Brian seemed to accept Yancey's protestations as genuine. Selo regarded her husband with quiet suspicion.
The next morning Yancey made all the preparations for Brian's departure. He had painstakingly drawn a detailed map of the route to Athens. He personally chose a new plasti-shield to protect Brian from the pelting of the dust and sand. Finally he filled the two thermiteens with their precious supply of water.
Finishing up this last chore in the little lab which housed the water supply, he smiled to himself, for he knew that Brian was using his absence from the living-room to pay Selo a fond farewell.
Only as the vac-lock closed on Brian and the indicator showed them he had left the humidi-hut did Yancey relax. He leaned against the door and smiled at Selo.
"So," he half-whispered, "your lover's gone. But he promised you that he'd come back for you, didn't he? Didn't he?"
For a moment Selo met his gaze. Then, she turned and started toward the kitchen.
"I wouldn't leave just yet," he taunted. "I wouldn't leave until you hear why he isn't coming back for you. Doesn't that interest you?"
She stopped, not turning, her back rigid. "I thought you'd change your mind," Yancey went on. "I thought you'd like to know why you can't count on seeing Mr. Brian Daniels again."
He laughed, and the sound was like a bad smell in the close little hut. "The thermiteens are punctured," he giggled. "The water your lover needs is already evaporated. When he wants it, in three or four hours, those thermiteens won't even be moist. He won't be able to keep on to the auxiliary cache. And he won't be able to come back here."