"I checked and nobody'd done anything to 'em to bring 'em off their jazz. If there's anything can be done to pull a guy out of a jazz, anyhow, I've never heard of it, and I've been in the narcotics squad since the year One. I couldn't figure it. I'd been hearing stories about Witch Products and that miracle at the Battery, sort of as a joke, and I thought, just maybe, just possibly, you know.... "Anyhow, I took the tapes to my boss, and spoke my bit, but he just laughed. "Maybe you'll just laugh, too, but I thought I'd ask." * * * * * At the same time in Washington, the cabinet was in full session. Reports coming in from Formosa were worse than even the most pessimistic had dreamed. The bacteria hit at the nerves and the brain, and the victims--excruciating was a word being used. "It's hit everywhere on the island at once. I assume it is contagious as well as having been broadcast from whatever bombs or broadcast methods were used," the CIA chief reported. "Any word from their embassy?" State answered that one. "No word at all. Phone calls to the Ambassador only elicit reports that he is not available. I can't reach anybody higher than a fourth assistant undersecretary." "At least it's not been on the air or in the press." "I don't know how long we can hold them in leash. Most of your leading papers know there's a twenty-four hour alert on--that was bound to leak--but I've kept them quiet. We'll have to give them something soon, though. They won't take a muzzle too long without at least knowing why." "Could you give them the story and trust them, when it's this important, and the consequences of leakage this apparent?" "I'd thought of that. You can convince some newsmen--but there's always a Joe somewhere who figures the American people have a right to know their destiny before it's decided, no matter what the effect--and no matter if their most highly elected officials feel it would not be good for them." "Keep it top security as long as possible. Let me know before it breaks." "If I can. I'm not a witch. I might not know when it was breaking." The CIA chief grinned sourly at his own allusion. The next night, the big news was the countdown in process at Canaveral to put a functioning "dome" on the moon. If the dome could be landed successfully, complete with live animals, a man would follow shortly. That was foregone. The question was landing the dome, just a small spaceship body, but completely equipped to keep a man alive for two years, in case anything went wrong with plans to bring him back pronto. Bill Howard's voice was excited, and he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back as he leaned across the desk, the map of Florida behind him. "To the statesmen, this is a question of who is first and who is second, and perhaps who will control the spaceways," he said after describing the countdown in process. "But to the peoples of the world, this is mankind, reaching for the stars.