"Let's hear some more about it," Young said enthusiastically, suddenly recovering from his reverie.
"Oh, there isn't much more," I said indifferently. "We plan to stay at the Redsands hotel in Marsport—American plan. Take in Marsport, with maybe a side trip to Crystallite. If we have time we might even take a waterway cruise to the North Pole...."
I broke off and dug Donley in the ribs.
"Man, you never fished until you have a Martian flying fish at the end of the line!" I grabbed a ruler off the desk and began using it as an imaginary rod and reel. "Talk about fight ... oh, sorry, Mac." My ruler had amputated part of a floppy lettuce leaf that hung from McCleary's sandwich.
I settled down in my chair again and started paying attention to my lunch. "Nothing like it," I added between mouthfuls of liverwurst.
"How about entertainment?" Young winked slyly.
"Well, you know—the wife will be along," I said. "But some of the places near the Grand Canal—and those Martian Mist Maidens! Brother, if I was unattached...."
"There ain't any life on Mars," McCleary said, suspicious again.
All three of us looked at him in shocked silence.