ing on the moon had another purpose. We kept the room temperature
at 70 F, for heating and cooling economy; the transition from Venus to
Mars was much simpler if ambient temperature dropped from 140 to 70 and
from 70 to 0, rather than straight through the range.

* * * * *

Next, a Martian polar cap, and we looked down a long canal that
disappeared on the horizon. Water appeared to run uphill for that
effect. The whole scene looked like an Arizona highway at dusk--what it
should have. To our right, a suggestion of--damn the opposition's
eyes--culture: a large stone whatzit. It was a jarring note.

We selected one of those nondescript asteroids with just enough diameter
to show extreme curvature. Frank had done magnificently. I found myself
hanging onto the cart. Headlights deliberately dimmed, on the rocky
surface, the cart bumped wildly. The sky was black, broken only by
little, hard chunks of light. No horizon. The feeling of being ready to
drop was intense, possibly too much so.

Europa, then, in a valley of ice. We'd picked Jupiter's third moon
because its frozen atmosphere permitted some eerie pseudo-ice
sculpturing. As we moved, Jupiter appeared between breaks and peaks in
the sheer wall. Worked nicely, seeing the monstrous planet distended
overhead, like a gaily colored beach ball moving with us, as the moon
from a train window. Unfortunately, the ice forms detracted somewhat.

Mimas, pitch black, then a glow. Stark landscape quickly becoming
visible. Steep cliffs, rocky plain. Saturn rising. The rings, their
shadow on the globe, the beauty of it, made me sit stunned, though I
knew what to expect.

The guide warned us radar spotted an approaching object, probably a
meteor. We ran, the cart at maximum speed--not much, really. It tore at
you, wanting to stare at Saturn, wanting to duck.

Hit the special section, dropped and rose our three inches--one hell of
a distance--and the tour was over. I kept thinking, insanely, that the
meteor _was_ a perfect conflict touch.

We unsuited silently. Finally, Hazel breathed, "Hallelujah!" It was
summation of success. There now remained but one thing: wait for the
quarry to show.

I estimated the necessary time at four days and nights after opening. It
was hard to wait, hard not to fidget under the watchful--the only
word--eyes of the GG. They were up to something, undoubtedly. But there
was something far more important: I'd narrowed the