Spero too had noticed the note of rejection in his voice. "You'd better grab the chance, Keating," he said. "Right now I'll admit I don't like Venus anymore than you. But we're going to change all that. Right after the migration starts there'll be cities, and parks and railroads. And we'll be the ones responsible for all of it. We'll be heroes--not just for ten or twenty years, but forever!" "Did I hear someone say forever?" The voice had a resonant, almost musical pitch to it. It was deep and throaty, more like an adolescent boy's voice than a woman's. She was standing at the arched entrance to the library, one hand balanced on the jade statue flanking the threshold. She had finespun taffy-blonde hair and a complexion to match. She wore a gray-green krylon dress, the same color as her eyes. It looked good on her. A space jumper would have looked equally well. "I don't believe you've met my daughter," Dr. Hamlin said. "Diane, this is Mr. Keating." Diane crossed the room. The pressure of her fingers was quick, and warm and suggestive. "Hello, Mr. Keating," she said. Carl was aware of mumbling something polite. Across the room, Stewart Ferguson had derricked himself out of the chair. Spero remained seated, caressing the girl with his sultry brown eyes. Diane flicked an imaginary wisp of hair back from behind her ear. "Have you decided to join us, Mr. Keating?" she said. "Us?" She searched his face. "Why, yes. Didn't Dad tell you there'd be five of us. After all, who'd want a slice of immortality more than a woman." "Immortality for a goddess," Ferguson said blandly. The soft, red mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. Then the brief look of annoyance was gone. "You will come, won't you?" she said. Keating avoided her eyes. Again he found his gaze wandering to the wall mirror; looking at his own face, coarse and ruddy looking against Diane's soft white shoulder. "Count me in," he said quietly. III Keating opened his eyes slowly, dimly aware of the familiar throbbing headache and a dull racking pain around the chest. Hazy-looking behind a galaxy of dancing spots was the instrument panel. He shook his head sideways--hard. The spots dissolved and the big panel board jumped into focus. The ship was two hundred miles above the Montauk Spaceport. He flicked a glance over his shoulder, half expecting to see the familiar blue uniforms of his fellow crewmates. Instead he saw three men and a girl--a girl with long shapely legs and taffy-blonde hair. So it was true then. It hadn't been a dream after all. After the passengers began to stir, he turned. "Have a nice sleep?" he asked. Diane shot him a pale smile. Stewart Ferguson pretended to applaud. "Splendid Captain," he said contemptuously. "A momentous speech for a momentous occasion. Come, say something more for the history books!"