 Why do people keep asking Hank what he saw?
The first man to return from beyond the Great Frontier may be welcomed ... but will it be as a curiosity, rather than as a hero...? There was the usual welcoming crowd for a celebrity, and the usual speeches by the usual politicians who met him at the airport which had once been twenty miles outside of Croton, but which the growing city had since engulfed and placed well within its boundaries. Still, he was the honored home-comer, the successful returnee, the hometown boy who had made good in a big way, and they took the triumphal tour up Main Street to the new square and the grandstand. There he sat between the mayor and a nervous young coed chosen as homecoming queen, and looked out at the police and fire department bands, the National Guard, the boy scouts and girl scouts, the Elks and Masons. Several of the churches in town had shown indecision as to how to instruct their parishioners to treat him. The tremendous national interest, the fact that he was the First One, had made them come around. He had traveled and he had returned and his voyage was very much like the voyages of the great mariners, from Columbus onward—long, dull periods of time passing, passing, and then the arrival. The head of the American Legion and the chief of police, who had escorted him on this trip from the square, didn't ask to go in with him. But when he looked back at them, their eyes dropped, they turned away, they began moving off. They held onto each other as if seeking mutual support, the thirty-three-year old woman and ten-year-old boy. So he put him down and told himself that it would all change, that everything would loosen up just as his commanding officer, General Carlisle, had said it would early this morning before he left Washington. Carlisle had said his position was analogous to Columbus', to Vasco De Gama's, to Preshoff's when the Russian returned from the Moon—but more so. It was like looking into the mirror and seeing himself twenty-five years ago. They had feared for him, having read of the many launchings gone wrong even in continent-to-continent experimental flight. But now they should be rejoicing, because he had survived and made the long journey. Without waiting for an answer, he waved his hand—it shook; a ten-year-old boy's hand that shook—and ran from the room and from the house.
 Hank was dead for months. People want to know about the afterlife.
 Hank was dead for months. People want to know about the afterlife.  Hank was on the moon for months. People want to know what life was like there.  Hank was dead for months. People want to know which religion got it right.  Hank was out in space for months. People want to know what he saw on Mars.