I continued my wandering, looking at the exhibits, the rubble of the museum's previous history. The cast of the Pompeiian gladiator, caught by the cinder-fall in full flight, his straining body reproduced to every contorted line by the incandescent ashes that had encased him. The carefully chipped and labeled samples from the lava flows of the past two centuries. The awe-inspiring photographs of Vesuvius in eruption. But something about the bomb casing kept bothering me. I wandered around a bit longer and then turned back to the main exhibit. The big casing stretched upward and downward, with narrow stairs leading down to the lower level at its base. It was on the staircase I'd noticed something before. Now I hesitated, trying to spot whatever it was. There was a hint of something down there. Finally, I shrugged and went down to inspect it more closely. * * * * * Lying at the base was a heavy radiation glove. A used, workman's glove, dirty with grease. And as my eyes darted up, I could see that the bolts on the lower servicing hatches were half-unscrewed. Radiation gloves and tampering with the casing! There were two doors to the pit for the bomb casing, but either one was better than risking the stairs again where someone might see me. Or so I figured. If they found I'd learned anything.... I grabbed for the nearer door, threw it open. I knew it was a mistake when the voice reached my ears. "--after hitting the Home office with a Thousand-kiloton bomb. It's going to take fast work. Now the schedule I've figured out so far--God's damnation! How did you get in here, Wills?" It was Slovetski, leaning across a table, staring at me. Around the table were Benedetto and four or five others I did not recognize. All of them looked at me as though I were the Antichrist, popped out of the marble at St. Peter's Basilica on Easter Sunday. The spark was a raging flame in Slovetski's eyes. Benedetto dell'Angela said sharply, "Wait!" He strode over to me, half shielding me from Slovetski. "Explain this, Thomas," he demanded. "I thought this was the hall door," I stammered, spilling the first words I could while I tried to find any excuse.... "Wills! I tell you, answer me!" I said, "Look, did you expect me to carry a bell and cry unclean? I didn't mean to break in. I'll go at once...." In a voice that shook, Slovetski said: "Wait one moment." He pressed a bell-button on the wall; we all stood there silent, the five of them staring at me, me wishing I was dead. There was a patter of feet outside, and Rena peered in. She saw me and her hand went to her heart. "Tom! But--" Slovetski said commandingly, "Why did you permit him his liberty?" Rena looked at him wide-eyed. "But, please, I asked you. You suggested letting him study the exhibits." Benedetto nodded. "True, Slovetski," he said gravely. "You ordered her to attend until our--conference was over."