"Pals-schmals, this is official business. Why don't you go up to the
bridge and see who's driving? That ought to make a dandy feature."
"Continental's doing that on tape. They're going to fill me in later."
"What's the Voice doing?"
"Rehashing the AP and Reuters," Stew said disgustedly. "I tell you,
this being subsidized is for the birds. You're further away from the
news than anybody else."
"True," I said. "And if I were still with WW I'd complain."
"Yeah? To who?"
"To the Presidential Press Secretary, for instance."
"That's you. A big help you are."
"Them's the conditions that prevail."
"Funny man," Stew said. "Jimmy Durante."
There was a knock on my door and Joy Linx came in.
"Hello, men," she said. "How are the old space voyagers?"
"Nuts," Stew said. "I've had bigger thrills on the Staten Island ferry."
"Sam, I've got the radioteletype set up for the communiqué. Want to
check it out?"
"Sure." We all went into her office-cabin.
"Just the one machine," Joy said. "The press ship is tuned in and drop
copies go to WW, Continental and the Voice here."
"Fine." I sat down and typed: