name is David Barrett?"
"That is correct."
"Your occupation?"
"Agricultural engineer, retired."
"Mr. Barrett, will you tell this court exactly why you have come to the Moon."
"I was curious to see what it was like here and I had the time and money."
Irving Schuster looked at Barrett obliquely through his thick glasses; he had always found this had an unsettling effect on witnesses. To wear spectacles was almost a sign of eccentricity in this age, but doctors and lawyers - especially the older ones-still patronized them; indeed, they had come to symbolize the legal and medical professions.
"You were 'curious to see what it was like,'" Schuster quoted. "That's no explanation. Why were you curious?"
"I am afraid that question is so vaguely worded that I cannot answer it. Why does one do anything?"
Commodore Hansteen relaxed with a smile of pleasure. This was just what he wanted - to get the passengers arguing and talking freely about something that would be of mutual interest to them all, but would arouse no passions or controversy. (It might do that, of course, but it was up to him to keep order in Court.)
"I admit," continued Counsel, "that my question might have been more specific. I will try to reframe it."
He thought for a moment, shuffling his notes. They consisted merely of sheets from one of the tourist guides. He had scribbled a few hines of questioning in the margins, but they were really for effect and reassurance. He had never hiked to stand up in court without something in his hand; there were times when a few seconds of imaginary consultation were priceless.
"Would it be fair to say that 'you were attracted by the Moon's scenic beauties?"
"Yes, that was part of the attraction. I had seen the tourist literature and movies, of course, and wondered if the reality would live up to it."
"And has it done so?"
"I would say," was the dry answer, "that it has exceeded my expectations."
There was general laughter from the rest of the company. Commodore Hansteen rapped loudly on the back of his seat.
"Order!" he called. "If there are any disturbances, I shall have to clear the Court!"
This, as he had intended, started a much louder round of laughter, which he let run its natural course. When the mirth had died down, Schuster continued in his most "Where were you on the night of the twenty-second?" tone of voice.
"This is very interesting, Mr. Barrett. You have come all the way to the Moon, at considerable expense, to hook at the view. Tell me-have you ever seen the Grand Canyon?"
"No. Have you?"
"Your Honor!" appealed Schuster. "The witness is being unresponsive."
Hansteen looked severely at Mr. Barrett, who did not seem in the least abashed.
"You are not conducting this enquiry, Mr. Barrett. Your job is to answer questions, not to ask them."
"I beg the Court's pardon, my Lord," replied the witness.
"Er - am I 'my Lord'?" said Hansteen uncertainly, turning to Schuster. "I thought I was 'your Honor. '"
The lawyer gave the matter several seconds of solemn thought.
"I suggest - your Honor - that each witness use the procedure to which he is accustomed in his country. As long as due deference is shown to the Court, that would seem to be sufficient."
"Very well - proceed."
Schuster turned to his witness once more.
"I would hike to know, Mr. Barrett, why you found it necessary to visit the Moon while there was so much of Earth that you hadn't seen. Can you give us any valid reason for this illogical behavior?"
It was a good question, just the sort that would interest everyone, and Barrett was now making a serious attempt to answer it.
"I've seen a fair amount of Earth," he said slowly, with his precise English accent - almost as great a rarity now as Schuster's spectacles. "I've stayed at the Hotel Everest, been to both Poles, even gone to the bottom of the Calypso Deep. So I know something about our planet. Let's say it had lost its capacity to surprise me. The Moon, on the other hand, was completely new - a whole world less than twenty-four hours away. I couldn't resist the novelty."
Hansteen listened to the show and careful analysis with only half his mind. He was unobtrusively examining the audience while Barrett spoke. By now he had formed a good picture of Selene's crew and passengers, and had decided who could be relied upon, and who would give trouble, if conditions became bad.
The key man, of course, was Captain Harris. The Commodore knew his type