He nodded. "I'll get your tickets for you. On the first ship I can. Just leave it to me."
"It's too much trouble," I protested.
"No it's not." He smiled. "Besides, I'd like to bring them out to you. I'd like to see your farm, if I may."
Then I remembered what John Emery had said this morning about our anniversary. It would be a wonderful celebration, now that there was something to celebrate. We could even save our announcement that we were going home until then.
"Mr. Duane," I said. "Next week, on the tenth, we'll have been here thirty-five Martian years. Maybe you'd like to come out then. I guess our neighbors will be giving us a sort of party."
He laid the pen down and looked at me very intently. "They don't know you're planning to leave yet, do they?"
"No. We'll wait and tell them then."
Duane nodded slowly. "I'll be there," he promised.
