She was old. We were both old. There wouldn't be many more Martian summers for us, nor many years of missing Earth.
"Why can't we go back this year, Lewis?"
She smiled at me almost apologetically. She knew the reason as well as I did.
"We can't," I said. "There's not enough money."
"There's enough for our tickets."
I'd explained all that to her before, too. Perhaps she'd forgotten. Lately I often had to explain things more than once.
"You can't buy passage unless you have enough extra for insurance, and travelers' checks, and passport tax. The company has to protect itself. Unless you're financially responsible, they won't take you on the ships."
She shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever have enough."
