There was absolute silence now in the Presidential study. All eyes were riveted on the TV screen as the small glass object, with its booster-rockets firing, slid smoothly up behind the giant Space Hotel.
‘They’re going to link up!’ shouted the President. ‘They’re going on board our Space Hotel!’
‘They’re going to blow it up!’ cried the Chief of the Army. ‘Let’s blow them up first, crash bang wallop bang-bang-bang-bang.’ The Chief of the Army was wearing so many medal-ribbons they covered the entire front of his tunic on both sides and spread down on to his trousers as well. ‘Come on, Mr P.,’ he said. ‘Let’s have some really super-duper explosions!’
‘Silence, you silly boy!’ said Miss Tibbs, and the Chief of the Army slunk into a corner.
‘Listen,’ said the President. ‘The point is this. Who are they? And where do they come from? Where’s my Chief Spy?’
‘Here, sir, Mr President, sir!’ said the Chief Spy.
He had a false moustache, a false beard, false eyelashes, false teeth and a falsetto voice.
‘Knock-Knock,’ said the President.
‘Who’s there?’ said the Chief Spy.
‘Courteney.’
‘Courteney who?’
‘Courteney one yet?’ said the President.
There was a brief silence. ‘The President asked you a question,’ said Miss Tibbs in an icy voice. ‘Have you Courteney one yet?’
‘No, ma’am, not yet,’ said the Chief Spy, beginning to twitch.
‘Well, here’s your chance,’ snarled Miss Tibbs.
‘Quite right,’ said the President. ‘Tell me immediately who those people are in that glass capsule!’
‘Ah-ha,’ said the Chief Spy, twirling his false moustache. ‘That is a very difficult question.’
‘You mean you don’t know?’
‘I mean I do know, Mr President. At least I think I know. Listen. We have just launched the finest hotel in the world. Right?’
‘Right!’
‘And who is so madly jealous of this wonderful hotel of ours that he wants to blow it up?’
‘Miss Tibbs,’ said the President.
‘Wrong,’ said the Chief Spy. ‘Try again.’
‘Well,’ said the President, thinking deeply. ‘In that case, could it not perhaps be some other hotel owner who is envious of our lovely hotel?’
‘Brilliant!’ cried the Chief Spy. ‘Go on, sir! You’re getting warm!’
‘It’s Mr Savoy!’ said the President.
‘Warmer and warmer, Mr President!’
‘Mr Ritz!’
‘You’re hot, sir! You’re boiling hot! Go on!’
‘I’ve got it!’ cried the President. ‘It’s Mr Hilton!’
‘Well done, sir!’ said the Chief Spy.
‘Are you sure it’s him?’
‘Not sure, but it’s certainly a warm possibility, Mr President. After all, Mr Hilton’s got hotels in just about every country in the world but he hasn’t got one in space. And we have. He must be madder than a maggot!’
‘By gum, we’ll soon fix this!’ snapped the President, grabbing one of the eleven telephones on his desk. ‘Hello!’ he said into the phone. ‘Hello hello hello! Where’s the operator?’ He jiggled furiously on the little thing you jiggle when you want the operator. ‘Operator, where are you?’
‘They won’t answer you now,’ said Miss Tibbs. ‘They’re all watching television.’
‘Well, this one’ll answer!’ said the President, snatching up a bright red telephone. This was the hot line direct to the Premier of Soviet Russia in Moscow. It was always open and only used in terrible emergencies. ‘It’s just as likely to be the Russians as Mr Hilton,’ the President went on. ‘Don’t you agree, Nanny?’
‘It’s bound to be the Russians,’ said Miss Tibbs.
‘Premier Yugetoff speaking,’ said the voice from Moscow. ‘What’s on your mind, Mr President?’
‘Knock-Knock,’ said the President.
‘Who’s there?’ said the Soviet Premier.
‘Warren.’
‘Warren who?’
‘Warren Peace by Leo Tolstoy,’ said the President. ‘Now see here, Yugetoff! You get those astronauts of yours off that Space Hotel of ours this instant! Otherwise, I’m afraid we’re going to have to show you just where you get off, Yugetoff!’
‘Those astronauts are not Russians, Mr President.’
‘He’s lying,’ said Miss Tibbs.
‘You’re lying,’ said the President.
‘Not lying, sir,’ said Premier Yugetoff. ‘Have you looked closely at those astronauts in the glass box? I myself cannot see them too clearly on my TV screen, but one of them, the little one with the pointed beard and the top hat, has a distinctly Chinese look about him. In fact, he reminds me very much of my friend the Prime Minister of China . . .’