"Yes, just keep going. Hey, I believe with that system we could each work alone, so I'll make two sets."
Jak thought all this over swiftly for several minutes, working fork and knife and jaws meanwhile. Finally, between mouthfuls, he said slowly, "I can't see a flaw in it—as long as we're mighty careful. Do you think it'll pass inspection?"
"If we take our time and make sure we're right, I don't see why not."
"What're you boys talking about now?" Their mother set a refilled dish of steaming Chlorella stew on the table, and resumed her own seat.
They explained, and told her the necessity of what they had to do in order to prove up their father's claim on this system, when they returned to Terra and appeared before the Colonial Board with their proofs of prime discovery.
The worried look came back into her eyes. "I always understood that surveying was a mighty exact profession. Do you really think you can measure it exactly enough to take the place of a regular survey?"
"I think we can make it close enough so that when Pop wakes up and shows us how to do the final survey with the instruments, we can save a lot of time, at least," Jon assured her. "That's what we're thinking and planning about now."
"You see, Mother," Jak broke in, "if we have the stakes all set, all we'll have to do is to make the sights on each one, after Father teaches us how to use the transit. Then, if we should be off anywhere, we can fix them easily."
"Yes, it'll cut down the time a lot," Jon went on, "and now we're so near done, I want to get everything finished so we can go back to Terra immejit."
"Why? Getting homesick?" his mother teased.