"Don't get up, Martha," I said. "I'm going into town."
"All right, Lewis."
She relaxed, and a minute later she was asleep again. I tiptoed
downstairs and out the front door to where the trike car was parked,
and started for the village a mile to the west.
It was desert all the way. Dry, fine red sand that swirled upward in
choking clouds, if you stepped off the pavement into it. The narrow
road cut straight through it, linking the outlying district farms to
the town. The farms themselves were planted in the desert. Small,
glassed-in houses and barns, and large greenhouses roofed with even
more glass, that sheltered the Earth plants and gave them Earth air to
breathe.
* * * * *
When I came to the second farmhouse John Emery hurried out to meet me.
"Morning, Lewis," he said. "Going to town?"
I shut off the motor and nodded. "I want to catch the early shuttle
plane to the spaceport," I said. "I'm going to the city to buy some
things...."
I had to lie about it. I didn't want anyone to know we were even
thinking of leaving, at least not until we had our tickets in our
hands.
"Oh," Emery said. "That's right. I suppose you'll be buying Martha an
anniversary present."