"I have to get back to Washington this morning, Roger," he said. "I've scheduled a committee meeting for ten-thirty. I suppose I could call it off, but we've got to do something about the Mars colony project before public apathy forces us to drop the whole thing. You understand, don't you?" "Sure," the boy said with apparent indifference. "Maybe you should have let _me_ volunteer. You'd have solved two problems at the same time." "Now, Roger--" Duran began. But he stopped, suddenly alert. "Son, you weren't ever serious about that, were you? I mean all that talk I used to hear about your wanting to go to one of the planets?" "Ah, I don't know, Dad--" "Please, Roger, you've got to be honest with me. I want to know exactly how you feel about it. I know you've tried before, and I refused to take you seriously. I realize that. But now--now tell me the truth." And the curious thing was, he realized, that he wanted to hear from his son what he feared most to hear. "Well--sure, I wanted to go," his son said. "I kept telling you, didn't I? Of course, I wouldn't want to go unless some of the gang were going too." "You really think that you'd be willing to leave Earth, your home, your family--" Duran hesitated angrily, knowing it was the wrong approach. He waited a moment, then began again. "I'm not condemning you for it, Roger. I just find it hard to believe. And I have to be sure you know what you'd be sacrificing." "I think I do, Dad," Roger said. "But you've got to make a break sometime. I guess there'd be some girls going along, wouldn't there?" Duran grinned numbly. "I guess there would, son," he said. * * * * * The Senator watched the land of his home state sink rapidly into the morning haze as the jetliner soared upward. It was a sight he had seen often, but never with the sense of challenge he experienced now. For every moment brought him closer to what beyond all doubt would be the toughest fight of his political career. But he felt that he had logic on his side, though sentiment would very probably be against him. He sat back, lit a cigarette, and considered the irony of the situation. When legislation had been passed authorizing the Department of Extraterrestrial Development to start the colony project, a list of criteria had been drawn up for the would-be settler. It had meticulously specified the requirements of health, intelligence, and adaptability. And most rigidly adhered to of all had been the provision that the applicant be over the age of twenty-five. For, above all, it was assumed, a colonist must be mature.