They sent relays of shuttles up to the big ship, with fuel and ship-to-base radio and an ace pilot, encased in the newest and safest of protective gear, to guide her down. The first shuttle took Johnny off, while official cameras recorded for all time the opening of the historic lock and the return of mankind’s first space-traveler to Terra’s Moon. The cameras kept grinding inside the shuttle while Major Wendt was bathed under batteries of ultraviolet, and a medic in Geiger-suit looked down his throat, checked his heartbeat and pulse and lungs, looked at his insides under a fluoroscope, took smears and samples and ran off fast lab checks--then smiled and handed him a brand-new uniform, one they could trust to harbor no alien virus or unknown seed. The camera followed him out of the shuttle, into the dome lock. Another camera, and the live video scanners, picked him up inside the dome. But in the lock, for the sixty-nine seconds it took to bleed air, no record was made. And Chris was there, alone, to meet him first. He pumped Johnny’s hand, grinning with triumph. “_Man!_” he said. “We made it, man!” Then his grin faded. “_You_ did,” he corrected. “Johnny--what happened to Doug?” “I don’t know,” Wendt said. The inner door opened. Cameras swung into action. General Harbridge stepped forward and shook Johnny’s hand. “Congratulations--Colonel!” he said, and pinned the new eagles onto the new uniform. But when they were under way, out of range for a moment of audio pickups, he asked anxiously, “Wendt--what happened to Laughlin?” “I don’t know,” Johnny said, “sir.” Then, wearily: “Everything I know is in the Log, sir. I brought it down with me. I figured you’d want it. The doctor’s got it.” Harbridge nodded and said nothing more. But his smile when he led Johnny up to the platform on the Mall was a shade forced. And as soon as he decently could, he whispered a word to an aide and ducked out, leaving the assembled Dignitaries to welcome the space hero home. Nobody missed him. The Ambassadors and Senators pinned a whole chestful of medals on the new uniform, and found a few for Dr. Christensen and his staff too. Then the VIPs and the cameras followed the new colonel to his first meal. The staff conference room had been turned into a banquet hall. Johnny was toasted and feted and fed. They asked him to speak. He stood up and looked at them all and his face was grim. Chris, sitting next to him, knowing him almost too well from five years of training and planning before the trip, stood up quickly beside him and grabbed the mike. “Boy’s all choked up,” he said. While the room laughed he managed to cover the mike for a moment. “Just tell ’em thanks, Johnny.” When it was quiet again, Wendt looked around, indecisive, looked down at Chris and grinned painfully. “I’m not much of a speaker,” he said. “I ... Hell, I’m glad to be home!” “Thanks,” Chris said. When it all broke up, Chris took him up to his room. “Thanks?”