"Forgive me, Alexis. I just couldn't help remembering. I suppose it's
this shot we're going to make, tonight. It's so much like the other
ones, before--" He hesitated slightly. "Before the Auburn Bomb."

There; he'd come out and said it. In all the years they'd worked
together at the _Instituto Argentino de Ciencia Fisica_, that had been
unmentioned between them. The families of hanged cutthroats avoid
mention of ropes and knives. He thumbed the old-fashioned American
lighter and held it to his pipe. Across the veranda, in the darkness, he
knew that Pitov was looking intently at him.

"You've been thinking about that, lately, haven't you?" the Russian
asked, and then, timidly: "Was that what you were dreaming of?"

"Oh, no, thank heaven!"

"I think about it, too, always. I suppose--" He seemed relieved, now
that it had been brought out into the open and could be discussed. "You
saw it fall, didn't you?"

"That's right. From about thirty miles away. A little closer than we'll
be to this shot, tonight. I was in charge of the investigation at
Auburn, until we had New York and Washington and Detroit and Mobile and
San Francisco to worry about. Then what had happened to Auburn wasn't
important, any more. We were trying to get evidence to lay before the
United Nations. We kept at it for about twelve hours after the United
Nations had ceased to exist."

"I could never understand about that, Lee. I don't know what the truth
is; I probably never shall. But I know that my government did not launch