"Then why?"
"They might need me in Control," he said, half seriously.
Marte's eyes opened an involuntary fraction. "Nothing's wrong, is there?" Her lips had lost their sudden, native smile, and the smile in her eyes half fled.
"No. Everything's fine.... I just meant in case...."
"Oh, Johnny, don't say it; please." Her eyes spoke with her voice, emotions bubbled in them. Her face had something of a woman's seriousness in it, the product more of native understanding than experience, and much of a girl's naivete. "Don't even think about anything like that." She looked up at him, studied his face intently, and then said, "Tell me that: Say nothing's going to go wrong."
"I was just talking, Marte. Nothing can go wrong; not now."
"Say it again!"
"Nothing is going to go wrong," he said slowly, giving each word its full meaning.
"Do you really—really and truly—believe that?" she asked.
"Of course I do, Marte."