"Have you got those pics?" Winstein cut in.
"Sure. Porter gave me an exclusive in return for socking me. It was worth it. Remember back in the Twenties, when the newspapermen talked about a scoop? Well, we've got the biggest scoop of the century."
"Maybe," said Winstein. "The Government hasn't made any announcement yet. Where's Porter?"
"Under arrest, where'd you think? After announcing that he would land on his New Mexico ranch, he did just that. As soon as he stepped out, a couple of dozen Government agents grabbed him. Violation of parole—he left the state without notifying his parole officer. But they couldn't touch me, and they knew it.
"Here's another bit of news for your personal information. A bomb went off inside the ship after it landed and blew the drive to smithereens. The only information is inside Porter's head. He's got the Government where the short hair grows."
"Looks like it. See here, Terry; you get all the information you can and be back here by Saturday. You're going to go on the Weekend Report."
"Me? I'm no actor. Let Maxon handle it."
"No. This is hot. You're an eye-witness. Maxon will interview you. Understand?"
"O.K.; you're the boss, Ole. Anything else?"
"Not right now, but if anything more comes up, call in."