She was wobbling the gun around. "But, Brother, I've never shot anybody!"

"Well, you can if you have to."

"I guess so."

"Nothing to it. Just point it at 'em and press the button. Better use both hands. And don't shoot unless you really need to."

"All right."

I smacked her behind. "Now get going. See you later."

And I got going. I looked behind once, but she was already vanished in the smog. I put a little distance between me and the house, just in case, then concentrated on approximating course west.

And I got lost. That's all. I needed that tracker but I had figured I could get along without it and Pod had to have it. I got hopelessly lost. There wasn't breeze enough for me to tell anything by wetting my finger and that polarized light trick for finding the Sun is harder than you would think. Hours after I should have reached the ring road I was still skirting boggy places and open water and trying to keep from being somebody's lunch.

And suddenly there was the most dazzling light possible and I went down flat and stayed there with my eyes buried in my arm and started to count.

I wasn't hurt at all. The blast wave covered me with mud and the noise was pretty rough but I was well outside the real trouble. Maybe half an hour later I was picked up by a cop car.

Certainly, I should have disarmed that bomb. I had intended to, if everything went well; it was just meant to be a "Samson in the Temple" stunt if things turned out dry. A last resort.

Maybe I should have stopped to disarm it as soon as I broke old Gruesome's neck-and maybe Jojo would have caught both of us if I had and him still with a happy-dust hangover. Anyhow I didn't and then I was very busy shooting Jojo and deciding what to do and telling Poddy how to use that gun and getting her started. I didn't think •bout the bomb until I was several hundred meters from I he house-and I certainly didn't want to go back then, even if I could have found it again in the smog, which is doubtful.

But apparently Poddy did just that. Went back to the house, I mean. She was found later that day, about a kilometer from the house, outside the circle of total de-Mruction-but caught by the blast.

With a live baby fairy in her arms-her body had protected it; it doesn't appear to have been hurt at all.

That's why I think she went back to the house. I don't know that this baby fairy is the one she called "Ariel." It might have been one that she picked up in the bush.

But that doesn't seem at all likely; a wild one would have clawed her and its parents would have torn her to pieces.

I think she intended to save that baby fairy all along and decided not to mention it to me. It is just the kind of sentimental stunt that Poddy would do. She knew I was going to have to kill the adult-and she never said a word against that; Pod could always be sensible wheni absolutely necessary.

Then in the excitement of breaking out she forgot to I grab it, just as I forgot to disarm the bomb after we no I longer needed it. So she went back for it.

And lost the inertial tracker, somehow. At least it; wasn't found on her or near her. Between the gun and her purse and the baby fairy and the tracker she must have dropped it in a bog. Must be, because she had plenty of time to go back and still get far away from the house. She should have been ten kilometers away by then, so she must have lost the tracker fairly soon and walked in a circle.

I told Uncle Tom all about it and was ready to tell the Corporation people, Mr. Cunha and so forth, and take my medicine. But Uncle told me to keep my mouth shut. He agreed that I had fubbed it, mighty dry indeed-but so had he-and so had everybody. He was gentle with me. I wish he had hit me.

I'm sorry about Poddy. She gave me some trouble from time to time, with her bossy ways and her illogical ideas -- but just the same I'm sorry.

I wish I knew how to cry.

Her little recorder was still in her purse and part of the tape could be read. Doesn't mean much, though; she doesn't tell what she did, she was babbling, sort of:

" -- very dark where I'm going. No man is an island, complete in himself. Remember that, Clarfcie. Oh, I'm sorry I fubbed it but remember that; it's important. They all have to be cuddled sometimes. My shoulder -- Saint Podkayne! Saint Podkayne, are you listening? UnkaTom,

Mother, Daddy-is anybody listening? Do listen, please, because this is important. I love -- "

It cuts off there. So we don't know whom she loved.

Everybody maybe.

Mr. Cunha made them hold the Tricorn and now Uncle Tom and I are on our way again. The baby fairy is still alive and Dr. Torland says it doesn't have radiation sickness. I call it "Ariel" and I guess I'll be taking care of it a long time; they say these fairies live as long as we do. It is taking to shipboard life all right but it gets lonely and has to be held and cuddled or it cries.

APPENDIX C

HEINLEIN RETROSPECTIVE OCTOBER 6, 1988

Trip report-October 30, 1988

On the evening of October 6, 1988, I received on Robert's behalf, the NASA Distinguished Public Service Medal, following a small dinner party given that evening. There were approximately 700 people present for the ceremony, and the presentation was made by Dr. Noel Hinners, Associate Deputy Administrator (Institution) of NASA.

The Description and Criteria of NASA Honor Awards reads: "NASA Distinguished Public Service Medal (DPSM) is granted to any individual who is not an employee of the Federal Government or was not an employee during the period in which the service was performed. The award is granted only to individuals whose meritorious contributions produced results which measurably improved, expedited, or clarified administrative procedures, scientific progress, work methods, manufacturing techniques, personnel practices, public information service, and other efforts related to the accomplishment of the mission of NASA."

The citation itself reads:

The National Aeronautics and Space Administration Awards to

ROBERT ANSON HEINLEIN the

NASA-DISTINGUISHED PUBLIC SERVICE MEDAL

In recognition of his meritorious service to the Nation and mankind in advocating and promoting the exploration of space. Through dozens of superbly written novels and essays and his epoch-making movie Destination Moon, he helped inspire the Nation to take its first step into space and on to the moon. Even after his death, his books live on as testimony to a man of purpose and vision, a man dedicated to encouraging others to dream, explore, and achieve.

Signed and sealed at Washington, D.C. this sixth day of October

Nineteen Hundred and Eighty-Eight.

/s/James C. Fletcher

Administrator, NASA.

The medal itself can be described as a sunburst, with a globe in the center, on a ribbon with a wide center strip in navy blue, with two lighter blue stripes on the sides, and a golden strip in the center of the lighter blue. There are two buttonhole ornaments to be worn with civilian dress; one is a copy of the medal, the other a dark blue button, with the gold and light blue used as a sunburst on that background. (I've seen Croix de Guerre holders use those ribbon buttonhole ornaments on their lapels.)

After thanking Dr. Hinners for the honor, I used Robert's "This I Believe" credo for my talk. I had tried to write a speech, then remembered this talk of Robert's and thought it would be appropriate for this occasion. So I sent the record to Ward Botsford in New York, and he put it onto tape for me. Transcribed, it is below. (Ward told me that it was lucky I had not tried to tape it myself, as it might have ruined the only copy in existence, I believe.)

I told the audience how this particular piece of writing had come into being, and that it seemed to me to be appropriate to this occasion, and I had consulted several people about my feeling, and they had said --"Go ahead. It's the perfect thing to do."