"... and," reminded Gary grimly, "a job of work to be done. Let's get going."
His precious portfolio securely gripped in a bronzed fist, he strode to the gangway, stood there blinking momentarily in the pleasant sunlight of Earth. Then a warm hand was on his shoulder, and a friendly voice greeted him. The voice of his superior, Dr. Wade Bryant.
"Welcome home, Gary! Have a good trip? Got lots of good shots, I hope—?"
"I got," said Gary, "plenty! Dr. Bryant, we must go to the Observatory at once. If I'm not greatly mistaken, our expedition discovered something which will tear to bits every previous cosmological theory known to science. Wait till—" He stopped abruptly, silenced by the unexpected presence of a white-haired, cherubic little stranger beside his senior. "I—er—I don't believe I've had the pleasure—?"
"No," chuckled Bryant. "But we'll soon remedy that. Professor Anjers, permit me to introduce my brilliant and indispensable young aide, Dr. Gary Lane. Gary, you've heard of Dr. Anjers, of course?"
"Of course," replied Gary respectfully. "How do you do, sir?" But his mood had changed. His eagerness was gone; he seemed almost to wish to avoid further discussion. Bryant sensed this. He looked puzzled.
"Well, Gary? Go on. You were saying—?"
"Later," said Gary briefly. He stared absently over the older man's shoulder. "Your car here?"
Flick Muldoon snorted, "Car? We need a truck! Hey, Doc—look at me! The human derrick. Gary's so doggone busy guarding that briefcase he won't give me a hand with"—His eyes rolled in mock horror of the pyramid of equipment heaped about him.
Dr. Bryant laughed. "You'll survive, Flick, I fear. Yes, the car's right over here. If you're ready now—" He led the way. They had moved but a few paces from the cradles when someone stepped beside Gary, murmured a polite, "Shall I take your portfolio, Dr. Lane?", and started to relieve young Lane of it.