Reynolds, a grateful smile on his round face, ran his finger lovingly over the calculators, and spoke into his mike: "All ray stations. Fire on command only." The calculators clicked. "Station Six, range—"
Almira Denton looked up at Captain Jon McPartland with eyes that were the soft hue of Terra itself.
"Almira," he said, "about that—that case report."
She smiled, and the curve of her soft lips was as it had been in his mind since he left on patrol. "Jon darling," she laughed. "We can forget that. When the Congress gets through ferreting out its traitors, and hearing your report, father won't need my help with them."
"But I want you to analyze me," he insisted.
"I mean to, Jon," she agreed gently. "But only for my own information."
"And mine, too, darling," he said. "I want you to analyze a dream," McPartland said firmly. "I keep seeing a little asteroid—one I explored when I had a one-man Patrol scout, way back. I keep seeing it with an atmosphere unit installed, and a Terra-gravity unit. There's a house, and a beautiful woman with red-gold hair and gorgeous eyes, and a little boy named Patrick, and a little girl named Kathleen."
He paused, watching her eyes as the puzzlement was replaced by understanding. "What do you suppose the dream means?" he asked.
"Tell me more about it, Jon," Almira asked softly.