The Project Gutenberg eBook of My sweetheart's the Man in the Moon

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: My sweetheart's the Man in the Moon

Author: Stephen Marlowe

Illustrator: Emmanuel Stallman

Release date: June 24, 2022 [eBook #68393]

Most recently updated: October 18, 2024

Language: English

Original publication: United States: Royal Publications, Inc, 1956

Credits: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY SWEETHEART'S THE MAN IN THE MOON ***

My sweetheart's the Man in the Moon

By MILTON LESSER

Illustrated by STALLMAN

Not everyone will think of the first

moon-flight as the first glorious

step on the road to space. There

will always, for instance, be the

fast-buck boys like Lubrano....

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from

Infinity, December 1956.

Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that

the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

Jeanne turned off the radio and went downstairs slowly, watching how the gold-shot curtains on the landing window caught the sunlight in a multitude of brilliant flecks. She shuddered slightly. Up there, the sun would scorch and sear.

When she entered the living room, Aunt Anna looked up from her magazine, and Pop puffed on his calabash pipe, occasionally grunting with satisfaction. Mom looked at Jeanne hopefully, but soon turned away in confusion. She could not tell whether Jeanne wanted her to laugh or cry.

"Well," said Jeanne, instantly hating the flippant way she tried to speak, "he got there." She never quite knew why, but whenever emotions threatened to choke her up she would slip on the mask, the carefree attitude, the what-do-I-care voice she was using now.

"All the way—there?" Aunt Anna fluttered her eyebrows, allowing herself a rare display of emotion.

Mom smiled, laughed briefly and nervously. She touched Jeanne's cheek tentatively with a trembling hand, hugged her daughter quickly and drew back. "I didn't know," she said. "None of us knew. We were afraid to listen. I mean, it's so far."

"Knew he'd make it," said Pop, tamping his pipe full with another load of tobacco from the humidor. "Tom's got good stuff in him. Smokes a pipe, you know."

"Not up there," said Jeanne practically. "It would waste oxygen."

"It says here in this magazine the moon is 240,000 miles away," Aunt Anna told them.

"Did the announcer say how Tom felt?" Mom wanted to know.

"Just imagine how it will be," Aunt Anna said, "when we get Tom back here and he speaks to the Women's League. We'll have to make arrangements—"

"Can't," Pop reminded her. "Government hasn't said anything about when Tom's coming back. Liable to keep him there a long time. Do the boy good. See what he's really made of, I always say. Andrea, your roast is burning."

Mom scurried off toward the kitchen. A moment after she disappeared, the phone rang and Aunt Anna took the receiver off its cradle. "Hello? Yes, this is the Peterson home. Yes, she is. In a moment. Jeanne, it's for you."

"Hmmmm," Jeanne chortled. "Some fellow trying to make time because Tom's too far away to protest." She hated herself for saying it, and administered the mental kick in the pants which never helped. She was missing Tom more acutely every minute. The distance was unthinkable, the moon almost too remote to consider, lost up there in infinite void, surrounded by parcels—parsecs?—of nothing.

Picking up the receiver, Jeanne turned her back to Aunt Anna, who appeared quite eager to listen to at least half of the conversation. "Hello? Yes, this is Jeanne Peterson. The Times-Democrat? I could see you today, I suppose. Why, here at home. I'm on vacation. But what—about Tom? Oh, I see. Oh, they told you down at White Sands. Well, all right. 'Bye."

"It was a man," said Aunt Anna.

"Who said my roast was burning?" Mom asked them all indignantly as she returned from the kitchen.

"Who was the young man, Jeanne?" Aunt Anna asked.

Jeanne grinned, brushed back a stray lock of her blonde hair. "Sorry to disappoint an old gossip like you, but—"

"Tom is a long way off!"

"That was just Mr. Lubrano, a reporter on the Times-Democrat. 'How does it feel to be the fiancee of the first man to reach the moon,' he said. Funny, I hadn't thought of it that way at all. How does it feel? Did he expect me to turn cartwheels? (But, I am proud of Tom, so why don't I admit it?) He'll be down to interview me this afternoon."

"After dinner, I hope," said Mom.

Awkwardly, Aunt Anna lit a cigarette—something she did only on rare, important occasions. "It never occurred to me," she said slowly, trying to remove tobacco grains from her tongue as delicately as possible with thumb and forefinger. "Not for a moment. But Jeanne, in her own right, is also a celebrity. The Women's League has watched her grow up, I know. But suddenly, all at once, Jeanne is different. Andrea, get May King on the phone!"

"May—the president?" Mom wanted to know, somewhat awed.

"Of course, Andrea. A little imagination, that's what you need."

Mom got up doubtfully, approached the telephone as if it might jump up and attack her.

"Forget it," Jeanne told them. Use big words. Use words which would have ridiculous double-entendres for them. Frighten them. "I won't prostitute my emotional relationship with Tom for all the Women's Leagues in the county. Forget it."

"Jeanne!" said Aunt Anna.

"Jeanne," Mom echoed her, more than a little shocked. "What all this has to do with—Jeanne! Oh...."

But Jeanne was on her way upstairs to put on something gay and bright for the arrival of Mr. Lubrano. Now that she thought of it, she liked the almost electric crackle in the reporter's voice over the phone.

"Good afternoon, Miss Peterson. Honest, I feel almost like a cub. In a few hours, you've become quite a figure." Mr. Lubrano was young, good-looking in a dark, dangerous, eager Latin way. He took Jeanne's proffered hand, held it and looked at her long enough to let her know he appreciated what he saw, briefly enough to indicate everything would be strictly business if she wanted it that way.

Jeanne had been firm with Aunt Anna and her folks. Their part in this was to be strictly a vicarious one. She would answer their questions later. As it turned out, Pop almost had to propel Aunt Anna from the room, and this only because Jeanne had insisted beforehand. Mom couldn't fathom the fuss or the secrecy, and contentedly did as she was told.

"You're younger than I expected, Miss Peterson."

"Come now. Tom's only twenty-five. You know that."

"Well, then, prettier."

"Then we're even. After a reporter friend Pop once had, you could be Tyrone Power."

"Lovely dress you're wearing." He fingered the taffeta at her shoulder, let his hand rest more heavily than necessary. When she pulled away and sat as primly as she could on a straight-backed chair he said the one word, "Business?" He made it a question.

"Business."

"Just how long have you known the Man in the Moon?"

"The Man—really!"

"Oh, that's him. That's your Thomas Bentley. He's the Man in the Moon now."

Jeanne suppressed an unfeminine snicker. "About nine years. High school together, dates, going steady, engaged. The usual middle-sized town sort of thing."

"Love him?"

"Of course. Really, Mr. Lubrano."

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?"

"News is right. The biggest since we exploded the A-bomb. Listen." Lubrano dialed for another station. "... dream of all centuries, all generations. A spaceship to the moon. The implications are so tremendous that man hasn't even considered all of them. American know-how, scientific ability and determination has once again brought a new era to mankind. Tonight before you retire, Mr. and Mrs. America, give a silent prayer of thanks to our Maker for giving us the Man in the Moon. This is—"

Lubrano flicked the dial again. "... presented by Crunchy Kernels, the cereal with the truly sprightly crackle. And here he is, ladies and gentlemen, in a direct interview from White Sands, New Mexico. Dr. Amos T. Kedder, assistant supervisor of electronics for the final stages of the spaceship's construction—"

"See what I mean?" Lubrano asked triumphantly, turning off the radio. "Assistant supervisor in charge of electronics. Well, a pat on the backside for him. Nobody yesterday, the feature attraction on the Crunchy Kernel Guest of Honor Show today. Startling, isn't it?"

"What's all this got to do with me?" Jeanne asked.

"Every place you turn," said Lubrano. "Can't avoid it. Honey, who wants to? Don't get me wrong. You won't just be my meal ticket. I'll have to do most of the work, but together, watch our smoke. A million bucks, honey! That's the goal. Want to get on the gravy train?"

"Maybe," said Jeanne. "But I still don't—"

"Look," Lubrano sneered. "I'm a newspaperman, struggling along at fifteen bucks a week over the Guild minimum. But I got ideas, honey. Public relations, that's the field. Public relations. There's millions in it.

"Get the right start and you got it made. We can't have Bentley here on Earth—tough. But we got his gal-friend. A red-hot item, if handled properly. Man! Commercial endorsements as a starter, then maybe a lecture tour, theater appearances, even cheesecake pictures for the magazines. Get it, honey?"

"Why, yes. I'm beginning to under—"

"Of course you get it! Jeanne Peterson reads Cosmopolite to while away her lonely hours. Jeanne smokes Dromedaries, relaxes in her bathtub with Luroscent, dreams of her lover on the moon on a Softafoam pillow, writes him letters and saves them for his return by using Perma-blue ink, wears a Furform coat to keep her warm while gazing at the crescent moon on chill autumn nights. Get it, honey? Get it?"

Jeanne laughed softly. "Talk about your prostitution," she said, half-aloud.

"Huh? What say?" Effusive with enthusiasm, Lubrano hardly heard her.

"Nothing. Nothing. It's been interesting, Dan." She stood up, led him to the door. "Let me think about it. I've got to think."

"Say, wait a minute." Almost, Lubrano seemed indignant. "You looked all hepped up about it, honey—why the quick freeze? If you think you can do this yourself without help from me, you've got another guess coming. I've got the contacts, you've got the name we want to sell. You can't do it alone. A fifty-fifty split, straight down the middle."

Mechanically, Jeanne's mind went to work. Also mechanically, she spoke. "Fifty-fifty baloney. You get twenty-five per cent, Mr. Lubrano, and not another penny. You must take me for a yokel."

"Forty."

"I said twenty-five."

"All right. All right. There's still enough in it for me. Twenty-five per cent. Meet me tomorrow morning at my—"

"That's if I decide the idea is worthwhile," Jeanne said, pushing him across the door-sill and watching him retreat reluctantly down the walk to the street.

When Mom and the others asked Jeanne later, she was the picture of co-operation. She told them everything about Mr. Lubrano and his pleasant interview. She told them nothing about Dan and his not-so-fantastic plans.

Jeanne excused herself after dinner, her mind seething with proposal and counter-proposal, and went upstairs to her room, but found sleep impossible. Was it fair to Tom, capitalizing on whatever feelings they had for each other? Was it fair to herself? If Lubrano had his way, a glorified Hollywood love would result. Jeanne and Tom would be adopted by the nation as its favorite lovers. Their faces would grace pop-bottles, sipping cola together in an infinite regress of progressively smaller bottles. Their forms would loll on all the beach billboards, proclaiming in the latest, brightest colors that the Man in the Moon and his girl-friend insisted on Sunburst bathing suits. And Jeanne would be waiting with her Chlorogate toothpaste smile for her lover to return from the infinite distances.

When he returned, nothing would be left. Commercial love, exploited love, hounded love, a cheap, impossible, publicized and doomed-to-failure marriage, if Tom ever allowed it to go that far.

"Phooey on you, Jeanne Peterson!" Jeanne said aloud, and sat up in bed, surprised at the loudness of her own voice. She was imagining things. It wouldn't be as bad as all that. Exploitation for a few months—and a small fortune, if not the great wealth that Dan promised. And the physical comforts made possible by whatever she earned would, over a period of time, smother Tom's anger.

Still, the one honest emotional experience which somehow had penetrated deeper than the veneer she exposed to the world had been her relationship with Tom. But she could make money, make herself happy, make Tom happy—if not immediately on his return then eventually. But....

Soon after the milkman pulled his truck to the curb down on the corner, Jeanne fell asleep.

"Hold it! Hold it!" The agency director of photography, a small, round man with a thin voice, waved the photographer off his camera impatiently and scowled at Jeanne. "You're a nice girl, Miss Peterson. That's a nice nightgown, filmy, but not so filmy it won't get by the censors. You got a nice figure and the country will love you. So why don't you be a nice model too?

"That ain't just a mattress you're on, Miss Peterson. How many times I gotta tell you that's the mattress you're waiting for Tom on? 'I miss Tom so, I'd never sleep, thinking of him so helpless and far away, the first Man in the Moon. Except for my Beautysleep mattress which induces sleep with its special inner-spring construction.' I ain't no copy-writer, Miss Peterson, but it will be something like that. So, cuddle up on that mattress like it will have to do till Tom comes home from the moon. Cuddle nice, Miss Peterson, cuddle nice."

It took Jeanne exactly fifty-five minutes longer before she could cuddle nice. They then took the picture in a matter of seconds, and Jeanne was allowed to change into her street clothes. Hurrying, she was only fifteen minutes late for her luncheon engagement with Lubrano.

"Three months," Lubrano said, after they'd settled themselves over cocktails. "Not bad, honey. Know how much we grossed, including the Beautysleep account?"

"Yes," Jeanne told him. "Twenty-eight thousand, three hundred and four dollars."

"Not bad," said Lubrano. "It takes the right kind of press, naturally. That's me, honey, the right kind of press."

"Yes," said Jeanne. "We're a good combination, Dan. You're right, it can't miss."

"Funny, you never sound excited about it."

"Maybe that's the way I am. I don't excite easily. So what?"

"So nothing." Lubrano began cutting his pork tenderloin.

"What's next on the agenda?" Jeanne wanted to know. "Maybe I lasso the moon with smoke rings blown from Buccaneer cigarettes?"

"Maybe you do eventually. Not right now. Right now you have to hop a plane for New Mexico and have a chat with the boyfriend."

"What?" Jeanne felt something flip-flop madly in the pit of her stomach. "Dan! Oh, Dan!"

"That's right, honey. Through the courtesy of 'Hands Across the Ocean,' sponsored by Cleopatra Complexion Soap. A radio broadcast across a quarter of a million miles of space to re-unite you and Tommy boy. At least, for three minutes."

"Oh, Dan, Dan—that's wonderful." Jeanne stood up, removed the napkin from her lap. "If I hurry home and pack I can make a night plane and be in New Mexico by—"

"Whoa. Relax, honey, there's no rush. The show is tomorrow night, 11 P.M. our time. I've booked your reservation for the morning."

"I'm too excited to eat, Dan. Really. But thanks for everything." Jeanne bent down as Lubrano prepared to attack his tenderloin again. She kissed his forehead playfully, turned to leave.

Someone snickered, "That's the moon girl, I think. I thought her boyfriend was way up there. Another cheap publicity stunt."

"Careful," Dan frowned. "So you're happy. Don't go around ruining everything."

Still smiling, Jeanne left.

"Sit down, Miss Peterson." The general waved Jeanne to a chair, half rose as she seated herself. "Frankly, these publicity things always make me nervous."

"You're nervous! Look who's talking!" Jeanne waited while the general lit a cigarette. "Only three minutes! I can hardly think what to say."

"Is that bothering you, Miss? Don't worry. They showed me a copy of the script."

"Script?"

"Script, yes. For tonight's program. Your part is all there, word for word."

"But I thought—"

"That it would be extemporaneous? I guess we're both new at this, Miss Peterson. I would have thought the same thing. But not with an audience of twenty million. That's what Mr. Pate said. Pate, he's the director of the show."

"But—but they can't do that. I want to talk to Tom. I want to tell him—things. I won't recite any prepared speech." How ridiculous could the whole situation become? Jeanne thought. She'd made a farce of their love these months. Now she wanted to forget that, make up for it at least in part by speaking to Tom, by pouring her heart out to him (as if she could even start to do that, in three minutes). If that fell through too.

"You'd better send for Mr. Pate."

"You don't understand. Mr. Pate's in charge, not me."

"Then—then I won't speak at all. Let him tell their audience that."

"What? Why, Miss, you can't do that. They expect you on the show and—"

"Send for Mr. Pate." Suddenly, she was glad Lubrano hadn't come out here with her. He naturally would have agreed with Mr. Pate.

The general picked up a phone on his desk, dialed. "Afternoon, Captain. Have you seen Pate? What? Splendid. Of course I'll wait." He cupped a well-manicured hand over the receiver. "They're looking for him, Miss ... Eh? Hello? Mr. Pate? I'm sorry to bother you, but—yes, important. I wish you could come to my office, whenever you ... Splendid. Splendid." The general hung up. "Be right here."

Ten minutes later, Pate arrived. He was young, florid of face, and looked like he'd soon have a bad case of high blood pressure if he didn't already have it. He waved a hand carelessly at the general. Too carelessly. Like he was a recently discharged enlisted man who felt he didn't have to bow and scrape any more.

"You're Jeanne. Recognize you anywhere. Like to tell your Tom he has good taste."

"Fine," said Jeanne. "Tell him anything you want. I'm not speaking."

"Ha, ha. Good joke."

"It's no joke, Mr. Pate. I won't recite any prepared speech. I absolutely refuse."

"Say that again. No, don't bother." Pate's brick-red face assumed the color of good claret wine. "Not ordinary, this. You probably thought we wouldn't reimburse you. Five thousand dollars all right?"

"Please, Mr. Pate. I came here to talk with Tom. I want to talk, not recite. Tear up your speech and I'll do it for nothing."

"Can't."

"Don't, then. Good-bye."

"Wait! General, can't you do something?"

"She's not under my jurisdiction. I told her you know your business and she was being—shall we say—something less than sensible."

"General! You never said anything like that. Don't you think I have a right to speak to my fiance?"

"There's something to what you both say." Now the general sounded like he was talking from a prepared speech. If it's a matter of publicity, never hurt anyone's feelings. Straddle that fence. Walk that tight-rope.

"Well, I'll be damned," said Pate. "Show's got to go on. Is that final, Miss Peterson?"

"You can bet your bottom dollar on it, as the expression goes." Jeanne almost felt like smiling, despite the situation.

"Don't say anything unprintable, then. Tear up your speech. We've got to. See you in two hours." Muttering a brief word or two, Pate left, not bothering to say good-bye to the general.

The general grinned professionally at Jeanne. "Any time I can be of further assistance...."

"Is this seat taken?"

Jeanne looked up from her third cup of coffee, which she'd been stirring nervously. She'd found a small restaurant outside the post's main gate.

"Why, no. Sit down, won't you?" Jeanne smiled at the girl who approached her.

"Th-thanks."

Kind of a plain type, Jeanne decided. Not pretty, though certainly not homely. Nice hair, if you liked it corn-silk color and long. Some men did, she supposed. "Cigarette?"

"I—I don't smoke, thank you. You—you're Jeanne Peterson. I recognized you. My name is Mary."

"Hello, Mary."

"Miss Peterson, I don't know how to begin. But I've got to talk to you. You're a stranger and—Miss Peterson, please. You've got to do something...."

"How can I help you if I don't know what you're talking about?" Jeanne almost felt like saying, sister, I've got problems of my own.

"It's Curt. Captain Curt Macomber. He's—maybe I shouldn't be telling you this. You won't say anything. I mean—"

"For gosh sakes, what do you mean?"

The girl sniffled.

"I'm sorry," said Jeanne. "Go ahead." Maybe she'd feel better herself if she heard someone else's problems.

"Curt is going—up there. To the—the moon. I still can hardly believe it. But they're sending him to join Captain Bentley. Tonight, at midnight."

"That's right, they did say something about sending a man to help Tom with whatever he's doing."

"Establishing a base, that's what. Curt told me. Curt said—he said he was going. He got two weeks of fast training and that's it. He told me the ship—the spaceship—worked automatically, anyway. Captain Bentley will brief him when he reaches the moon. Your Captain, Miss Peterson. But—but I'm so ashamed."

"Ashamed?" The whole thing sounded more and more like a soap opera to Jeanne every minute.

"Curt—Curt and I, we got married. In secret. His folks didn't approve and—well, that's not important. But I'm—I'm—well, I haven't told Curt. I'm going to have a baby. I can't tell him now, not when he's about to go further away than anyone. Miss Peterson, please don't tell anyone." More sniffles. "Please."

"Forget about it. But I don't see where I can help you."

The girl spoke again, a quick-rushing torrent of words. "You can speak to your captain and find out what it's like on the moon and discourage Curt, or maybe even tell Curt the truth, that I'm going to have a baby and then he'll understand he can't go. He doesn't have to go, he's a volunteer. I mean, he can change his mind, if he wants to, if you can make him...." The girl's voice trailed off plaintively.

Aunt Anna would be all for doing it, and then telling her friends the full details for the next five years or so. Pop would smoke his pipe and grunt something about it doing the boy good. Mom would say, "Whatever makes you happy, dear," and retreat to her kitchen. You could never predict Dan Lubrano. He might tell her to don a pair of football shoulderpads, tackle Captain Macomber and sit on him until the automatic spaceship blasted off for the moon. (Weller's football equipment, of course. Nothing but the best, nothing but a cash-on-the-line endorsement.)

"I'll do what I can," Jeanne said finally. "After the show, kid. Meanwhile, all you can do is take it easy. But I don't promise anything. Your Captain Macomber is a big boy now and probably, he'll make his own decisions."

The thought of a naive, innocent girl like the one sitting beside her falling into the publicity mill of another Dan Lubrano was almost horrifying.

"Yessir, ladies and gentlemen. Every week at this time we all get together and join hands across the ocean—in Cleopatra Facial Soap's famous human interest program, the show that tugs at your heart-strings as much as Cleopatra Facial Soap tugs at the grit and oil, removing them from the pores of your skin—'Hands Across the Ocean.'

"Each week, Cleopatra Facial Soap extends a helping hand to men and women everywhere. Submit your story to us, and if it is judged a winner, you will speak with your loved one over-seas—wherever he is, whatever he's doing—courtesy of Cleopatra."

Soon, across the distances that defied imagination, she would hear his voice—

"Your master of ceremonies, Laird Larsen. Here he is, ladies and gentlemen, the man whose voice all lovers know—Laird Larsen!"

"Hello, everybody, hello! Here we go again, in another Cleopatra attempt to make young lovers happy." Larsen, an unprepossessing man who spoke like Clem McCarthy, smiled mechanically. "This time, though, 'Hands Across the Ocean' makes an unprecedented leap. The Pacific Ocean is a goldfish bowl compared to the empty space between us and the moon. But Cleopatra Soap, in conjunction with the Amalgamated Broadcasting Network and the United States Air Force, will attempt to reach the moon tonight—by radio. Here with us is the lovely Jeanne Peterson, who...."

On and on he rambled. There was so much she wanted to tell Tom—

"... and on the moon, on the unthinkably remote moon, Captain Tom Bentley, alone on a wild, utterly unexplored frontier. More alone than any man has ever been before him. Lonely, perhaps a little terrified, although we feel our Captain Tom is made of sterner stuff...."

Our Captain Tom. All at once, it was sickening.

"Are you ready, Amalgamated? Very well."—appropriate tremble of the voice—"This is Cleopatra Soap, the planet Earth, calling Captain Tom Bentley on the moon. Cleopatra Soap and all its millions of listeners, calling the moon." Laird Larsen had picked up an unnecessarily complex microphone and was talking into it. "Earth and Cleopatra calling Moon. Do you hear me, Moon?"

But what could she tell him? "Just imagine what it will be like when Tom gets back here and speaks to the Women's League," said Aunt Anna. That? "They're liable to keep Tom on the moon a long time," said Pop. "Hm-hmm," said Jeanne, "some guy trying to make time because Tom's too far away to protest." That? "I wouldn't prostitute my emotional relationship with Tom for all the Women's Leagues in the country," Jeanne said. Very funny. Tell him that? Tell him about Dan Lubrano?

"Cleopatra calling the Moon. Come in, Moon. Do you hear me?" Laird Larsen mopped his brow. "By now the radio waves have reached the moon and returned, ladies and gentlemen. But still, no contact with Captain Bentley."

Why hadn't she agreed to use the prepared speech? If she talked to Tom now, everything would be a lie. Nothing real. Nothing. And, she told herself, this would be one more step toward cheapening whatever they had. Twenty million people would gawk while they spoke. Darling, I love you, I love you! Hooray!

"Hello, Captain Bentley."

"This is Bentley." Tom's voice, faint, from far, far away—but unmistakably Tom's. It made Jeanne feel weak all over.

"Captain Bentley, I have a surprise for you. I have—"

Off in the wings, Mr. Pate stood, mopping his brow. The general was at his side, beaming.

"Jeanne? Did you say Jeanne?" Tom's voice, weak, so distant.

"Of course, Captain, Courtesy of Cleopatra Soap, the facial soap that...."

Jeanne wished he'd choke on all the bars of Cleopatra Soap that had ever been manufactured.

"And here she is, ladies and gentlemen, America's number one sweetheart, Jeanne Peterson, about to bridge the gap of interplanetary space to chat with her lover."

Jeanne looked at the microphone and cringed. She walked forward, then paused. She stared once at Mr. Pate, still mopping his brow in the wings. Then she turned and fled, oblivious to the rising tide of voices behind her.

Almost midnight. If Tom hadn't spoken so often of the White Sands Air Force base, she never would have come in here, never found the little-used gate behind the barracks, where Captain Macomber would enter to avoid publicity, never have mentioned the right few words to the master sergeant at the gate-house. (If ever you need anything, darling, see Sergeant Reed. We were in Korea together.) Sergeant Reed had been reluctant at first, but then had understood....

She crouched behind the gate-house in darkness now and listened.

"But I tell you I'm Macomber!" the captain cried. "You've got to let me through. The ship's blasting off on automatic in a few minutes."

"Just show me your identification," Sergeant Reed said.

"I already—"

"Show it to me in the light where I can see it, Captain."

Jeanne ran down the runway that led past the little cement mounds of the observation turrets toward the needle-like shape which loomed up in the glare of a single floodlight. She had checked her wrist watch with Sergeant Reed's. Four minutes to midnight. Reed would delay Captain Macomber long enough. It was only a matter of minutes now. The sergeant would get a blistering chewing out, but could claim he'd only been doing what he thought was his duty.

He told me the spaceship worked automatically, the girl in the restaurant had said.

The spaceship's airlock was not secured. There was no reason to secure it. Jeanne found Macomber's pressure suit and with two handfuls of thumbs buckled it on herself. Footsteps pounded along the runway as she slammed the airlock door.

Seconds now. Less than seconds—

The last thing she told herself with a happy little smile, an instant before she blasted off in the second lunar ship, was that the Man in the Moon would get a real surprise in a little while.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY SWEETHEART'S THE MAN IN THE MOON ***

Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the United States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country other than the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg™ License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided that:

- • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”

- • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works.

- • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work.

- • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™

Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.

The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate.

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate.

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

Most people start at our website which has the main PG search facility: www.gutenberg.org.

This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.

Table of Contents

My sweetheart's the Man in the Moon

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE