"What kind of dreams?"
Someone laughed.
"Just fantastic stuff. Ask your Pavlovian there," Bruce said. "People talk to me, and there are other things in the dreams. Voices and some kind of shapes that aren't what you would call human at all."
Someone coughed. There was obvious embarrassment in the room.
"It's peculiar, but many faces and voices are those of crew members of some of the ships out there, the ones that never got back to Earth."
Terrence grinned. "Ghosts, Bruce?"
"Maybe. This planet may not be a dead ball of clay. I've had a feeling there's something real in the dreams, but I can't figure it out. You're still interested?"
Terrence nodded and glanced to either side.
"We've seen no indication of any kind of life whatsoever," Bruce pointed out. "Not even an insect, or any kind of plant life except some fungi and lichen down in the crevices. That never seemed logical to me from the start. We've covered the planet everywhere except one place—"
"The mountain," Terrence said. "You've been afraid even to talk about scaling it."