"The old college try," I said. "Just what is the reason for going to Mars? It's costing six billion dollars. We couldn't bring back anything worth that much."
"Knowledge," said Gail.
"Is it knowledge that'll do any good?" I asked.
"We don't know," said Gail. "Remember Columbus? He was tossed into prison. People accused him of ruining the Spanish government through his crazy trips to far-off lands. There wasn't much gold, people said, without realizing that wasn't what really mattered; that the value of the discovery of the new world couldn't be figured in terms of dollars and cents. So will it prove it be, I'm sure, with Mars."
"Okay," I said, "suppose the trip is worth it. Why are we going? Particularly if there's no real money in it."
"Soldiers don't get rich," said Axel. "And how many of them risk their lives to win wars, or even to save a comrade, or perform other acts of bravery."
"Couldn't you call that glory seeking? Selfishness, in other words?"
"Do you call martyrs glory seekers because they die for principles and beliefs?"
"Not many men—sane ones, that is—become martyrs intentionally," I said.
"There are two kinds of selfishness that rule our lives, Bill Drake," said Gail. "One is self-preservation, which makes a man kill to defend himself. The other is race-preservation, which includes preservation of ideals and beliefs necessary for race progress. Men will die and become martyrs for that."