"We do not believe it is a wrong when a greater value prevails over a lesser," Mr. Cherkassov said. "Moondog sends us information that will hasten the time of safe space-travel for humans."
"And who might you be, to say which value is greatest? Space travel is moonshine, just moonshine!"
"I do not understand your word, madame. If you mean impossible, I must point out that moondog has already crossed space."
Martha clasped her hands in her lap. "That's what I mean, grown men and such silliness, and the poor little dog has to pay."
Mr. Cherkassov spoke earnestly. "Forgive me if my ignorance of your language causes me to misunderstand, madame. We believe because man now has the ability to cross space he therefore has a duty to all life on Earth to help it reach other planets. Earth is overcrowded with men, not to speak of the wild life that soon must all die. We believe that around other suns we will find Earth-like planets where we can plough and harvest and build homes. I cannot agree that it is silly."
Martha flung her head back.
"Well, it is silly. Who'll go? All the men who do things will run away to them and then where will we be? Oh no, Mr. Cherkassov, that gets you nowhere!"
"Your pardon, madame," a TASS man interrupted. "What kind of men will run away?"
"The sour-faced men who fix pipes and TV and make A-bombs and electricity and things."
"Oh," said Mr. Cherkassov. He drummed on his briefcase. Then, "Perhaps only Russians will go, madame. You could pass a law. I must confess to you, we might have sent a man to the moon, but we feared the propaganda use your country might make of it."