mid a confusion of pipes, girders, pylons, and antennae. On towers above, the radars swept the skyline in endless circles, while the tall, praying-mantislike laser transceivers stared unblinkingly at the heavens, carrying the ceaseless dialogues between the base computers and unseen communications satellites fifty miles up. In the distance beyond the base, the rugged bastions of Ptolemy's mountain wall towered above the plain. From the blackness above them, a surface transporter was sliding toward the base on its landing approach.
Eventually Hunt said: "To think—a generation ago, all this was just desert." It was more a thought voiced than a statement.
Danchekker did not answer for a long time. When he did, he kept his eyes fixed outside.
"But man dared to dream . . ." he murmured slowly. After a pause he added, "And what man dares to dream today, tomorrow he makes come true."
Another long silence followed. Hunt took a cigarette from his case and lit it. "You know," he said at last, blowing a stream of smoke slowly toward the glass wall of the dome, "it's going to be a long voyage to Jupiter. We could get a drink down below—one for the road, as it were."
Danchekker seemed to turn the suggestion over in his mind for a while. At length he shifted his gaze back within the confines of the dome and turned to face Hunt directly.
"I think not, Dr. Hunt," he said quietly.
Hunt sighed and made as if to turn.
"However 中古車 . . ." The tone of Danchekker's voice checked him before he moved. He looked up. "If your metabolism is capable of withstanding the unaccustomed shock of nonalcoholic beverages, a strong coffee might, ah, perhaps be extremely welcome."
It was a joke. Danchekker had actually cracked a joke!
"I'll try anything once," Hunt said as they began walking toward the door of the elevator.


Chapter Nineteen
Embarkation on the orbiting Jupiter Five command ship was not scheduled to take place until a few days later. Danchekker would be busy making final arrangements for his team and their equipment to be ferried up from the Lunar