m intelligent beings on Ganymede. Ganymede is one of
twelve moons of the planet Jupiter, and is larger than the planet
Mercury."

Freddy stopped.

"Ain't there any more?" Willy whined.

"The rest of it is about how far away Ganymede is, and its relative
density and mass and stuff. You wouldn't be interested, Willy."

"Oh. I guess not." Willy helped himself to a peanut. "What's it mean,
Freddy?"

"Nothing much, Willy. Just that there's people somewhere besides here on
Earth, and they called us on the phone."

"Whadd'ya know about that!" Willy gasped. "I didn't even know they was
other people!" He stared with disbelief at the paper.

"I don't suppose anyone knew."

"How d'ya suppose they knew?" Willy asked. "I mean, that we was here, if
we didn't know they was there?"

"I've been wondering about that, Willy. You know that last rocket we
shot?"

"From Cape Carnival you mean?"

"Yeh. It was supposed to go into orbit around Jupiter. I wouldn't be
surprised if maybe it didn't land on Ganymede; the people there could
have examined it, figured out where it came from, and then radioed us on
the same frequency the rocket transmitter used. Paper doesn't say that,
of course, but it's a reasonable hypothesis."

"Freddy, I think you must be a genius or sumpin'."

Freddy smiled and stretched out to sleep again as Willy wandered off,
staring blankly at the newspaper.

* * * * *

Carlton Jones, America's Number One personnel specialist, scowled at the
pamphlet on his desk.

SECRET, it said in big red letters across the top and bottom. Special
Instructions for Operation Space Case, said the smaller letters across
the middle of the top sheet.

"Now I ask you, Dwindle," Jones said to his clerkish aide, "where, in
this worldful of specialists, am I going to find someone with a
well-rounded education? Much less one who'll take a chance on a flier
like this?"

"Gosh, Mr. Jones, I just wouldn't know," Dwindle blinked. "Have you
tried looking through your files?"

"Have I tried looking through my files," Jones sighed, looking at the
ceiling light. "Dwindle, my files include every gainfully employed
person in the United States of America and its possessions. Millions of
them. One doesn't just browse through the files looking for things."

"Oh," Dwindle said. "I'm kinda new at this specialty," he explained.

"Yes, Dwindle. However," Jones continued, "one does make IBM runouts to
find thi