"Stuff that will bring money back on Earth," Pearce said. "Gold, for
example."
For some reason which I couldn't explain just then, I found myself
clutching eagerly at the thought. "It's possible," I said. "We've
hardly scratched the surface as yet."
Pearce gazed searchingly at me for a moment. Finally he asked, "What
was your motive for accompanying this expedition, Farris? To advance
the cause of science? Or what?"
"Why ... to get some profit out of it." The reason which had puzzled me
was suddenly clear. I recalled abruptly the hopes and dreams I'd had,
overlooked in the wonders of exploration.
Pearce nodded. "Exactly. And the same applies to me." His tone became
bitter. "Being famous in your chosen line of work is nice, but it
doesn't buy you much. At least, it doesn't buy the things that really
matter. Newscast blurbs, banquet invitations, and honorary memberships
hardly provide the fancy style of living they suggest. Awards and
prizes are too small and too far between to build a complete, private
laboratory."