At the rocket camp each Martian rocket was waited anxiously, with the hope it would bring some new pay load. But the rockets never brought anything but seeds ... more Martian lily seeds.
Jimmy stirred restlessly, opened his eyes and looked out the vision plate. But there was no terror in his eyes, no surprise nor regret.
"Space?" he asked.
Scott nodded.
"We're going to the Moon?"
"To the Moon first," said Scott. "From there we go to Mars."
Jimmy lapsed into silence. There was no change upon his face. There never was any change upon his face.
I hope he doesn't make any trouble, Scott told himself. It was bad enough just to have him along. Bad enough to have this added responsibility.
For space flight was a dangerous job. Ever since the International Mars Communication Center had been formed, with Alexander in charge, space had flung men aside. Ship after ship, pilot after pilot. The task, alone, of reaching the Moon had taken terrible toll.