"Andy, you always were different. I could never figure you out, and I'm not interested in trying. But all I've got to say is you're just not using common sense. What if all us Workers who worship the Actors and Actresses up on Hollywood II stormed the Moon? Took a million rockets and all flew to the Moon! You are crazy, Andy. And think how wonderful the Sensory Shows are! Work a few hours a week, and the rest of the time you can live a beautiful life with actors and actresses who are so good they can make you believe anything." "Not me," Andy said. "If a dream can't come true, it's no good. So I'm going to the moon, to Studio City; I'm going to find Glora Delar, in person." Her dull eyes bulged incredulously at him. "Andy! That's forbidden! You'd be breaking a Class-A Law, and you know what happens to them that does that?" "I'm going," Andy said. "I can sneak aboard a moon rocket; I'm going tonight." "Andy, I'll tell! I'll not let you do it!" Andy lunged. Her cries gurgled into silence under his fingers. He lifted her shivering body up over the colonnade. "I figured you would," he said. "And then I figured that this way--you wouldn't." [Illustration: Andy watched the woman fall.] Her body fell into the darkness. Brooks stood there a long time gazing down at the curling white foam of the breakers. It was like ripping open a black hole and pouring the past into it. He closed up the hole and turned. He could never have submitted to _directed_ Sensory Shows, so he had to fight. In the old days a man could fight for what he loved, even if success was impossible. It was pursuit that counted, the pursuit of happiness that had made men and nations strong--when there _had_ been men and nations. Andy's heart beat wildly as he went down the escalator. He might not succeed, but he would have the pleasure of trying the forbidden and incredible; he would crash the gates of Studio City on the Moon. * * * * * The pilot was forward in the cage checking the pre-navigation controls. Brooks slipped into the freight chamber and crawled behind newly loaded packing cases. His skin tingled, and his breathing was rapid. His audacity had been the big factor in his successfully sneaking aboard the new Moon supply rocket. It was inconceivable that anyone would so much as think of breaking a Class-A Law; the punishment was extreme. Only a few select personnel, other than the Stars, including producers and directors and psycho-genic-radial screen projection artists and the like, ever made the flight. And for them, it was always a one-way trip. Only the pilot and the Security Guard accompanying the flight ever returned from the Moon, and they never left the rocket while on the Moon. The rocket always returned immediately to Earth. A veil of glamorous mystery surrounded the Stars and their fabulous Studio City.