o," he said finally.
He was staring blankly at Pell again.

Pell patted his pockets, turned to Kronski and said, "You know, I think
we're out of cigarettes." Before Kronski could answer he moved to the
big quartz window behind Wilcox's desk. He gazed at the moonscape. "Just
can't get over how big and quiet it is," he said.

Wilcox turned and gazed with him.

Kronski drew his freezer. He pointed it, squeezed, and there was a soft,
momentary buzzing and a twinkling of violet sparks at the muzzle of the
weapon.

Wilcox sat where he was, frozen, knowing nothing.

* * * * *

Pell turned fast. "Come on, Steve. Let's get it." They both stepped to
the refrigerator.

They had only seconds; Kronski's weapon had been set at a low reading.
The time of paralysis varied with the individual and Doc Wilcox looked
husky enough not to stay frozen very long. If Pell and Kronski returned
to their original positions after he came out of it he would never know
that anything had happened.

Far back on a lower shelf of the refrigerator were a dozen small bottles
of the same type. Pell grabbed one, glanced at the label, nodded, and
dropped it into his pocket. They took their places again.

A few moments later Wilcox moved slightly and said, "Yup. Moon's a funny
place all right. You either like it or you don't."

The rest of the conversation was fairly uninspired. Pell didn't want to
walk out too quickly, and had to keep up the pretense of interviewing
Wilcox for a magazine story. It wasn't easy. They excused themselves
finally, saying they'd be back for more information as soon as they made
up some notes and got the overall picture--whatever that meant. Wilcox
seemed satisfied with it.

They hurried back along the tunnel, descended to another level and found
the Augea Post Office. They showed the postmaster their C.I.B. shields
and identification cards and arranged for quick and special handling for
the bottle of vaccine. Pell marked it _Attention, Lab_, and it was
scheduled to take a quick rocket to the Endymion landing and the next
unmanned mail rocket back to World City.

Pell stayed at the Post Office to make out a quick report on the
incident so he wouldn't have to bore Ciel by doing it in the room, and
Kronski sauntered on back to the hotel.

There was a fax receiver there and Pell, missing the hourly voice
bulletins of World City Underground, checked it for news. The pages were
coming out i