Probably, she thought, much like the moment when the doctor, an absurdly young man, had told her, in cool, compassionate terms, that she had such a short time left to live.

If it had been me, would I have had the strength to act as Henry has done? To communicate, to risk mockery and ridicule?

After all, she wouldn’t live to see the end, whatever happened.

There is no hope. Yet we must act as if there is.

Yet there was still something in Henry’s manner she didn’t understand. Something he didn’t want to tell them.

Or something he wanted to achieve.

She said, “Dr Meacher, give us your third recommendation.”

“We need to go back to the Moon. To Aristarchus, where Jays Malone picked up that rock.”

The Admiral frowned. “Why?”

Because the Moon is the key, thought Monica. That’s the centre of his case.

Henry said, “We have the question Professor Petit raised. We know the Moon is infected with Moonseed — but the Moon hasn’t been destroyed. Why not? We’ve learned all we can here. Something on the Moon must be inhibiting the Moonseed. We have to understand what.”

Monica watched him. This is what he wants, she realized, on some deep intuitive level. The Moon mission. This is what he’s seeking from us, today.

But, she sensed, there’s something he wants to achieve up there beyond what he’s telling us.

But he fears ridicule, obstruction, if he tells us about it…

“I agree,” she said immediately.

Henry looked at her, surprised. He said, “We have to go quickly. While we still can. Before we’re overwhelmed. It may be in a few months we won’t be capable of mounting a Moon mission, whether we want to or not.”

The Admiral nodded. “How the hell? I thought we smashed up all the Moon rockets, or put them in museums.”

“We did,” Henry said. “But NASA has a way.”

Monica said softly, “When can you leave?”

He looked startled. “Me?”

“Who else?”

“Dr Beus, I’m a rock hound, not an astronaut.”

“Difficult times,” the Admiral said. “We all have to think out of the box, Dr Meacher.”

Henry subsided, looking confused, calculating. But he leaned forward again. “There’s something else.”

“What?” the Admiral said.

“Weapons. We need to take weapons.”

Petit gasped. “You can’t be serious.”

The Admiral considered. “I suppose the premium will be on compactness, lightness. A battlefield nuke, maybe. Lasers—”