"Please, now—now we have a landing to make first. Will you come with me, Doctor Darnow?"
Darnow was from Historical Bureau, and was the titular head of the whole expedition, although no one paid him much attention. He was a sparrowy, elderly man who babbled excitedly as he went with Kellon to the bridge.
He at least, was sincere in his interest, Kellon thought. For that matter, so were all the dozen-odd scientists who were aboard. But they were far out-numbered by the fat cats and big brass out for publicity, the professional enthusers and sentimentalist. A real hell of a job the Survey had given him!
In the bridge, he glanced through the window at the dun-colored planet and its satellite. Then he asked Darnow, "You said something about a particular place where you wanted to land?"
The historiographer bobbed his head, and began unfolding a big, old-fashioned chart.
"See this continent here? Along its eastern coast were a lot of the biggest cities, like New York."
Kellon remembered that name, he'd learned it in school history, a long time ago.
Darnow's finger stabbed the chart. "If you could land there, right on the island—"
Kellon studied the relief features, then shook his head. "Too low. There'll be great tides as time goes on and we can't take chances. That higher ground back inland a bit should be all right, though."
Darnow looked disappointed. "Well, I suppose you're right."