"Look where you're going," she said sharply, and he shook his head dazedly. He slowly removed his clothing, dropped it on the ground, and jumped into the water.
That was the end of the spell. The water was like ice, he howled like a wounded animal and tried to jump out again. But the gravity made him clumsy and he fell back with a great splash. He rose again, gasping and sputtering, making wild, awkward movements—in a frenzy to get out of the excruciating coldness. Finally he was lying on the grass, panting and exhausted.
Lois was standing over him, her pale blue eyes dancing with delight. "What a spectacle," she bubbled merrily. "You should have seen yourself. I sure wish I had a vic-o-graph with me. Such performances should be preserved."
Unaccountably, Hal found himself gurgling like a delighted baby, and then laughing with her in loud, uncivilized guffaws.
After a few minutes, they were both worn out with hilarity. Lois sighed. She gave him a brimming smile, and went on back to the lean-to. "Get your clothes on," she said. "I'll have some breakfast for you in a few minutes."
It was food, Hal agreed, but it was not very good. It had come out of the standard emergency ration from the Aircab master units, and no power on earth could have made it very palatable. And the supply was nearly gone.
"I don't know how we can get back," she said thoughtfully, as she chewed on a wafer. "Plenty of Aircabs go by—I've seen a dozen or so during the past week. But nobody ever looks out of them except Outlanders, and there aren't many of us around. So there isn't any point in building a signal fire."
Hal did not reply. He lay back on the grass, his belly full with unaccustomed satisfaction, staring at the blue sky. He decided that he still preferred green. "It's sort of a washed-out color," he murmured.
"What?"