For the next thirty minutes, Dan Lubrano asked her the sort of questions that might make an adequate Sunday-supplement feature. Nothing startling, nothing very original—except for the fact that Jeanne, as the fiancee of the first man to rocket across interplanetary space and reach the moon, was an unusual subject. Did she plan on marrying Tom upon his return? Naturally, but only the highest echelon of government and military circles knew when that might be. Was she afraid the utter desolation of space would somehow—change him? Lubrano made the pause significant. Might make him more romantic if anything, although Tom never tended toward stodginess. Could she be quoted as saying she looked up at the moon every clear night and called softly, silently, secretly to Tom across the unthinkable distances? Yes, if it were absolutely necessary.
When they finished, Jeanne said: "Don't tell me that's all, Dan?"
"Officially, yes. Unofficially, I haven't started. Look, Miss Peterson—Jeanne—mind if I'm perfectly frank?"
Jeanne said she didn't mind at all.
Lubrano grinned, displaying his piano-key teeth. "Jeanne, all my life I've looked for something like you. Only it's something you almost never find. Either you're lucky or you're not. Me, I'm lucky, I've found the fiancee of the Man in the Moon. To make things even better, you've got your share of good looks—and you're not dumb, either."
"I don't understand."
"Jeanne, we can make a million bucks together. Quick, with hardly any work. Want to?"
"It sounds crazy, Dan. You're not making any sense."
"No? Then listen." He turned on the radio, waited for the tubes to warm up, dialed at random for a station. "... at this hour, we know only that the Man in the Moon has landed on Earth's far satellite, that he has signalled the success of his mission with a phosphorous flare, and that he has as yet established no radio contact, although that is expected momentarily. It is anticipated that the government will make an announcement shortly. This much is certain, however. In order to consolidate our position on the moon, we will have to send up another spaceman to join fearless Captain Bentley on our bleak satellite, eventually an entire crew of technicians—"
"Is that all?" Jeanne demanded. "Of course Tom is news. What's the connection?"