Marsten came around the desk. "Sit down. Now listen to me. Did you ever
hear of a man named Hendrick Ritter?"
"No."
"The greatest scientist in the world. He's been working for me for over
a year. I hired him to do one particular job for me: to concoct a fuel
that will get a space ship to Mars and back. Well, it's done. Did you
ever hear of a man named Sam Young?"
"Same answer as before."
"He's a designer for air ships. The best in the business. He's finished
a job for me. And, Nick, it's already built. And I've got Joe Roane
working for me."
"I've heard of him," I said.
"The greatest pilot in the world," Marsten said.
"The greatest this, the greatest that. And for what? Why, the ship
probably won't get off the ground."
Marsten chewed furiously on his cigar. "But what if it does get off
the ground? What if it does get to Mars?"
"All right. So what? How do you know there's life on Mars?"
"There is. I hired the greatest--"
"Oh, no," I groaned. "I believe you, I believe you. So now we're on
Mars."
"You capture a Martian and bring him back."
"What if he doesn't care to be captured?"
"What do I pay you for?"