Kinsman said nothing.
Returning to his office, Kinsman slumped behind his desk and stared at the old photograph of a lunar landscape he had taped to the wall. The picture showed an astronaut —himself—kneeling in his lunar suit, working over a gadgety-looking piece of scientific gear. He had forgotten what the equipment was, what it was supposed to do. The photograph was faded, its edges browned and curling.
Getting old, he said to himself. And useless.
Beyond the machine and the man in the picture, the broad plain of a lunar mare stretched out to the abrupt horizon, where a rounded worn mountain showed its tired- looking peak. Above, riding in the black sky, was the half-sphere of Earth. Years earlier, when the photo had been new, the Earth had been a brilliant blue and white. Now it looked faded and gray, along with everything else in the office.
Suddenly Kinsman got up from his desk and went out into the corridor, heading for Colonel Murdock's office.
What are you going to tell him? he asked himself.
The answer was a mental shrug. Damned if I know. But I've got to tell him something.
You can quit, you know. Walk away from it. Murdock would be happy to see you go.
The voice in his head became sardonic. And do what? Wait till I'm Durban's age and have them carry me to the Moon on a stretcher?
There's more to life than getting to the Moon.
He answered immediately, No there's not. Not for me. That's where I've got to be, away from all this crap.
They're going to bring all this crap with them' You know that.
He shook his head doggedly. Not if I can help it,
The Colonel's outer office was empty again. Not even the secretary was there. Kinsman went straight to Murdock's door and rapped sharply on it.
"What? Who is it?"
Kinsman smiled at the thought of how the Colonel must have jumped at the unexpected knocking. He tried the door, but it was locked.
"It's Kinsman," he called. Then, thinking there might be 202 a superior officer locked inside with Murdock, he added, "Sir."
Footsteps. Muffled voices. Then the door opened. Mur- dock looked flustered.
"What is it?" the Colonel demanded, holding the door open just a few centimeters.
Kinsman heard the other door, the one that opened directly onto the corridor outside, snap shut softly. Whoever had been in the office with Murdock had left.
"I've got to talk to you," Kinsman said, "about this McGrath business."
Colonel Murdock was one of the few men Kinsman knew who could look furious and terrified at the same time. Now he also looked sheepish, with a little boy's caught-in-the-act expression on his chubby face.
He yanked the door open all the way. "All right, come on in."
"If I'm interrupting anything . . ."
Murdock glared at him. "Just a White House liaison man, a representative from the National Security Agency who briefs the President every morning. That's all!"
