“But your ship,” Sam said. “Where is it?”
“Back there.” I waved a hand toward the trees. “Miles. I thought of the
advantages of the ocean too late.”
“Any fuel?”
I shook my head. “That’s why I left. I thought I might find some
inhabitants here, if anywhere, so I started out. Then, today, I saw
your ship land.”
Sam’s jaw dropped. “You saw me land? But why--?”
“I wanted a little time to think, to make up my mind,” I said. “I’ve
been watching, trying to decide. If you had been some men I’ve seen--or
even some I’ve known--well, a planet is a pretty big place. And
loneliness is preferable to a lot of things.”
Sam shuddered. “God!” he said. “You might have--” The thought that he
had been on trial struck him with a sudden sickness. “You might have
decided to go away....”
“Would that have been a tragedy?” I made it light.
“Louise”--Sam’s voice was husky and low--“trite as it seems, you were
the answer to a prayer. Just before you stepped out from the trees, I
thought that just one thing was needed to make this paradise complete.
You.”
“But you didn’t know me,” I objected.
Sam’s voice was so soft I could scarcely hear it. “I’ve known you all
my life.”
I knew how he felt. I felt the same way. I knew what it was to
be alone, completely alone, waiting throughout eternity for one
personality to shatter your loneliness and bring life into an aching
void.
“You said you’d been watching me,” Sam said. “I thought I felt eyes on
me back there in the trees.”