The office had appeared as if by magic. One day the suite of rooms was empty, the next day furniture was being moved in. The third day the office was open for business.

A sign painter was busy lettering the front door as Markham passed it on his way to his own modest office.

He read the words that had been painted on the door.

GENERAL TICKET OFFICE

Tickets here for LUNA, MARS, VENUS

Perhaps nothing that could have happened, short of death itself, would have hit him harder than these three words lettered on the door: LUNA. MARS. VENUS.

According to the information discreetly conveyed by the lettering on this door, they were selling tickets to the planets right here in this office, just as, down on the first floor, they were selling airline tickets to Europe, Asia, and the islands of the far seas.

This—in 1951!

Markham was sure space travel was net yet possible. Then how could this unknown travel agency dare sell tickets to other planets?

John McCarthy