The girl smiled. "I do too—only—" The smile faded. Her eyes focused on some distant place, beyond the last level, beyond the Ship itself. "Only sometimes I'm afraid it's too good to happen.... That I'm dreaming, and that all at once I'll wake up, and—" She shook her head. "But that's silly, isn't it, Johnny?"
"Yes," he said. He settled back and rested against the bulkhead.
There was silence for a while, two young people, hand in hand, sitting in silence.
Finally, Marte spoke.
"Here," she said, "feel." She pressed his hand against the bulkhead. "See how cool it is?"
"Of course. It's the outside plate."
"Yes," she said, "I know. There's nothing but space out there." She squeezed his hand. "But just a little while ago, before you came, I was sitting here thinking. And I thought that wind must feel like that. I mean, not how it feels, exactly, but how it makes you feel. Wild and free. Without any bulkheads to keep you from walking and walking."
He shook his head. "Little dreamer," he whispered.
She frowned prettily. "Don't you feel it, too?"