"That's all right," I said. "My dad and mother came out to the hospital to see me when I first got back." He was a big, fine-looking important sort of man, with a little bit of the stuffed shirt about him, I thought. He seemed friendly enough, but I got the feeling he was looking at me and wondering why I'd come back and his son Walter hadn't. Well, I couldn't blame him for that.
His car was waiting, a big car with a driver, and we started north through the city. Mr, Millis pointed out a few things to me to make conversation, especially a big atomic- power station we passed.
"It's only one of thousands, strung all over the world," he said. "They're going to transform our whole economy. This Martian uranium will be a big thing, Sergeant." I said, yes, I guessed it would.
I was sweating blood, waiting for him to start asking about Walter, and I didn't know yet just what I could tell him. I could get myself in Dutch plenty if I opened my big mouth too wide, for that one thing that had happened to Expedition Two was supposed to be strictly secret, and we'd all been briefed on why we had to keep our mouths shut.
But he let it go for the time being, and just talked other stuff. I gathered that his wife wasn't too well, and that Wal- ter had been their only child. I also gathered that he was a very big shot in business, and dough-heavy. I didn't like him, Walter I'd liked plenty, but his old man seemed a pretty pompous person, with his heavy busi- ness talk.
He wanted to know how soon I thought Martian ura- nium would come through in quantity, and I said I didn't think it'd be very soon.
"Expedition One only located the deposits," I said, "and Two just did mapping and setting up a preliminary base. Of course, the thing keeps ex~nding, and I hear Four will have a hundred rockets. But Mars is a tough setup." Mr. Millis said decisively that I was wrong, that the world was power-hungry, that it would be pushed a lot faster than I expected.
He suddenly quit talking business and looked at me and asked, "Who was Walter's best friend out there?" He asked it sort of apologetically. He was a stuffed shirt; but all my dislike of him went away then.
"Breck Jergen," I told him. "Breck was our sergeant. He sort of held our squad together, and he and Walter cottoned to each other from the first."
Mr. Millis nodded, but didn't say anything more about it. He pointed out the window at the distant lake and said we were almost to his home.