He topped a small rise and there it was: the seismome- ters, the laser reflector, the stiffly proud flag, the gold- wrapped lower half of the landing module. Just as they had left it thirty years ago. The only change was the clear plastic cover that had been lovingly sprayed over the ground to protect the original footprints of Armstrong and Aldrin.

"Tranquility Base," Kinsman murmured.

Picking his way through the assorted hardware left by the astronauts, Kinsman walked around the landing module until he found the plaque. The stainless steel was still polished and gleaming, even in the faint light from Earth:

HERE MEN FROM THE PLANET EARTH FIRST SET FOOT UPON THE MOON JULY 1969, A.D. WE CAME IN PEACE FOR ALL MANKIND

Kinsman stared at it for a long time, especially the last line. Then he lifted his eyes toward the beautiful Earth and muttered, "'Nation shall not lift up sword against nation; neither shall they make war any more.' ... At least, not here;'

A flicker of movement caught his eye. Stepping away from the Apollo module he looked upward as far as his helmet would aliow his vision to rise. A flash of light—rocket 352 thrusters. The tiny gleam of another lunar flier solidified into a full-sized craft, engines flaring silently, landing struts poking rigidly outward. A Russian flitter.

It touched down close enough for Kinsman to watch its noiseless landing. The bubble canopy opened and a red-suited figure rose out of the cockpit and climbed slowly down the ladder.

Kinsman walked toward the newcomer. "Pete?" he called into his helmet microphone.

"Yes," Leonov's deep voice answered.

Kinsman's spirits soared. "How the hell did you know I'd be here?"

Leonov trudged over to him and laid a heavily gloved hand on Kinsman's shoulder. "My spies watch you very closely," he said flatly. "And so does my radar. It was rather simple to fix your trajectory and puzzle out your destination. No?"

"And you came out after me."

"Officially, I am discussing the need for tighter security with our radio astronomers at the Farside Station. As far as my intelligence officers back at Lunagrad are concerned, I have made this stop to see what you are up to."

"I'm making a pilgrimage in the desert," Kinsman said. "When I saw your ship I was hoping you were doing the same."

"To a shrine dedicated to American success? Hardly."

"There are medals for Gagarin and Komarov in there." Kinsman hiked a thumb in the direction of the lunar module.

"Yes, I know." Leonov hesitated a moment, then, "What really brings you out here?"

Kinsman said, "I couldn't sleep."

"Neither could I."

"What are we going to do about it?"

"Chet, my comrade, let's not begin to torture ourselves again."

"There must be something we can do!"

"Hah! I'm going to be replaced in ten days and you have your black superpatriot snarling at your heels."

"So whatever we do, it's got to be done in the next ten days."

Leonov said nothing. Kinsman could sense his disap- proval.