City on the Moon

They went into the main dome. Pitkin again puttered happily among the plants there. Kenmore opened his faceplate and asked dourly, "Any news?"

"But yes," said Pitkin, beaming. "Rogers and Schmidt came in their jeep. There was an accident to their spotter station and they could not stay. They came in for safety. On the way they found the jeeps which had fled the City. They told, here, and Lezd informed the Earth. They went back to try to help."

Kenmore growled. It was infernally plausible. It might even be true that a spotter-station crew had left its post because of an actual accident there, making their full tour of duty impossible. He filed the information in his mind; he neither believed nor disbelieved it.

He led the way into the air dome, and found a part of the hydroponic garden shifted to make room for a surprisingly convincing stage-set representing the Space Laboratory. It had been put together out of partitions from the main dome and bits of technical apparatus from here and there. At first, it looked like a meaningless assembly of propped-up shifted walls; but as he moved, it abruptly turned into a set for use with a television camera.

Lezd contemplated it with an air of satisfaction. "I have made ready for the Space Laboratory broadcast," he said placidly. "Cecile sleeps—I hope. She is wearing when she is frightened. Now she is frightened."

"Now," Kenmore told him, "she will be disappointed, too. The Laboratory is blown to atoms. Literally!"

Lezd blinked at him. Arlene said breathlessly at his elbow, "I'll tell her."

She vanished. Lezd listened with an increasingly wry expression as Kenmore told him of the destruction of the Space Laboratory—without, however, any mention of the reason for it. There was no point in disseminating causes for despair. If the reason was revealed on Earth, that would be bad enough. It shouldn't be public knowledge on the moon; certainly not yet. He'd pledged the chief and Moreau and Arlene to absolute silence— though Arlene had a clear and accurate picture of what security meant.

"But," said Lezd mournfully, with a specialist's strict absorption in his own purposes, "but this is such a good set! It is a pity to waste it!"

The chief said brightly, "Turn it into a radar-spotter post. Haney and I, we belong in one of them. We can give you all kinds of atmosphere!"

Lezd brightened. "That is a good idea! And Miss Gray was almost in one, actually, when the little ship was destroyed and you two picked her up. If anything would please Cecile, that might be it!"

Kenmore went back into the main dome, to the communicator.

He called Earth and reported the blasting of the Space Laboratory. The Very High Authority, who had given such vehement orders to carry a message to it, was called. Joe Kenmore repeated his report, and the Very High Authority seemed about to faint with relief. He went sick and weak, like somebody condemned to death who had received a last-minute reprieve.

Somebody else had to take over. It happened to be Major Gray, Arlene's father.

"Arlene's all right?" he asked sharply.

"Quite all right," said Kenmore. He added, "I understand the missing jeeps were found. Anybody alive in them?"

He waited three seconds for his voice to reach Earth and the answer to begin.

"Everybody's alive," said Gray evenly. "Jeeps from the missile bases reached them. Their air was giving out, but nobody was dead. The jeeps were sabotaged."

Kenmore felt no emotion; he'd expected that. There was consistent evidence that everything which had damaged the City had been done from within—except for the blasting of a cliff to overwhelm Moreau and himself. But it didn't seem to matter particularly, if the whole moon-project was to be abandoned.

"Well?" he asked tiredly. "What else?"

Major Gray said reservedly, "Missile-base jeeps are supplying the refugee's jeeps with air, and repairing the sabotage. They'll be returned to the City. The civilians in them aren't wanted at the bases."

"I can understand that," said Kenmore.

"They'll be brought back to Earth," said Major Gray, in measured fashion. "Naturally! They're pretty badly shocked."

"Oh, surely!" said Kenmore bitterly. "That'll be the excuse for abandoning the whole business of space-travel. Men can't stand it! That'll be the story! And if all goes well—if all goes well!—there will be a gradual rationing of atomic power; then coal and oil will be rationed, because it has to last forever. People will putter with energy from the tides and wind, and there'll be no more thought of the stars and the worlds about them waiting for men to come and live on them! And presently . . ."

Major Gray grimaced. "I advise that you don't think too much in that train. As of the moment, I have orders for you. You will not reveal anything you learned at the Space Laboratory. You will do nothing to increase the discouragement in the City when its people trickle back in their jeeps. You will take extra precautions against further sabotage—if possible. And meanwhile, a Navy ship leaves for the missile base. Wait for orders from someone it will bring."