Charley lay there in the darkness and tried to put himself into the place of Cooper Jackson. He tried to imagine what Cooper might have imagined, what far adventuring he might have embarked upon.
Then let the same invalid suddenly become aware of the world around him, as Cooper had—for now he read the newspapers and the news magazines. Let him see what kind of shape the world was in.
What might happen then?
You're crazy, Charley told himself. But he lay for a long time, looking up into the black, before he went to sleep.
COOPER seemed to like him, and they spent a part of each day together. They talked about science fiction and the news of the day and what should be done to ensure world peace. Charley told him he didn't know what should be done, that a lot of men much smarter than he were working full time on it, and they had found no answer yet.
"Someone," said Cooper, "must do something about it." And the way he said it, you would have sworn that he was going to set out any minute to do that very thing.
So Charley went to call on old Doc Ames.
"I've heard of you," the doctor told him. "Coop was telling me about you just the other day."
"I've been spending a little time with Cooper," Charley said, "and I've wanted to ask him something, but I haven't done it."
"I know. You wanted to ask him about the story that was in the papers here a few months back."