"Stick with me, Al," Winthrop whispered urgently. Aloud he said, "Doctor Allan and I would like to go over the data now. We believe we've found the key to the door and that--" The general laughed. "If you're that close, George, it can wait until morning." "I disagree," Winthrop cut in sharply. "Time may be of the essence. How do we know whether the occupants are of the pastoral race or the other race depicted in that ghastly comic book? If they've anti-gravity and fission bombs, what else may they have up forward?" "Let's not be pessimistic," General Hill said. "If they had come meaning harm, they'd have set their awakening apparatus properly. They'd not have erred if they'd come with evil intent. Let's not drag in a monstrous hint of invasion. If you wish to keep on, well and good. I'm for the cot. Goodnight, gentlemen!" VI "Why can't it wait, George?" Benton Allan asked tiredly. "You'd better let me ask the questions!" Winthrop urged. "You said you understood that autopilot/computer. Do you think we could send the ship back?" "Yes," Allan said. "The tape can be reversed. The computer would compensate for elapsed time and orbital factors." "Will you help me?" Slowly Allan removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "That would be the height of stupidity. We've a workable spaceship here. If we sent it back without awaiting the awakening of its occupants we'd be acting like congenital idiots!" "Put your glasses back on!" Winthrop said irritably. His right forefinger stabbed at the schematics, drawings, translated math. "Add it up, Mister Computer!" For a long moment Allan stared in silence. Then, suddenly, realization blanched his face. "The trees for the forest," he murmured. "Let's go, George!" The sentry halted them at the ship's port, but passed them quickly when they told him their mission was urgent. But as they entered the ship they heard him calling for the officer-of-the-day. Allan attacked the autopilot/ computer, inserting the reversed tape carefully. Winthrop with utmost care rearranged the wiring in accordance with the construction charts, and replaced everything else as it had been on the ship's arrival. "Agreed?" Winthrop asked. "Agreed!" said Benton Allan. They left the ship hurriedly, fastening the port securely behind them. A moment later their triumph came. It was not a triumph to the general. In stunned horror and desperation, he watched the gleaming ship lift silently, slowly into the cool night air over Flushing Meadow Park, a monstrous silver gourd stippled with starlight. "What have you done, man?" he cried. "We sent it back, Bert," Winthrop said with a calmness he had not felt in years. "But why? _Why?_ What in God's name shall I tell the General Staff?"