Slim felt the doors of the new, private world closing on him and astronomy became a thing of dead stars and black, empty space.
He said, placatingly, “A circus would be more fun.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, I’m not. I mean it.”
Red grew argumentative. “Suppose you had a chance to join the circus right now. What would you do?”
“I—I—”
“See!” Red affected scornful laughter.
Slim was stung. “I’d join up.”
“Go on.”
“Try me.”
Red whirled at him, strange and intense. “You meant that? You want to go in with me?”
“What do you mean?” Slim stepped back a bit, surprised by the unexpected challenge.
“I got something that can get us into the circus. Maybe someday we can even have a circus of our own. We could be the biggest circus-fellows in the world. That’s if you want to go in with me. Otherwise—Well, I guess I can do it on my own. I just thought: Let’s give good old Slim a chance.”
The world was strange and glamorous, and Slim said, “Sure thing, Red. I’m in! What is it, huh, Red? Tell me what it is.”
“Figure it out. What’s the most important thing in circuses?”