"Just me, darling."
He breathed deeply, twice, and then whispered, "Louise?"
"Of course. Shh, Jeannie!"
"Jeannie's with you, Louise? She's all right? You're—all right?"
"Come and see," the sweet voice chuckled.
Captain Anderson dove into the blackness aft. It closed over him silently and completely.
On the table stood an ivory figurine, a quarter-keg of beer, a thorny cross, and a heart. It wasn't a physiological specimen; rather it was the archetype of the most sentimental of symbols, the balanced, cushiony, brilliant red valentine heart. Through it was a golden arrow, and on it lay cut flowers: lilies, white roses, and forget-me-nots. The heart pulsed strongly; and though it pumped no blood, at least it showed that it was alive, which made it, perhaps, a better thing than it looked at first glance.
Now it was very quiet in the ship, and very dark.
VII
... We are about to land. The planet is green and blue below us, and the long trip is over.... It looks as if it might be a pleasant place to live....