w there's a twenty-four hour alert on--that was bound to
leak--but I've kept them quiet. We'll have to give them something
soon, though. They won't take a muzzle too long without at least
knowing why."

"Could you give them the story and trust them, when it's this
important, and the consequences of leakage this apparent?"

"I'd thought of that. You can convince some newsmen--but there's
always a Joe somewhere who figures the American people have a right
to know their destiny before it's decided, no matter what the
effect--and no matter if their most highly elected officials feel it
would not be good for them."

"Keep it top security as long as possible. Let me know before it
breaks."

"If I can. I'm not a witch. I might not know when it was breaking."
The CIA chief grinned sourly at his own allusion.

The next night, the big news was the countdown in process at Canaveral
to put a functioning "dome" on the moon. If the dome could be landed
successfully, complete with live animals, a man would follow shortly.
That was foregone. The question was landing the dome, just a small
spaceship body, but completely equipped to keep a man alive for two
years, in case anything went wrong with plans to bring him back
pronto.

Bill Howard's voice was excited, and he ran his fingers through his
hair, pushing it back as he leaned across the desk, the map of Florida
behind him.

"To the statesmen, this is a question of who is first and who is
second, and perhaps who will control the spaceways," he said after
describing the countdown in process.

"But to the peoples of the world, this is mankind, reaching for the
stars.

"It is not known," he said solemnly, "whether the failure of many of
our shots has been human error or sabotage. Human error is a frailty
of the race. Sabotage is a frailty of statesmanship, that the world
is still divided as it reaches for the stars. Yet each is possible.

"Is there a mechanical error built in by human frailty in tonight's
shot? Is there a saboteur at work?

"Or, as the countdown reaches zero, one hour from now, will the dome
tear through the atmosphere of Earth in man's first real step to the
stars successfully? Is our bird perfect this time?" he asked, as the
break came.

The witches danced on crying their chant ... "Witches of the world,
unite to make it clean, clean, clean, Witch clean,--NOW!"

* * * * *

Randolph was chewing his lip still as he went