“… real pleasure to welcome you, Tyrrans,” said the President, almost done with his speech. “I wish you a fine year on Earth!”
Before him on the White House lawn, with newspaper and TV reporters all about, sat the Lambchops and, in a tiny grandstand built especially for the occasion, the people of Tyrra.
The Tyrrans were now applauding politely, but they looked nervous, and Mrs. Lambchop guessed why. That crowd at the Space Center for the Star Scout’s landing, that drive through crowded streets into Washington, D.C.! Poor Tyrrans! Everywhere they looked, giant buildings, giant people. How could they feel comfortable here?
But a surprise was in store. Across the lawn, a great white sheet had been spread. Now, at the President’s signal, workmen pulled the sheet away.
“Welcome,” said the President, “to TyrraVille Two!”
Gasps rose from the Tyrrans, then shouts of joy.
Before them, on what had been the White House tennis court, lay an entire village of tiny houses, one for each Tyrran family, with shops and schools and churches, and a miniature railway serving all principal streets. Begun when Stanley called ahead from space, TyrraVille Two had been completed well before the Star Scout’s arrival, thanks to rush deliveries from leading toy stores in Washington and New York.
The excited Tyrrans ran from the grandstand to explore their new homes, and soon happy voices rose from every window and doorway of TyrraVille Two. “Nice furniture!” … “Hooray! Fresh lemonade! No more Fizzola!” … “In the cupboards, see? Shirts, dresses, suits, shoes!” … “Underwear, even!”
The Ots, General Ap, Dr. Ep, and Captain Ik came back to say good-bye, and the Lambchops knelt to touch fingertips in farewell. The TV men filmed this, and Arthur made everyone laugh, pretending to be paralyzed by the touch of Captain Ik. Then the newsmen left, the Tyrrans returned to TyrraVille Two, and only the President remained with the Lambchops on the White House lawn.
“Well, back to work.” The President sighed. “Good-bye, Lambchops. You’re all heroes, you know. Saved the nation.”
“Not really,” Stanley said. “They couldn’t have conquered us.”
“Well, you know what I mean,” the President said. “You folks care to stay for supper?”
“Thank you, no,” Mrs. Lambchop said. “It is quite late, and this has been an exciting but very tiring day.”
It was bedtime when they got home. Stanley and Arthur had a light supper, with hot chocolate to help them sleep, after which Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop tucked them in and said good night.
The brothers lay quietly in the darkness for a moment. Then Arthur chuckled.
“The Magno-Titanic Paralyzer was sort of scary,” he said. “You were brave, Stanley, protecting me.”
“That’s okay,” Stanley said. “You’re my brother, right?”
“I know …” Arthur was sleepy now. “Stanley? When the Tyrrans go back, will their land and water be okay? Will they let us know?”
“I guess so.” Stanley was drowsy too. “Good night, Arthur.”
“Good night,” said Arthur, and soon they were both asleep.
And in time, from the great farness of space, but a farness no longer strange or unknown, another message came.
“We are home. All is well.”
And again.
“We are home! Thank you, Earth! All is well!”
The End