"Safe as helicoplers," the octoroon assured him. They climbed into the machine and started off at once. At ten thirty-four they landed on the roof of the Santa Fé Post Offiee; at ten thirty-seven Bernard had got through to the World Controller's Office in Whitehall; at ten thirty-seven he was speaking to his fordship's fourth personal secretary; at ten forty-four he was repeating his story to the first secretary, and at ten forty-seven and a half it was the deep, resonant voice of Mustapha Mond himself that sounded in his ears.