The mission, the secret has been compromised. Â Our own expedition was a success in as much as our craft — a lightweight, one-man, helium-propelled bicycle of an aircraft — returned to base. Â What none of us had banked on was that we would be pursued by a friend. Â (M.F., was that you?) Â His craft however, was not so provident. Â Our intelligence reports tell us that he chased after us, that he out-performed us in the air, that he then went off the radar and never came back. Â As the pilot, I am angered and shamed; as his friend I am saddened and confused. Â Intelligence tells us that he had been coerced by Communists. Â So many plausible explanations, so little time to find him. Â We spring immediately to action. Â Our evidence leads us to an elementary school. Â We question the teachers, the students, we study the equations scribbled on the math class’ chalkboard. Â Where could he have gone?