Minister smiled, relaxing the unexpected tension. "Do you really think we have sunk so low as to reward your efforts by curbing your liberties?" Henry felt childish. "But I was very much looking forward to going to Washington." "You scientists take such a long view of events that it needs simple souls like ourselves to open your eyes to the obvious on the occasion. Of course you are flushed with pride at your achievement. Of course you wish to announce your world-shattering 14 "I KNEW IT!" CRIED HENRY. "A CHURCH OF ENGLAND MOON." discovery to your colleagues. That is only human. But alas! your colleagues may be near you in spirit, but they also carry passports, they also speak their various languages and boast their various prejudices. There can be no pure relationship between you, say, and a Russian scientist, because you both have divergent responsibilities, however warm and cordial your contact in the laboratory or over a hot cup of coffee. Now, you harbor a tremendous, dangerous secret. Have you the experience to keep it, all by yourself, without any help from us? Will not the strain on you be utterly inhuman, however loyal your intentions? These are questions to which we must find answers within the next few weeks." "How do you intend to go about it?" asked Henry, too surprised to be really angry. "By keeping your mind occupied," said the Prime Minister. "Thursday is the day after tomorrow. I wish you to dine with me and General Sir Godfrey Toplett, chief of the general staff." "We will have absolutely nothing in common," offered Henry. "Before dinner, perhaps not. After dinner, I believe you will." "I presume I may go on seeing which friends I please?" asked Henry, his voice charged with irony. The Prime Minister ignored the irony, and said, "Up to a point." Henry looked at De Vouvenay who smiled fatuously. Bill rose from his seat. He hadn't said anything, but was visibly dismayed. "If you'll excuse me" he began. "Don't be surprised if you should feel yourself followed. You will be," said the Prime Minister. Sir Giles Parish was a man of science often selected by the British Government for official missions, since he had a quality of aloof and calculating majesty which those seated with him round a conference table never failed to find disturbing. He always seemed to be hiding something. He also had a habit of suddenly, unreasonably laughing at a comic situation of a day, a week, or a year ago, usually while a serious statement was being read by someone else. His enigmatic quality was completed by his utter silence when it was his turn to speak. It so happened that at the very moment Sir Parish was seated with American scientists at a top-level conference in Washington, Henry was puffing on one of the Prime Minister's better cigars and losing his critical sense in the lullaby of its fumes. The dark plans of the British Government were working well for the time being on both fronts. A brilliant American scientist's paper, which for some reason was read in a thick German accent, explaining a remarkable plan for projecting a whole battalion of white mice into space, was interrupted by a loud laugh from Sir Parish who had just recalled a very humorous event of his boyhood. The American delegation looked at each other with consternation and asked themselves whether the president had been wise to let the British into these top-level conferences. In London, meanwhile, General Toplett, a soldier with a face like a whiskered walnut, was busy producing some large folders from his portfolio. "You see, it's quite clear that whenever a nation is first to land even light forces on crater K here - I've marked it in red - will control all the lateral valleys on this side of the moon's face. My plan, therefore, is to land light air-borne forces as near the perimeter of the crater as possible, and to advance from there in four columns until we reach this green line." This was too much for Henry, who leaped to his feet, "It's revolting!" he cried. "I didn't evolve a man-carrying moon rocket in order to see it subjected to the kind of thought which has made such a mess out of this planet! I don't want dim soldiers and soiled (continued) 15