"Sixty-five years...." He shook his head. "I only hope I'm doing the
right thing. I hope you won't regret this."
"We won't," I whispered.
Then I remembered that we were still short of money. That that was why
I'd come to the spaceport originally. I was almost afraid to mention
it, for fear I'd lose everything.
"Is there--is there some way we could be excused from the insurance?"
I said. "So we could go back this year? We're three hundred short."
He smiled. It was a very reassuring smile. "You don't need to worry
about the money," he said. "The colonial office can take care of that.
After all, we owe your generation a great debt, Mr. Farwell. A
passport tax and the fare to Earth are little enough to pay for a
planet."
I didn't quite understand him, but that didn't matter. The only thing
that mattered was that we were going home. Back to Earth. I could see
Martha's face when I told her. I could see her tears of happiness....
There were tears on my own cheeks, but I wasn't ashamed of them now.
"Mr. Farwell," Duane said. "You go back home. The shuttle ship will be
leaving in a few minutes."
"You mean that--" I started.
He nodded. "I'll get your tickets for you. On the first ship I can.
Just leave it to me."
"It's too much trouble," I protested.
"No it's not." He smiled. "Besides, I'd like to bring them out to you.
I'd like to see your farm, if I may."
Then I remembered what John Emery had said this morning about our
anniversary. It would be a wonderful celebration, now that there was
something to celebrate. We could even save our announcement that we
were going home until then.
"Mr. Duane," I said. "Next week, on the tenth, we'll have been here
thirty-five Martian years. Maybe you'd like to come out then. I guess
our neighbors will be giving us a sort of party."
He laid the pen down and looked at me very intently. "They don't know
you're planning to leave yet, do they?"
"No. We'll wait and tell them then."
Duane nodded slowly. "I'll be there," he promised.
* * * * *
Martha was out on the veranda again, looking down the road toward the
village. All afternoon at least one of us had been out there watching
for our guests, waiting for our anniversary celebration to begin.
"Do you see anyone yet?" I called.
"No," she said. "Not yet...."
I looked around the room hoping I'd find something left undone that I
could work on, so I wouldn't have to sit and worry about the
possibility of Duane's having forgotten us. But everything was ready.
The extra chairs were out and the furniture all dusted, and Martha's
cakes and cookies arranged on the table.
I couldn't sit still. Not today. I got up out of the chair and joined
her on the veranda.
"I wonder what their surprise is...." she said. "Didn't John give you
any hint at all?"
"No," I said. "But whatever it is, it can't be half as wonderful as
ours."
She reached for my hand. "Lewis," she whispered. "I can hardly believe
it, can you?"
"No," I said. "But it's true. We're really going."