hair. “No,” he said abruptly. “I had an abominable night. May I be excused long enough to make myself more presentable?”
“Of course. Would you like to have me prepare breakfast meanwhile? You may be unacquainted with the equipment.”
“It would be a favor,” said Denison.
He emerged some twenty minutes later, washed and shaved, wearing trousers and an undershirt. He said, “I trust I didn’t break the shower. It went off and I couldn’t turn it on again.”
“The water’s rationed. You only get so much. This is the Moon, Doctor. I’ve taken the liberty of preparing scrambled eggs and hot soup for the two of us.”
“Scrambled—”
“We call it that. Earthmen wouldn’t, I suppose.”
Denison said, “Oh!” He sat down with something less than enthusiasm and tasted the pasty yellow mixture that clearly was what the other meant by scrambled eggs. He tried not to make a face at the first taste and then manfully swallowed it and dug in for a second forkful.
“You’ll get used to it with time,” said Neville, “and it’s highly nourishing. I might warn you that the highprotein content and the low gravity will cut your need for food.”
“Just as well,” said Denison, clearing his throat.
Neville said, “Selene tells me that you intend to stay on the Moon.”
Denison said, “That was my intention.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’ve had a terrible night, though. It tests my resolution.”
“How many times did you fall out of bed?”
“Twice.… I take it that the situation is a common one.”
“For men of Earth, an invariable one. Awake, you can make yourself walk with due regard for the Moon’s gravity. Asleep, you toss as you would on Earth. But at least falling is not painful at low gravity.”
“The second time, I slept on the floor awhile before waking. Didn’t remember falling. What the hell do you do about it?”
“You mustn’t neglect your periodic checks on heartbeat, blood pressure, and so on, just to make sure the gravity change isn’t introducing too much of a strain.”
“I’ve been amply warned of that,” said Denison with distaste. “In fact, I have fixed appointments for the next month. And pills.”
“Well,” said Neville, as if dismissing a triviality, “within a week you’ll probably have no trouble at all.… And you’ll need proper clothing. Those trousers will never do and that flimsy upper garment serves no purpose.”
“I presume there’s some place I can buy clothes.”
“Of course. If you can get her when she’s off duty, Selene will be glad to help you, I’m sure. She assures me you’re a decent sort, Doctor.”
“I’m delighted she thinks so.” Denison, having swallowed a spoonful of the soup, looked at it as though he were wondering what to do with the rest. Grimly, he continued the task of downing it.
“She judged you to be a physicist, but of course she’s wrong.”
“I was trained as a radiochemist.”
“You haven’t worked at that either for a long time, Doctor. We may be out of it up here, but we’re not that far out of it. You’re one of Hallam’s victims.”
“Are there so many you speak of them as a group?”
“Why not? The whole Moon is one of Hallam’s victims.”
“The Moon?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We have no Electron Pump Stations on the Moon. None have been established because there has been no cooperation from the para-Universe. No samples of tungsten have been accepted.”
“Surely, Dr. Neville, you don’t intend to imply that this is Hallam’s doing.”
“In a negative way, yes. Why must it be only the para-Universe which can initiate a Pump Station. Why not ourselves?”
“As far as I know, we lack the knowledge to take the initiative.”
“And we will continue to lack the knowledge if research into the matter is forbidden.”
“Is it forbidden?” Denison asked, with a faint note of surprise.
“In effect. If none of the work necessary to expand knowledge in that direction finds adequate priorities at the proton synchrotron or at any of the other large equipment—all controlled by Earth and all under the influence of Hallam—then the research is effectively forbidden.”
Denison rubbed his eyes. “I suspect I will have to sleep again before long.… I beg your pardon. I did not mean to imply you were boring me. But tell me, is the Electron Pump so important to the Moon? Surely the Solar batteries are effective and sufficient.”
“They tie us to the Sun, Doctor. They tie us to the surface.”
“Well—But why does Hallam take this adverse interest in the matter, do you suppose, Dr. Neville?”
“You know better than I, if you know him personally,