creen, the virtually
indescribable reactions being sustained far beneath the surface: molten
rock flowing and smoking. Orange, blue and white flames danced as though
in agony in the great, expanding cavern, danced and merged and vanished
and reappeared in an ever-changing pattern.

Back at the locks, the general bid Captain Arnold good-by and turned to
leave. Then, as if an afterthought came forward, he turned back.

"David, oh, David!"

"Yes, sir."

"Perhaps you remember a conversation we had a few weeks ago? I called on
you for some technical advice." He held his helmet in his hands.

"When was that, sir?"

"Oh, it was about the technical feasibility of reversing the
air-changing equipment, I believe. As you know, I can't be up on all the
technical, purely detailed procedure, for all phases of the operation.
That's what we have experts for." The last statement was unusually
jovial. "I believe you told me, David, that the process was too far
along at that time. Perhaps you remember?"

"General Shorter, when was that?"

"I thought you would remember, David. I'm sure it was you. Yes, I'm
almost positive it was. But if you say.... Well, David, it wasn't quite
so much as exactly a statement like that. But that was the general
meaning of it, you know, stripped of all the technical language. You
have to take it in the over-all context. That was the meaning I got." He
laughed tactfully. "You're like lawyers, all you technicians. You answer
everything yes and no at the same time. I hoped you'd remember the
conversation. I got that idea from it." The general waited. "Well,
David--don't look like that--it's not at all important. Just trying to
refresh my own memory. It's not important, really.... Good night,
David." He placed the helmet over his head.

"Good night, General."

Methodically the general completed his rounds. He laughed often and
joked with the men and seemed in exceptionally good spirits.

Back in his own quarters, he brought out his diary. With a weary sigh,
he sat down to it. He glanced at his timepiece. The day extended
backward almost beyond memory but it was not yet late.

After thumbing the diary listlessly for several minutes--pausing now and
then at a paragraph--he began to write. He put the events of the day
down precisely in their logical sequence.

IV

The Committee took over the dining area when the general left for his
tour of inspection. While the steward's department was pre