We got up and went into the house and shut the veranda door behind us.
* * * * *
I couldn't go to sleep. For hours I lay in bed staring up at the
shadowed ceiling, trying to think of some way to raise the money. But
there wasn't any way that I could see. It would be at least eight
months before enough of the greenhouse crops were harvested.
What would happen, I wondered, if I went to the spaceport and asked
for tickets? If I explained that we couldn't buy insurance, that we
couldn't put up the bond guaranteeing we wouldn't become public
charges back on Earth.... But all the time I wondered I knew the
answer. Rules were rules. They wouldn't be broken especially not for
two old farmers who had long outlived their usefulness and their time.
Martha sighed in her sleep and turned over. It was light enough now
for me to see her face clearly. She was smiling. But a minute ago she
had been crying, for the tears were still wet on her cheeks.
Perhaps she was dreaming of Earth again.
Suddenly, watching her, I didn't care if they laughed at me or
lectured me on my responsibilities to the government as if I were a
senile fool. I was going to the spaceport. I was going to find out if,
somehow, we couldn't go back.
I got up and dressed and went out, walking softly so as not to awaken
her. But even so she heard me and called out to me.
"Lewis...."