end of the war withChina. Other men looked at the record, too. We got together, and talked.We knew that the military advantage of a rocket base on the moon couldbe a deciding factor in another major war. Military experts hadrecognized that fact back in the 1950's. Another war could give men thetechnological kick they needed to get them to space--possibly _in time_.If men got to space before they destroyed themselves, the trap would bebroken, the frontier would be opened, and men could turn their energiesaway from destruction toward something infinitely greater and moreimportant. With space on his hands men could get along without wars. Butif we waited for peacetime to go to space, we might never make it. Itmight be too late.
"It was a dreadful undertaking. I saw the wealth in the company Idirected and controlled at the end of the Chinese war, and the idea grewstrong. I saw that a huge industrial amalgamation could be undertaken,and succeed. We had a weapon in our favor, the most dangerous weaponever devised, a thousand times more potent than atomics. Hitler used it,with terrible success. Stalin used it. Haro-Tsing used it. Why couldn'tIngersoll use it? Propaganda--a terrible weapon. It could make peoplethink the right way--it could make them think almost _any_ way. It madethem think war. From the end of the last war we started, withpropaganda, with politics, with money. The group grew stronger as ourpower became more clearly understood. Mariel handled propaganda throughthe newspapers, and PIB, and magazines--a clever man--and HarryDartmouth handled production. I handled the politics and diplomacy. Wehad but one aim in mind--to bring about a threat of major war that woulddrive men to space. To the moon, to a man-made satellite, _somewhere oranywhere_ to break through the Earth's gravity and get to space. And weaimed at a controlled war. We had the power to do it, we had the moneyand the plants. We just had to be certain it wasn't the _ultimate_ war.It wasn't easy to make sure that atomic weapons wouldn't be used thistime--but they will not. Both nations are too much afraid, thanks to ourpropaganda program. They both leaped at a chance to make a face-savingagreement. And we hoped that the war could be held off until we got tothe moon, and until the Arizona rocket project could get a ship launchedfor the moon. The wheels we had started just moved too fast. I saw atthe beginning of the Berlin Conference that it would explode into war,so I decided the time for my 'death' had arrived. I had to come here, tomake sure the war doesn't go on any longer than necessary."
Shandor looked up at the old man, his eyes tired. "I still don't seewhere I'm supposed to fit in. I don't see why you came here at all. Wasthat a wild-goose chase I ran down there, learning about this?"
"Not a wild goose chase. The important work can't start, you see, untilthe rocket gets here. It wouldn't do much good if the Arizona rocket gothere, to fight the war. It may come for war, but it must go back forpeace. We built this rocket to get us here first--built it fromgovernment specifications, though they didn't know it. We had the plantto build it in, and we were able to hire technologists _not_ to find theright answers in Arizona until we were finished. Because the whole valueof the war-threat depended solely and completely upon our getting here_first_. When the Arizona rocket gets to the moon, the war must bestopped. Only then can we start the real 'operation Bear Trap.' Thatship, whether American or Russian, will meet with a great surprise whenit reaches the Moon. We haven't been spotted here. We left in darknessand solitude, and if we were seen, it was chalked off as a guidedmissile. We're well camouflaged, and although we don't have any sort ofelaborate base--just a couple of sealed rooms--we have a ship and wehave weapons. When the first ship comes up here, the control of thesituation will be in our hands. Because when it comes, it will be sentback with an ultimatum to _all_ nations--to cease warfare, or suffer themost terrible, nonpartisan bombardment the world has ever seen. Apinpoint bombardment, from our ship, here on the Moon. There won't betoo much bickering I think. The war will stop. All eyes will turn to us.And then the big work begins."
He smiled, his thin face showing tired lines in the bright light. "Imay die before the work is done. I don't know, nor care. I have nosuccessor, nor have we any plans to perpetuate our power once the workis done. As soon as the people themselves will take over the work, thejob is theirs, because no group can hope to ultimately control space.But first people must be sold on space, from the bottom up. They must beforced to realize the implications of a ship on the moon. They mustrealize that the first ship was the hardest, that the trap is sprung.The amputation is a painful one, there wasn't any known anaesthetic, butit will heal, and from here there is no further need for war. But thepeople must see that, understand its importance. They've got to have thewhole story, in terms that they can't mistake. And that means apropagandist--"
"You have Mariel," said Shandor. "He's had the work, the experience--"
"He's getting tired. He'll tell you himself his ideas are slow, he isn'ton his toes any longer. He needs a new man, a helper, to take his place.When the first ship comes, his job is done." The old man smiled. "I'vewatched you, of course, for years. Mariel saw that you were given hisjob when he left PIB to edit '_Fighting World_.' He didn't think youwere the man, he didn't trust you--thought you had been raised toostrongly on the sort of gibberish you were writing. I thought you werethe only man we could use. So we let you follow the trail, and watchedto see how you'd handle it. And when you came to the Nevada plant, we_knew_ you were the man we had to have--"
Shandor scowled, looking first at Ingersoll, then at Mariel's impassiveface. "What about Ann?" he asked, and his voice was unsteady. "She knewabout it all the time?"
"No. She didn't know anything about it. We were afraid she had upsetthings when she didn't turn my files over to Dartmouth as he'd told her.We were afraid you'd go ahead and write the story as you saw it then,which would have wrecked our plan completely. As it was, she helped ussidestep the danger in the long run, but she didn't know what she wasreally doing." He grinned. "The error was ours, of course. We simplyunderestimated our man. We didn't know you were that tenacious."
Shandor's face was haggard. "Look. I--I don't know what to think. Thisship in Arizona--how long? When will it come? How do you know it'll evercome?"
"We waited until our agents there gave us a final report. The ship maybe leaving at any time. But there's no doubt that it'll come. If itdoesn't, one from Russia will. It won't be long." He looked at Shandorclosely. "You'll have to decide by then, Tom."
"And if I don't go along with you?"
"We could lose. It's as simple as that. Without a spokesman, the plancould fall through completely. There's only one thing you need to makeyour decision, Tom--faith in men, and a sure conviction that man wasmade for the stars, and not for an endless circle of useless wars. Thinkof it, Tom. That's what your decision means."
Shandor walked to the window, stared out at the bleak landscape, watchedthe great bluish globe of earth, hanging like a huge balloon in theblack sky. He saw the myriad pinpoints of light in the blackness on allsides of it, and shook his head, trying to think. So many things tothink of, so very many things--
"I don't know," he muttered. "I just don't know--"
* * * * *
It was a long night. Ideas are cruel, they become a part of a man'sbrain, an inner part of his chemistry, they carve grooves deep in hismind which aren't easily wiped away. He knew he'd been living a lie, abitter, hopeless, endless lie, all his life, but a liar grows to believehis own lies. Even to the point of destruction, he believes them. It wasso hard to see the picture, now that he had the last piece in place.
A fox, and a bear trap. Such a simple analogy. War was a hellishproposition, it was cruel, it was evil. It could be lost, so veryeasily. And it seemed so completely, utterly senseless to cut off one'sown leg--
And then he thought, somewhere, sometime, he'd see her again. Perhapsthey'd be old by then, but perhaps not--perhaps they'd still be young,and perhaps she wouldn't know the true story yet. Perhaps he could bethe first to tell her, to let her know that he had been wrong-- Maybethere could be a chance to be happy, on Earth, sometime. They mig
htmarry, even, there might be children. To be raised for what? Wars andwars and more wars? Or was there another alternative? Perhaps the starswere winking brighter--
* * * * *
A hoarse shout rang through the quiet rooms. Ingersoll sat bolt upright,turned his bright eyes to Mariel, and looked down the passageway. Andthen they were crowding to the window as one of the men snapped off thelights in the room, and they were staring up at the pale bluish globethat hung in the sky, squinting, breathless--
And they saw the tiny,