McLaren said, "I vote to settle."
Harker laughed. He was leaning by the cabin port, looking out at the cliffs. The grey granite looked clean above the swamp. Harker tried to pierce the clouds that hid the top, but couldn't. His dark eyes narrowed. The heated voices behind him faded into distance. Suddenly he turned and said, "Sir, I'd like permission to see what's at the top of those cliffs."
There was complete silence. Then Gibbons said slowly, "We've lost too many men on journeys like that before, only to find the plateau uninhabitable."
"There's always the chance. Our first settlement was in the high plateaus, remember. Clean air, good soil, no fever."
"I remember," Gibbons said. "I remember." He was silent for a while, then he gave Harker a shrewd glance. "I know you, Matt. I might as well give permission."
Harker grinned. "You won't miss me much anyhow. I'm not a good influence any more." He started for the door. "Give me three weeks. You'll take that long to careen and scrape the bottoms anyhow. Maybe I'll come back with something."
McLaren said, "I'm going with you, Matt."
Harker gave him a level-eyed stare. "You better stay with Viki."
"If there's good land up there, and anything happens to you so you can't come back and tell us...."