To Marte and Johnny Nine the space ship was
their world. And yet they dreamed of returning
home to Earth ... a planet they had never seen.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
October 1950
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"Marte!"
His voice echoed hollowly, dying away to an eerie whisper, fainter andfainter.
"Marte!"
It was very silent here on the last level below the giant atomic motors.
The feeble light showered down from a single overhead bulb; it wastheir special bulb. Marte always lit it when she came below.
"Marte!" His voice was almost pleading.
"Here I am, Johnny. Over here."
"Little imp," he said, not unkindly. "What do you mean, hiding?"
"Hiding, Johnny? I wasn't hiding.... And besides, you looked so funnyand lost, standing there, calling me."
He saw her, now, sitting half in shadow, leaning against the farbulkhead.
His feet ping-pinged on the uncarpeted deck plates as he crossed to her.
"Hello," she said brightly. She threw back her head, and her eyescaught the dim light and sparkled it. "I hoped you'd come today."Smiling, she held out her hand.
He took it. "I really shouldn't have," he said.
"Oh?" She puckered her lips in mock anger and drew him down besideher. "Didn't you want to come?"
"You know I did."
"Then why?"
"They might need me in Control," he said, half seriously.
Marte's eyes opened an involuntary fraction. "Nothing's wrong, isthere?" Her lips had lost their sudden, native smile, and the smile inher eyes half fled.
"No. Everything's fine.... I just meant in case...."
"Oh, Johnny, don't say it; please." Her eyes spoke with her voice,emotions bubbled in them. Her face had something of a woman'sseriousness in it, the product more of native understanding thanexperience, and much of a girl's naivete. "Don't even think aboutanything like that." She looked up at him, studied his face intently,and then said, "Tell me that: Say nothing's going to go wrong."
"I was just talking, Marte. Nothing can go wrong; not now."
"Say it again!"
"Nothing is going to go wrong," he said slowly, giving each word itsfull meaning.
"Do you really—really and truly—believe that?" she asked.
"Of course I do, Marte."
The girl smiled. "I do too—only—" The smile faded. Her eyes focusedon some distant place, beyond the last level, beyond the Ship itself."Only sometimes I'm afraid it's too good to happen.... That I'mdreaming, and that all at once I'll wake up, and—" She shook her head."But that's silly, isn't it, Johnny?"
"Yes," he said. He settled back and rested against the bulkhead.
There was silence for a while, two young people, hand in hand, sittingin silence.
Finally, Marte spoke.
"Here," she said, "feel." She pressed his hand against the bulkhead."See how cool it is?"
"Of course. It's the outside plate."
"Yes," she said, "I know. There's nothing but space out there." Shesqueezed his hand. "But just a little while ago, before you came, I wassitting here thinking. And I thought that wind must feel like that. Imean, not how it feels, exactly, but how it makes you feel. Wildand free. Without any bulkheads to keep you from walking and walking."
He shook his head. "Little dreamer," he whispered.
She frowned prettily. "Don't you feel it, too?"
Johnny Nine pressed his hand to the bulkhead again. "Yes, I guess maybeI do. In a way."
"