“We’re moving as fast as we can, Bucky,” said Bassinger. “Just give us a few minutes, and we’ll settle it once and for all.”

“Go ahead,” said Bucky. He turned to Gaines. “I hate waiting.”

Gaines grinned. “I would never have guessed.”

“Can you blame me? I’ve bet my fortune and my reputation that there’s something out there, something that the government doesn’t want us to know about. Now we’re so close . . . Damn! I just hate this hanging around!”

“Stop yelling, Bucky,” said Neimark. “You’re hurting my ears.”

“Sorry,” said Bucky with a singular lack of sincerity.

“Tell you what,” she continued. “Count to two hundred, and by the time you get there, I’ll be able to tell you what we’ve found. If anything.”

Bucky immediately began counting.

“To yourself,” added Neimark.

He nodded to no one in particular, and began counting again, moving his lips soundlessly. Finally, he reached two hundred and looked at the screen, hoping to see something—but the video camera remained stationary, and the two figures were much smaller.

“Okay, Bucky,” said Neimark. “I am about fifty feet from one of the descent stages.”

“Okay. Good. What else can you see?”

“The other descent stage.”

Bucky was running out of patience. “Damn it. What else?”

“Nothing, Boss.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Negative. We’ve got two descent stages from lunar landers. Phil is taking photos of them from every possible angle. They’re about two hundred yards apart. And they’re in beautiful condition.”

“Why did they land there, Marcia?”

“Please!” said Neimark. “No yelling! It’s hard on my ears.”

“Sorry,” he said, and this time he meant it.

“Okay, taking a bunch of close-ups right now,” announced Bassinger.

“All right,” said Bucky, suddenly resigned. He’d been right. He’d scored a victory over the president of the United States. But suddenly it was tasteless. “All right, Marcia. Make sure you get close-ups of any ID.”

“Will do.”

“Well,” said Bucky. “At least I was right about the landings.”

“Looks like you were,” agreed Gaines. “Marcia, we’re about to lose contact with you. Catch you on the next orbit.”

“We’ll have all the photos we need by then,” she replied.

Then they were out of range, and Bucky turned his attention to Earth. “How soon before I can speak to Jerry?”

“Not long,” said Gaines. “I’ll let you know.”

Bucky studied the video of Neimark and Bassinger jumping around as if they’d been suddenly freed from confinement, then watched it again, and a third time, rapt with fascination and a sense of resentment that he wasn’t down there with them.

“Okay,” said Gaines. “Jerry’s trying to get through.”

“Put him on.”

“Video or audio?”

“Both.”

“Hey, Bucky!” said Jerry excitedly. “Do you read me?”

“Loud and clear,” replied Bucky. “We’ll be sending you a video transmission in a couple of minutes.” But Gaines was nodding at him, signaling that it had already been sent. “Hold on, Jerry. Ben tells me you should have it.”

“Wait one, Bucky.” He could hear voices in the background. “They’re telling me we got it. Give us five minutes, and we’ll know what you sent. I assume it’s not just Moon rocks?”

“A fair assumption.”

“If you don’t mind my saying it, you look awfully smug,” said Jerry.

“You’ll figure out why soon enough.”

Jerry spoke to someone off camera. “We’ll have it decrypted and enhanced in about three more minutes.”

“So how are the Giants doing?” asked Bucky.

“I assume you’re not about to give me a hint of what’s on the video,” said Jerry. “Okay, New York or San Francisco?”

Bucky smiled. “I had in mind the giants of industry.”

Jerry chuckled. “Well, the only one who counts is enjoying himself immensely by teasing his spokesman.” He paused. “I wish I was on that ship right now.”

“The ship? Or the Moon?”

“Either one. Ever since I was a kid . . .”

“Yeah, the whole world wanted to be Neil Armstrong.”

Suddenly staid, unflappable Jerry Culpepper let out a war whoop as he looked at something off to his left. “I’ll be damned! You found the descent stages!”

“You knew we would,” said Bucky happily. “It was the rest of the world that doubted it. Marcia Neimark and Phil Bassinger are next to them right now, taking close-ups. We’ll transmit them on the next orbit.”

“So far everything’s been encrypted, including this conversation,” said Jerry. “Let me know when you want everything released to the world.”

“Now’s as good a time as any,” said Bucky. “Can you patch me through and send the visual and audio of what I say next out to everyone—media, computers, everyone?”

“Not a problem,” said Jerry. “Wait for my signal.” It took two minutes, then Jerry said, “You’re on in ten seconds.”

Bucky counted to fifteen on the assumption that the adrenaline he was pumping was making him count too fast, and then stared into the camera that was transmitting his image back to Earth.

“This is Morgan Blackstone,” he announced, “and I am speaking to you in orbit around the Moon. I know a lot of you have decided that I’m some kind of publicity-seeking nutcase, and that, of course, Neil Armstrong was the first man to land on the Moon.” He paused for effect, then a huge smile spread across his face. “Well, I’m here to tell you that the nutcase has found proof that Sidney Myshko was the first man on the Moon, predating Neil Armstrong by more than half a year, and that Blackstone Enterprises back on Earth is about to transmit videos taken from orbit that will confirm what I said. When we finish our next orbit of the Moon, which gives the administration time to tell you that these are phony, we’ll be transmitting still photos taken from just a few feet away from the abandoned descent stages. I’ve told our team on the Moon to make sure that any identifying codes are clearly visible.” Another huge grin. “This is the publicity-seeking nutcase signing off.”

“Somebody in Washington’s not going to love you,” said Gaines with a smile as he broke the connection.

“I know.”

“Then why antagonize them so?”

“To keep them busy while we accomplish our mission,” answered Bucky.

Gaines frowned. “But we’ve already proven you were right, that Myshko and Walker really did land on the Moon . . . so what are you talking about?”

“You’re brighter than that, Ben,” said Bucky. “Use your brain.”

Gaines was silent for a moment. “I still don’t understand,” he said. “We found the descent stage. We know Sidney Myshko landed. We’ve accomplished our mission.”

“We’ve justified our mission, Ben,” said Bucky. “We haven’t accomplished a damned thing. With a little luck, that comes next.”

Gaines shook his head. “I don’t follow you.”

“Think about it. We know Myshko and Walker landed on the Moon. There’s no longer any question about it. We know that the government has kept it secret for half a century. There’s no longer any question about that, either. Now we come to the real purpose of this mission, and with luck we can accomplish it before Marcia and Phil run out of air.”

Gaines stared at him. “Boss, it was a stunt. A couple of guys who wanted to walk on the Moon. What else could it be?”

31

The population conference got off to a bad start. Everybody seemed to recognize the severity of the problem, and that in itself constituted good news. The major powers understood the threat to peace presented by uncontrolled growth. But there were vast gaps in the proposals on how to deal with the issue. Cunningham’s advisors were pushing for a combination of approaches, mostly aimed at spurring economic development. History demonstrated that population growth tended to level off with prosperity, and it did so without widespread abortions. But it meant making liberal education available, putting money and sound management into the economies and managing them rationally. No one had ever succeeded in dealing with the problem on a large scale. In fact, nation-building had at best a weak track record. Even with the unified efforts of the major powers, Cunningham couldn’t see its happening. And they were by no means unified. Some wanted, for example, simply to ignore the more desperate areas of the planet and concentrate on keeping weapons out of the hands of militants. That was another blind alley.