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was orbiting at a height of 270 miles – well below the bottom layer of radiation.’
    â€˜But the Apollo module has flown through the Van Allen belt on its way to the moon,’ said Connors.
    â€˜And back, too,’ said Wedderkind. ‘Flying through it is a lot different than orbiting for an extended period inside it. Even under normal conditions there would be a definite radiation hazard to the Apollo module and the crew. At the moment, the energy levels in the Van Allen belts must be fantastically high. Since Telstar One and Two, all our satellites have been equipped with radiation shields. For all of them to be put temporarily out of action like that means they’ve taken a big shot of gammarays. We could overcome the problem, but we’d have to measure the radiation levels with sounding rockets before we could modify the Apollo. And the shuttle would present an even bigger problem. We’d have to put in extra shielding to protect the crew and instrumentation, and if they’re going to do any EVA to inspect our friend, we’ll need to build some additional protection into their space suits. And that’s going to take time.’
    â€˜Friend may be the wrong word,’ said Connors. ‘If he’s knocked out all our satellites, and everything the Russians have put up there, he may knock out the Apollo mission too. This fade-out could be an uncontrollable side effect, or its use could be deliberate.’
    â€˜As a weapon.’ It was Fraser. As warlike as ever.
    Connors shrugged. ‘The point is, if we do launch an Apollo, that thing up there isn’t going to know there are men inside. Do we want to get into that kind of situation?’
    â€˜What are we suddenly talking about weapons for?’ asked Wedderkind. ‘Okay, we’ve got a few problems – ’
    â€˜A few?’ Fraser snorted. ‘Jesus, Arnold, where have you been the last three days?’
    Wedderkind blinked rapidly but didn’t look at Fraser. “That doesn’t mean that the world is being circled by a malevolent intelligence. And why would anyone out there wish us any harm? For God’s sake – even to reach us, they have to be more advanced than we are. In every way. To the point, perhaps, where communication – on our level – is impossible.’
    â€˜If that’s the case, why bother to get in touch with us?’ asked Fraser.
    â€˜The contact has to have some purpose.’ said Wedderkind.
    â€˜What form do you think it will take?’ asked Samuels.
    Wedderkind hunched up his shoulders. ‘If we’re lucky, we may find someone has made us a gift of a harmlesspiece of hardware. We have to look, to listen – and above all, try to understand.’
    â€˜Yeah, well, that all sounds great, Arnold. But meanwhile, what are we going to do back at the ranch?’ Fraser was playing the Philistine, but it was a practical question – and one Connors would have asked, but less belligerently.
    Wedderkind’s lips pinched together. He looked towards Fraser but not at him. ‘I think we should do all we can, without doing anything stupid.’
    â€˜So what’s the final decision on the Apollo shot?’ asked Connors.
    â€˜I think we’ll hang fire on that for a while,’ said the President. He stood up abruptly. ‘I’m hungry. Do any of you fellas want to eat? All I’ve had since eight this morning is one lousy chicken sandwich.’
    Silvermann had brought up two, as ordered, but the President had made the mistake of offering Connors the second one.
    After dinner, the President called the Kremlin and discussed the situation for nearly thirty-five minutes. Connors handled the translation. The President began by commiserating with Premier Leonovich over the probable loss of the cosmonauts manning the two Russian space-stations. He then reviewed the various options available and told the Russians that an Apollo