Army since we finished ourschooling. There isn't too much choice. But I remembered that Monroe ishalf Indian--Arapahoe, isn't it, Monroe?--and I'm hoping blood willtell."
"Only trouble, Colonel," Monroe said slowly as he rose, "is that I'mone-_fourth_ Indian and even that.... Didn't I ever tell you that mygreat-grandfather was the only Arapahoe scout who was with Custer at theLittle Big Horn? He'd been positive Sitting Bull was miles away.However, I'll do my best. And if I heroically don't come back, would youplease persuade the Security Officer of our section to clear my name foruse in the history books? Under the circumstances, I think it's theleast he could do."
I promised to do my best, of course.
* * * * *
After he took off, I sat in the dome over the telephone connection toTom and hated myself for picking Monroe to do the job. But I'd havehated myself just as much for picking Tom. And if anything happened andI had to tell Tom to blast off, I'd probably be sitting here in the domeall by myself after that, waiting....
"_Broz neggle!_" came over the radio in Monroe's resonant voice. He hadlanded the single-seater.
I didn't dare use the telephone to chat with Tom in the ship, for fear Imight miss an important word or phrase from our scout. So I sat and satand strained my ears. After a while, I heard "_Mishgashu!_" which toldme that Monroe was in the neighborhood of the other dome and wascreeping toward it under cover of whatever boulders were around.
And then, abruptly, I heard Monroe yell my name and there was a terrificclattering in my headphones. Radio interference! He'd been caught, andwhoever had caught him had simultaneously jammed his suit transmitterwith a larger transmitter from the alien dome.
Then there was silence.
After a while, I told Tom what had happened. He just said, "PoorMonroe." I had a good idea of what his expression was like.
"Look, Tom," I said, "if you take off now, you still won't have anythingimportant to tell. After capturing Monroe, whatever's in that other domewill come looking for us, I think. I'll let them get close enough for usto learn something of their appearance--at least if they're human ornon-human. Any bit of information about them is important. I'll shout itup to you and you'll still be able to take off in plenty of time. Allright?"
"You're the boss, Colonel," he said in a mournful voice. "Lots of luck."
And then there was nothing to do but wait. There was no oxygen system inthe dome yet, so I had to squeeze up a sandwich from the foodcompartment in my suit. I sat there, thinking about the expedition. Nineyears, and all that careful secrecy, all that expenditure of money andmind-cracking research--and it had come to this. Waiting to be wipedout, in a blast from some unimaginable weapon. I understood Monroe'slast request. We often felt we were so secret that our immediatesuperiors didn't even want us to know what we we were working on.Scientists are people--they wish for recognition, too. I was hoping thewhole expedition would be written up in the history books, but it lookedunpromising.
* * * * *
Two hours later, the scout ship landed near the dome. The lock openedand, from where I stood in the open door of our dome, I saw Monroe comeout and walk toward me.
I alerted Tom and told him to listen carefully. "It may be a trick--hemight be drugged...."
He didn't act drugged, though--not exactly. He pushed his way past meand sat down on a box to one side of the dome. He put his booted feet upon another, smaller box.
"How are you, Ben?" he asked. "How's every little thing?"
I grunted. "_Well?_" I know my voice skittered a bit.
He pretended puzzlement. "Well _what_? Oh, I see what you mean. Theother dome--you want to know who's in it. You have a right to becurious, Ben. Certainly. The leader of a top-secret expedition likethis--Project Hush they call us, huh, Ben--finds another dome on theMoon. He thinks he's been the first to land on it, so naturally he wantsto--"
"Major Monroe Gridley!" I rapped out. "You will come to attention anddeliver your report. Now!" Honestly, I felt my neck swelling up insidemy helmet.
Monroe just leaned back against the side of the dome. "That's the _Army_way of doing things," he commented admiringly. "Like the recruits say,there's a right way, a wrong way and an Army way. Only there are otherways, too." He chuckled. "Lots of other ways."
"He's off," I heard Tom whisper over the telephone. "Ben, Monroe hasgone and blown his stack."
"They aren't extraterrestrials in the other dome, Ben," Monroevolunteered in a sudden burst of sanity. "No, they're human, all right,and from Earth. Guess _where_."
"I'll kill you," I warned him. "I swear I'll kill you, Monroe. Where arethey from--Russia, China, Argentina?"
He grimaced. "What's so secret about those places? Go on!--guess again."
I stared at him long and hard. "The only place else--"
"Sure," he said. "You got it, Colonel. The other dome is owned andoperated by the Navy. The goddam United States Navy!"
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