I couldn't believe it. I stared at him, sure that I'd misunderstood.
"Sixty-five years...." He shook his head. "I only hope I'm doing the right thing. I hope you won't regret this."
"We won't," I whispered.
Then I remembered that we were still short of money. That that was why I'd come to the spaceport originally. I was almost afraid to mention it, for fear I'd lose everything.
"Is there—is there some way we could be excused from the insurance?" I said. "So we could go back this year? We're three hundred short."
He smiled. It was a very reassuring smile. "You don't need to worry about the money," he said. "The colonial office can take care of that. After all, we owe your generation a great debt, Mr. Farwell. A passport tax and the fare to Earth are little enough to pay for a planet."
I didn't quite understand him, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that we were going home. Back to Earth. I could see Martha's face when I told her. I could see her tears of happiness....
There were tears on my own cheeks, but I wasn't ashamed of them now.
"Mr. Farwell," Duane said. "You go back home. The shuttle ship will be leaving in a few minutes."
"You mean that—" I started.