Mathematically, a rocket ship that could leave the Platform with full fuel tanks should have fuel to reach the moon and land on it, and take off again and return to the Platform. The mathematical fact had a peculiar nagging flavor. When a dream is subjected to statistical analysis and the report is in its favor, a dreamer's satisfaction is always diluted by a subconscious feeling that the report is only part of the dream. Everybody worries a little when a cherished dream shows a likelihood of coming true. Some people take firm steps to stop things right there, so a romantic daydream won't be spoiled by transmutation into prosaic fact. But Joe said doggedly: "Twenty ferry trips to pile up fuel, and the twenty-first ship should be able to refuel and go on out. And then somebody will step out on the moon!" He was disappointed now. He wouldn't be the one to do it. But somebody would. "You might try for the ferry service," said Sally uneasily. "I will," said Joe grimly, "but I won't be hoping too much. After all, there are astronomers and physics sharks and such things, who'll be glad to learn to run rockets in order to practice their specialties out of atmosphere." Sally said mournfully: "I can't seem to say anything to make you feel better!" "But you do," said Joe. He added grandiloquently, "But for your unflagging faith in me, I would not have the courage to bear the burdens of everyday life." She stamped her foot. "Stop it!" "All right." But he said quietly, "You are a good kid, Sally. You know, it's not too bright of me to mourn." She drew a deep breath. "That's better! Now, I want----" There was a gangling figure walking down the concrete path between the trim, monotonous cottages that were officers' quarters at the Shed. Joe said sharply: "That's Haney! What's he doing here?" He called, "Haney!" Haney's manner took on purpose. He came across the grass--the lawns around the officers' quarters contained the only grass in twenty miles. "Hiya," said Haney uncomfortably. He spoke politely to Sally. "Hiya. Uh--you want to get in on the party, Joe?" "What kind?" "The party Mike was talkin' about," said Haney. "He's set it up. He wants me to get you and a kinda--uh--undercover tip-off to Major Holt." Joe stirred. Sally said hospitably: "Sit down. You've noticed that my father gave you full security clearance, so you can go anywhere?" Haney perched awkwardly on the edge of the porch. "Yeah. That's helped with the party. It's how I got here, as far as that goes. Mike's on top of the world." "Shoot it," said Joe.