"And why wouldn't I know a spaceship when I see one?" I said. "It just so happens I'm a doctor of science."
"A doctor of science, now," said Keech.
"Invited by the American government to work on the first moon rocket here at the nuclear propulsion center. Since it's no secret I can advise you of it."
"A scientist, is it," said Keech. "Well, now, that's very interesting."
"I'll make no apologies for it," I said.
"Oh, there's no need for apology," said Keech. "Though in truth we prefer poets to scientists. But it has just now crossed my mind, Mr. Houlihan that you, being a scientist, might be of help to us."
"How?" I asked.
"Well, I might try starting at the beginning," he replied.
"You might," I said. "A man usually does."
Keech took out his own pipe—a clay dudeen—and looked hopeful. I gave him a pinch of tobacco from my pouch. "Well, now," he said, "first of all you're no doubt surprised to find us here in America."