* * * * * Carved above the entrance of the huge stone building were the words: UNITED STATES BUREAU OF INTERPLANETARY RESEARCH Jeffrey stopped to catch his breath. How many of his letters had passed over that mountainous series of steps? How many, like those to Congress, to the Pentagon and to the President, had been crumpled, torn, tossed into waste baskets? It didn't matter. He was doing now what he should have done a month ago--appearing in person with his proof. He lumbered up the stone steps. His watery eyes widened at the bright murals in the vast foyer--murals of stars and planets, of rockets and spacemen, all centered about a gigantic and symbolic pair of human hands reaching upward. Jeffrey squinted down the white, clean, cool halls. So this was where spacemen of today lived, studied, worked, experimented. How different from that battered quonset hut in the hot, wind-burnt New Mexican desert. "May I help you, sir?" The voice snapped him back to reality. He turned and saw a young man seated at a desk a short distance away. The man was sleepy-eyed, with black, close-cropped hair and ears that were too big. On the desk was a placard that said: _Officer of The Day: Lieutenant Andrews_. The lieutenant drummed his fingers on the desk. "Speak up, old timer. What is it? If you want information on today's flight, just help yourself to these folders." "No, no." Jeffrey walked up to the desk, brushed away the folders. "I--I want to see someone in authority. There's something I have to tell them." "I'm in charge. Go ahead and tell it to me." Jeffrey trembled. "It's going to sound crazy. You might not believe--" "Go ahead and tell it. Then I'll decide whether to believe." Confidence came to Jeffrey. He touched the reassuring bulge of the stone and the photograph in his pocket. Then he began to speak. "Well, you've read how things were back in 1957. The world cut in half. Communism on one side, Democracy on the other. Both sides threatening the other. Both building faster and faster jets and bigger and bigger H-bombs. People felt like they were walking on tight-ropes. "In August of '57 the Russians announced that they had the biggest H-bomb ever made. The President and his cabinet and the top brass met. The Army Chief of Staff was already on record in saying there was no perfect defense against an H-bomb attack. Radar nets, anti-aircraft and fighter planes would take care of a lot of attacking bombers or missiles, but some would probably get through. There had to be something else--something as daring as the first A-bomb project back in World War II. "The answer was obvious: a _manned_ artificial satellite." The lieutenant stiffened. He made a sucking noise with his lips.