It was not a lovely day.
It was absolutely miserable.
Travis had his first pang of doubt when he stepped out of the ship.
The field was empty, not a native in sight. But Dahlinger was out before him, standing waist high in the grass and heaving deep lungfuls of the flower-scented air. He yelled that he could already smell the gold.
"I say, Trav," Trippe said thoughtfully from behind him, "where's the fatted calf?"
"In this life," Travis said warily, "one is often disappointed." A figure climbed out of a port over at the Mapping Command ship and came walking slowly toward them. Travis recognized him and grinned.
"Hey, Hort."
"Hey Trav," Horton replied from a distance. But he did not say anything else. He came forward with an odd look on his face. Travis did not understand. Ed Horton was an old buddy and Ed Horton should be happy to see him. Travis felt his second pang. This one went deep.
"Anybody beat us here?"