I sighed softly, acting disgusted at having to deal with somebody as stupid as McCleary. "Mac, that's the government and besides they're dealing with military rockets. And did you ever hear of the government perfecting something before private industry? Who perfected the telephone, the radio, television? The government? No, private industry, of course! Private industry has always been ahead of the government on everything, including rockets. Get on the stick, Mac."
McCleary started in on his lettuce leaf again, looking very shrewd.
"How come I never heard of it before now?" he asked, springing the clincher argument.
"Look, Mac, this is relatively new. The company's just starting, can't afford to take full-page ads and that sort of thing. Just give 'em time, that's all. Why, a couple of years from now you'll be spending your vacation on Venus or Jupiter or some place like that. From now on California and the Bahamas will be strictly old hat."
McCleary looked half-believing.
"Where'd you get your tickets?"
I waved vaguely in the direction of downtown. "Oh, there must be at least a couple of agencies downtown. Might even be able to find them in the phone book. Look under Interplanetary Rocket Lines or something like that. You might have a little difficulty, of course. Like I say, they're not too well advertised."
McCleary was about to say something more, but then the one o'clock bell rang and we went back to the office grind.
Well, McCleary didn't say anything more about it the next day, even though we'd throw in a chance comment about Mars every now and then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, but Mac didn't rise to the bait. We gradually forgot about it.