nd nothing did. Just like slamming into a stone wall, every rocket
blew up its thrumming roar far short of the target. The racks finally
pumped themselves dry, and through the smoke Smith grasped my arm
tighter than I liked. I couldn't hear what he was saying, deafened as
we all were by the blasts. He steered me back to the cabin and I
flipped off drops of sweat with the helmet. I turned unexpectedly and
caught the old man staring at me.

"Now what's the matter with you?"

* * * * *

He shook his head and sat down heavily. "You know, Miller, or Pete, if
you don't mind, I still don't actually believe what I've just seen."

I borrowed a light from the ubiquitous Stein. His expression told me
he'd seen the matinee.

"I don't believe it either, and I'm the one that put on the show." I
blew smoke in the air and gave back the lighter. "But that's neither
here nor there. When do I get out of this Black Hole of Calcutta?"

"Well...." Smith was undecided. "Where would you like to spend some
time when we're through with all this?"

That I hadn't expected. "You mean I have a choice?"

Noncommittally, "Up to a point. How about some island somewhere? Or in
the States? Cold or warm? How, for instance, would you feel about Guam
or--"

"Watched by the whole Mounted Police?" He nodded.

I didn't care. "Just someplace where no one will bother me; some place
where I can play some records of the Boston Pops or Victor Herbert;"
(and I guess the nervous strain of all that mental effort in all the
noise and smoke was fighting a delaying action) "someplace where I can
get all the beer I want, because it looks like I'm going to need
plenty. Someplace where I can sit around and take things easy and have
someone to--" I cut it short.

He was one of the understanding Smiths, at that. "Yes," he nodded, "we
can probably arrange that, too. It may not be...." What else could he
say, or what other way was there to say it?

"One more thing," he went on; "one more ... demonstration. This will
take some little time to prepare." That, to me, meant one thing, and I
liked it not at all. He beat me to the punch.

* * * * *

"This should be what is called the pay-off, the final edition. Come
through on this one, and you'll be better off than the gold in Fort
Knox. Anything you want, anything that money or goodwill can buy,
anything within the resources of a great--and, I assure you,