gadgets to keep things dry and cool." He looked straight at Greg. "You
know it's the most desirable planet in the system but they've
discouraged emigration because they need the spaceships to handle the
cancer colonies on Mars. It's only tramp freighters like this that can
get away with trips to Venus." He pulled the film from its fixing bath
and squinted at it. "Not a sign of a fracture."

* * * * *

Greg began to wonder what Coleridge was leading up to. Everything he
said appeared to be a case of diverting attention from Greg's problem by
talking about Venus' merits. He decided to play along until he found
out.

"You think I could find something to keep myself occupied on Venus?"

"Sure, they need smart men, and you can tell the employment agencies
that your wife and kids are on the way."

Greg stared at him, feeling the torment return.

Coleridge grinned. "Haven't you ever put two and two together about the
population figures?"

"You mean there's a chance for my family to get from Mars to Venus?"

"Look. You remember that they started to send people from Earth to Mars
a century ago, because the population had overgrown Earth. Emigration
has gone on all that time, millions of people have been sent to Mars,
and once they get there they have children and raise families just as
they would do on Earth. Now, if you weren't a lawyer, always splitting
hairs and quibbling, you'd have guessed long ago what other intelligent
people sooner or later realize. Mars is smaller than Earth, only part of
it is warm enough for Earthmen--so Mars got overpopulated, too, a few
years back.

"Remember what I told you in the bar about metastasis? I thought you'd
catch on then, when I tried to draw an analogy about migrating cancer
cells and migrating people.

"They've been afraid to tell people on Earth the real situation, because
Venus has been held up for so long as the second Eden where we'll all
live as soon as the cancer problem is licked. But actually, they've had
to ship new arrivals on Mars off to Venus in recent years, because
there's no more room on Mars. I suppose they'll break the news to Earth
some of these days, formally. If you were closer to the grapevine, you
probably would have heard the rumor long ago."

Greg sat there gaping at Coleridge. Finally he asked, in humbled tones:
"If Venus is such a paradise, how come you don't drop off there and stay
there yourself?"

"Well," the