"Yes, Pop?"
His voice had been harsher than he had intended. Over the past few weeks
he seemed gradually to have been losing control of it. Now, although he
was going to do his son a favor, he sounded like a slavemaster
threatening a beating. "You can shut off your arithmetic lesson. We're
going out."
"But didn't you want me--"
"I changed my mind."
Mark seemed more troubled than pleased, as if a father who changed his
mind so readily was a man to be wary of.
_I'm on edge all the time_, thought Sam, _and I'm getting him that way,
too. I'll have to regain control of myself._
* * * * *
He had long ago made all the necessary tests for such possible dangers
as lack of oxygen and the presence of infectious organisms. On all
counts, the planet had passed muster. The sun, whiter than Sol, was
almost hot enough to make him forget the chill he carried deep inside
him. Almost, but not quite, especially as the air, though breathable,
was thin and deficient in nitrogen. The countryside was bleak, inspiring
in him the thought that there are two kinds of desolation; the one that
precedes the coming of Man, and the one which he knows only too well how
to create wherever he goes. The desolation here was non-human.
"It--it's like a cemetery, ain't it, Pop?"
Sam looked at his son sharply. Kids of ten were not supposed to know
much about cemeteries. Nor, for that matter, were kids of six, Mark's
age when the funeral had taken place. Sam hadn't let him attend, but
evidently the incident had made a deeper impression on his mind than Sam
had realized. He would always remember a cemetery as the place where his
mother lived. Perhaps he missed Rhoda almost as much as his father did.
"It's different from a cemetery," said Sam. "There's nobody buried here.
Looks like we're the first human beings ever to set foot on this place."
"Do you think we'll find animals to catch, Pop?"
"I don't see signs of any animals."
That was part of Sam's private fiction, that he was looking for strange
animals to be sold to zoos or circuses. Actually he was seeking less to
find anything new than to lose something he carried with him, and
succeeding in neither attempt.
Mark shivered in the sun. "It's kind of lonely," he said.
"More lonely than the ship?"
"It's different. It's bigger, so it's more lonely."
_I'm not so sure_, argued Sam mentally. _In the ship, we have all of
space around us, and nothing's bigger than that. Still, your opinion has
to be respected. You're almost as great an expert on the various kinds
of loneliness as I am. The difference is that you're loneliest when
you're away from people. I'm loneliest in a crowd. That's why I don't
mind this planet so much._
He walked ahead, Mark following almost reluctantly. The ground was rocky
and the shrub-like vegetation sparse and stunted, ranging in color from
greenish gray to brown. It seemed hardly capable of supporting a large
animal population. If there were any animals here at all, they were
probably too small to be impressive, and would be of little interest to
exhibitors.
They walked in silence for a few moments, and then Sam asked, "Want to
go on?"
"I want to finish my studying."
That was something new. "Okay," said Sam, and turned back.
* * * * *
They were approaching the ship when the sound of a pebble falling came
to Sam's ears. Automatically, his hand reached for his gun, and he swung
around to face what might be danger. As he did so, something snarled and
fled. He could see no sign of motion, but he could hear the scattering
of other pebbles along a gully as the creature retreated.
"Looks like we're not alone here, after all," he said. "Wonder what that
was."
"It couldn't have been very big," said Mark. "Big animals don't run
away."
"Not usually, unless they're smart, or they've met people before. I'll
have to set traps."
"Do you think maybe if you caught him you could sell him to a circus,
Pop?"
"I'll have to see what he's like, first," said Sam. He looked around.
"If there's one animal, there are likely to be others. It's strange that
I didn't detect any sign of them."
He put his arm absently over Mark's shoulder. He didn't notice the
expression on the kid's face at this unexpected gesture.
[Illustration]
When they were inside the ship again, Mark said, "Guess I'd better get
back to my arithmetic."
"In a minute," said Sam. "I want to talk to you first." He dropped
wearily into a seat, although he had done nothing that should have tired
him out. His son looked at him expectantly. "Mark, do you like traveling
around with me?"
"Sure, Pop, I like to be with you."
"Not seeing anybody else? No other kids, no people of any kind? Just
being with me, learning your lessons from tapes, and having your test
papers corrected automatically? You don't get tired of it?"
Mark hesitated despite himself. Then he said loyally, "I'd rather be
with you than anybody else. When Mom--when Mom died--I didn't want to
see anybody."
"I know how you felt. But that was four years ago. You can't grow up
alone. Now what you need to do is meet people, learn how they talk and
think and feel. You can't learn those things from tapes, and you can't
learn them from me."