Wandering through the monstrous writhing stone catastrophes of the Neezian asteroid belt, the Ternian hopper -- larger by several times than the scoutship that had first detected the Enterprise -- dodged and curved, flickering through the dappling shadows of the ancient sun. Finally it came to rest on the broad, cold, scarred back of a stone leviathan roughly the size of the legendary City of Ann O'Heim, whose memories are still revered throughout the keepers of Fantasyland's storied past...a rock large enough to modify the face of California. The freight bays on the hopper opened and a number of Ternian men and women in space suits started a bustling order of high-speed activity all across the surface of the giant asteroid. Drills and flaming torches were brought to bear, changing the face of the spaceworn rock. Here, men wielding giant jackhammers tore huge curves into the face of the rock. There, drillers honeycombed the interior spaces with long thin channels ; officers with blueprints scrambled, leaping ridiculously in the low gravity, trying to land with grace, and humming snatches of their favorite ancient songs.

Ho, bo's, can'cha line em!?? HUH!
Ho, boys, linin' down that track!
Ho bo's, can'cha line'em!?? HUH!
See wha' the bo's laid on that line!!

and, from anothe rquadrant of the great gray surface,

Drill, tarriers, drill!
Fer ye'll work all day for the sugar in yer tay
Down behind the rail way,
And drill ye tarriers, drill!
And blast!!
And fire!!...

And drill, blast and fire they did, while the far Neezian sun swung far to one end of their horizon and back, and the twin moons on the other side rose and fell in tandem, through the time of five Ternian days and nights. The space around the gigantic rock was littered with broken rock, the refuse of their huge operation. The asteroids mighty interior, once a solid mass of chill granite, was now a honeycomb of this passages lined with strange devices.

AGain, the agent known as Cornucopia brought his small scoutship to the dangerous currents of the asteroid belt, landing gently on a flat cleared area near the freight hopper. He stepped out and consulted a large pad of intricate calculations he had brought from the labs. He conferred with engineers, scientists, experts in every aspect of Ternian knowledge, and watched as the tired crew planted long log-like charges into several of the new tunnels marking the rock's surface.

He shook hands with the lead technicians and the senior engineers, nodded in agreement that all was ready, and returned to his scout craft, relocating it several miles away from the surface. From there he had to admit, the work was beautiful.

In the sharp light of Neezie, the newly carved front of the gigantic rock flowed on gracefull measured curves where once random harsh rockfaces had been. Here a large, rounded extension of a mouse-ear -- there, another -- between them the large fatuous, staring eyes carefully carved in low-relief -- and there to one side, the raised, three-fingered hand in its insipid wave of eternal happiness was perfectly rendered.

As he watched the freight hopper, tools and personnel again on board, move gently past him on course to return to Tern, tCornucopia shook his head in awe. It was a perfect mouse, he thought. The Eisnerians will love it.

He made some last-minute calculations and set several polished wooden switches on his control panel, and waited while the timing circuits counted the microseconds. There was a sudden glow from the back of the gigantic carving, and a burst of gigantic waves of energy began pulsing and spewing from the asteroids stern. The enormous rock hung in space momentarily, slower than the slowest oil tanker answering a helm command; then, slightly, and then dramatically, it moved, steering outward from the fringes of the belt, accelerating constantly now, the gigantic charged tubes pouring out terajoules of concentrated thrust, coordinated by micro-thrusts from smaller tubes around the giant rock's backside. Faster and faster, the greatest Mickey ever made by the hand of man, the largest gift ever offered in human history, began its graceful trans-system flight to the far-off twinkle of the Solarian system.

The agent tapped his communicator, knowing the watch in the Lomaxion center would be anxious to hear his report.

"Cornucopia in," he said softly; "Cross your fingers for Plan Two!"