"Exactly," he said. "We'll go and explain everything to the police. But we'll do it in grand style. This is your big show. We must have Jones and the Mayor. We must have photographers, reporters, television, radio--everything!" * * * * * Nan returned. "The girl will be all right. She was just upset." "Honey," I told her excitedly, "we're about to stand the whole country on its collective ear. Ashe is going to reveal his identity!" Nan's face pinched into a look of disgust. "You mean you're trusting this--this creature again?" "Sure, honey. Anyone can make a mistake." "That's right!" she exploded. "You're making one now! Oh, Ted, stop being such a fool!" "Listen here," I said, "this is the last two minutes of the game. We're trying to score before the gun--and you start an argument!" She began to blubber. Why must she always be so unreasonable? Why the constant bickering and tension and unhappiness? I was sick to death of it. I grabbed Ashe's arm. "Come on," I said, "let's go." Even outdoors, the air felt hot and clammy. I headed the car for the plant, figuring I could do my phoning from there as well as pick a crew. But on Main Street, Ashe spotted a cab and made me stop. He said he'd better go on ahead. He thought things would work smoother that way. He could start the ball rolling on the release of Tommy, and I wouldn't be held up by having to tell people who he was. I drove on alone. But it was a mistake. People simply didn't believe my story about an alien being. In various ways and tones of voice, they all suggested I go home and sleep it off. In desperation, I went up to Jones' house, even though he'd already told me on the phone that he was in the middle of a dinner party. He came up close to me and sniffed my breath. "Don't worry," I told him. "I never touch it. But maybe I should smell yours. Anyone who turns his back on the biggest story of all time must be drunk!" He jerked the cigar from his mouth and gave me a narrow-eyed, searching look. "Ted, I just hope for your sake this isn't some kind of a joke." * * * * * Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up to the police station in a three car convoy, with a big crew from the paper. I led the group inside, feeling the excitement grow in me. I marched up to the desk sergeant. "Where is he?" The desk sergeant looked startled. "Who?" Well, he wasn't there. He just wasn't there! It was like getting tackled two yards from a touch-down by a tackler you hadn't realized was anywhere near! Jones pushed forward, chewing agitatedly on his cigar. "Edward, you've got some nerve, pulling a stunt like this! It's an outrage!" "Take it easy," I said weakly. "Something's gone wrong." "It certainly has. You must have gone insane!" "Listen here! If you don't stick with me on this, I'm all through with the paper!" "That suits me fine!"