_Discovery_'--decided to call her the
_Discovery_ on account of--'the _Discovery_ was lying on her side in the
shade, but a blinding light was coming down from some peaks. It nearly
blinded me! Boy, what a--'" Harold squinted over a word--"'sight!'"

"Wait a minute! You giving me credit?"

"What for?"

"For being the first man."

"Oh, sure. I mention that in here some place."

"Just so there's no mistake!" Orville suddenly felt very drowsy. He
curled up facing the wall and went to sleep.

When he awoke, he saw Harold leaning against the wall, his glasses
sliding down, his head nodding. Orville reached over and jerked his
foot.

"There now," he said. "Old neighbor. You go to sleep. I'll watch her for
a while."

* * * * *

Orville felt fine now. While Harold slept, he opened a jar of Rosie's
peaches, drank off the juice and dug in with the spoon. It wasn't really
so bad, not shaving or taking a bath, roughing it out here in space!

He dug into his coat pocket, found a cigar, but it was crushed. Oh,
well. He flung it into the trash. He folded his arms, leaned back his
head.

They sat at the head of a banquet table, he and Harold. The mayor was
there, and the college president, and way down the table was the boss,
old Haverstrom, real proud to be in such important company. And the
governor was there and--by gosh! Sitting right next to Orville was the
President of the United States!

Someone was making a speech--they were awarding some kind of prize for
_first man_ and there was applause and they were waiting for Orville to
get up. He stood, waited for applause to die down.

"Thank you, friends ... all of you ... being no speechmaker ... but I do
want to say right here and now ... no more idea of receiving this great
honor tonight than of--flying to the Moon!"

That would get a laugh. Then he'd go on and give due credit to Harold,
poor old Harold sleeping there, innocent as a baby about such things.

Why, the publicity angle alone could take up a man's full time. Guest
appearances on TV. Getting signed up as technical adviser in Hollywood.
But that was just the beginning.

Take the metal in this ship. Harold had made it out of junk from the
city dump, melting it in a forge he'd fashioned out of an old oil drum.
It had to be cheap and easy to make--but you could probably use it for
almost anything. There was your whole metal industry shot to pieces!

This thing he called a