Greg tried desperately to find an illegal method of joining his family on Mars; for the law said that no healthy man could land on a—
CANCER WORLD
By
Harry Warner, Jr.
"We won the Patagonian trust case," Greg Marson's jubilant tones filled the apartment—the hall in which he stood, the automatic kitchen in the rear, the living quarters, bedroom and nursery in between.
But no one replied. Greg let his bulging, expensive briefcase slip to the floor, strode through the empty hall, poked his head into the kitchen, then entered the nursery.
Dennis dashed to his father on two-year-old legs, and baby Phyllis gurgled twice in her pen. Greg wrinkled his nose in puzzlement, then punched the babyviewer.
"You can cut service," he told the girl whose blonde head appeared on the screen.