"Will we be honest now? Will you help us?"
"Yes, Captain, I will help you. Let us go back to your rocket." Mr. Greypoole smiled. "Things will be better there."
Captain Webber signaled. They left the building and walked by the foot of a white mountain.
They passed a garden with little spotted trees and flowers, a brown desert of shifting sands and a striped tent; they walked by strawberry fields and airplane hangars and coal mines; tiny yellow cottages, cramped apartments, fluted houses and Tudor houses and houses without description....
Past rock pools and a great zoo full of animals that stared out of vacant eyes; and everywhere, the seasons changing gently: crisp autumn, cottony summer, windy spring and winters cool and white....
The six men in uniforms followed the little man with the thin hair. They did not speak as they walked, but looked around, stared, craned, wondered....
And the old, young, middle-aged, white, brown, yellow people who did not move wondered back at the men with their eyes....
"You see, Captain, the success of Mr. Waldmeyer's plan?"
Captain Webber rubbed his cheek.