"Smith? That's his name?"
"John Smith," Liddell said.
"I don't believe it. I never thought there actually was anybody named John Smith anywhere, anytime."
"We," said Liddell, "have a John Smith."
"Darn this deep well cooker! It isn't hot enough yet to put a good crust on—"
"A fine time to talk about cooking," Liddell shouted, hoping his voice would carry back into the galley over the click-clacking racket of the sub-space communicator. "Hey here's more from the Luna outbound station," he added as the transfer screen pulsed and flashed again.
"Such as what?"
"It's still blurry. Here it comes now."
"Well?"
"Hey, what the hell is this!" Liddell cried abruptly.