Randall laid down his rod. "Stewart, as you are aware, completed his
expedition two weeks ago--in a ship stripped down for maximum range.
Now he's going to tell us something about his experiences."
Mortimer, finally interested, glanced over at McAllister. The pilot,
however, was dozing.
Stewart stared at the cluster of four stars huddled together in the
still air of the briefing room. "We found the Hyades rich in Earth-type
worlds. Seven--" He paused. Was it seven, or eight? "Eight of them
are more like Terra than Terra itself. Four others are more suitable
than anything we've run across in a century and a half of galactic
exploration."
His eyes clung to the brilliant specks, set like jewels against
a velvet background. They _were_ jewels--cold and glittering and
beckoning. And he could almost feel their attraction--like a magnet
tugging on filings of hope and ambition. Yet, somehow he felt dejected,
as though he were reluctant to reach out for them.
"You did _all that_ in two years' time?" McAllister asked.
"Why yes, of course. I--" He could understand the other's skepticism,
however. He _had_ covered a lot of interstellar space.
"You all know what this development means," Randall said.
"That our expansion will be concentrated in a new direction!" Carol
volunteered hopefully.
The chair creaked its complaint as Mortimer shifted his weight. "And
the Aldebaran telepuppets?"
Randall gestured for emphasis. "That robot team is now of first-rate
importance. We'll need a full analysis of Four-B in the shortest time
possible. The Hyades are a hundred and fifty light-years away--too far
for direct development. But a halfway base in the Aldebaran system will
open them up to us immediately."
Carol found Stewart's arm. "This one is really worthwhile. Think you
can get your puppets back on their strings?"
"I suppose so. There can't be too much wrong with them." But still his
thoughts were on the Hyades. Somehow they left him with an emptiness, a
bittersweet taste. Whereas he knew he should feel only enchantment and
the satisfaction of accomplishment in his discovery.
"That all there is to this mission?" McAllister, fully awake now, asked
disappointedly.
"I thought it was going to be a challenge," Mortimer complained.
Randall played the buttons on his desk as though they were a console
keyboard. The celestial sphere deflated, then collapsed. Room lights
blazed, harsh and intense. "Everything clear?" he asked.
Then he added, "We'll assemble at oh-eight-hundred Octoday at the
_Photon II_ dock. My gear is already packed."