"I should say not," Don agreed. "Millions of years."
She looked at him sharply. "I wasn't talking about the age of the Earth. I mean this room—this lookout post—whatever it is."
He grinned at her. "I agree with you there, too. I'm really a very agreeable fellow, Miss Jervis. Obviously, whoever built it knew well in advance that Superior was going to take off. They also knew how much of it was going up and exactly where this would have to be built so it would be at the edge."
"Under the edge, you mean, with a downward view."
"That's right. From a distance I'd say Superior looked as if someone had cut the end off an orange. The flat part—where the cut was made—is the surface and we're looking out from a piece of the convex skin."
"You put things so simply, Mr. Cort, that even a child could understand," she said acidly.
"Thank you," he said complacently. He had remembered that whoever was listening in for Military Intelligence through the tiny radio under his shirt could have only a vague idea of what was going on. Any little word pictures he could supply, therefore, would help them understand. He had to risk the fact that his companion might think him a bit of an idiot.
Of course with this Geneva Jervis it was easy to lay himself open to the scathing comment and the barbed retort. He imagined she was extremely useful in her role as Girl Friday to Senator Bobby Thebold.
"I don't think this is the work of those boobies at the booby hatch," she was saying.
"I beg your pardon?"