"Look, Julius, I'm not going back," Chapman repeated dully. "I haven't anything to go back for."
"You're doing a much braver thing than you may think," a voice cut in. It belonged to Eberlein.
Chapman looked at him. Eberlein flushed, then turned and walked-stiffly to the lock to join the others.
Just before the inner door of the lock shut, they could hear Chapman, his hands on his hips, breaking in the Third on how to be happy and stay healthy on the Moon. His voice was ragged and strained and sounded like a top-sergeant's.
Dahl and Eberlein stood in the outer port of the relief ship, staring back at the research bunker. It was half hidden in the shadows of a rocky overhang that protected it from meteorites.
"They kidded him a lot this morning," Dahl said. "They said he had found a home on the Moon."
"If we had stayed an hour or so more, he might have changed his mind and left, after all," Eberlein mused, his face a thoughtful mask behind his air helmet.
"I offered him money," Dahl said painfully. "I was a coward and I offered him money to stay in my place." His face was bitter and full of disgust for himself.
Eberlein turned to him quickly and automatically told him the right thing.