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Updated: May 6, 2025
Jones and Johnny Simms were long behind the others, and Jones' expression was conspicuously dead-pan. Johnny Simms looked sulkily rebellious. His sulking had not attracted attention in the control-room. He had meant to refuse sulkily to come to dinner. But Jones wouldn't trust him alone in the control-room. Now he sat down, scowling, and ostentatiously refused to eat, despite Alicia's coaxing.
"We sighted what I think you want," said Jones. He looked dead-pan and yet secretly complacent. "Just watch." The dusk grew deeper. Colorings appeared in the west. They were very similar to the sunset-colorings on Earth. "Not many volcanoes here." The amount of dust was limited, as on Earth. A great star winked into view in the east. It was as bright as Venus seen from Earth.
So nobody ever quite knew whether the dead-pan Stoky was in earnest or moved by an impish sense of humor when, following the usual thin smattering of applause, he said: "This strange beating together of hands has no meaning, and to me it is very disturbing. I do not like it. It destroys the mood my colleagues and I have been trying to create with our music."
He explained all this to Cochrane, with Holden listening in. "Oh, surely!" said Cochrane cynically. "And you'll have tax-payers objecting because you make money. You'll be regulated out of existence. Were you thinking that Spaceways would run this transportation system you're planning, without cutting anybody else in on even the glory of it?" Jones looked at him, dead-pan. But he was annoyed.
Jones rode back to Lunar City with Cochrane and Holden and Babs. His face was dead-pan. Babs tried to recover the mien and manner of the perfect secretary. "Mr. Cochrane," she said professionally, "will you want to read the publicity releases Mr. Bell turns out from what Mr. West and Mr. Jamison tell him?" "I don't think it matters," said Cochrane.
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