platform. "All right, John."

Emery nodded too, and then he raised his hand. As he did so, the
shouting stopped and the people stood suddenly quiet, still looking up
at us.

"You all know that this is an anniversary," John Emery said. "And you
all know something else that Lewis and Martha thought they'd kept as a
surprise--that this is more than an anniversary. It's goodbye."

I stared at him. He knew. All of them knew. And then I looked at Duane
and saw that he was smiling more than ever.

"They've lived here on Mars for thirty-five years," John Emery said.
"And now they're going back to Earth."

Martha's hand tightened on mine. "Look, Lewis," she cried. "Look at
them. They're not angry. They're--they're happy for us!"

John Emery turned to face us. "Surprised?" he said.

I nodded. Martha nodded too. Behind him, the people cheered again.

"I thought you would be," Emery said. Then, "I'm not very good at
speeches, but I just wanted you to know how much we've enjoyed being
your neighbors. Don't forget us when you get back to Earth."

* * * * *

It was a long, long trip from Mars to Earth. Three months on the ship,
thirty-five million miles. A trip we had dreamed about for so long,
without any real hope of ever making it. But now it was over. We were
back on Earth. Back where we had started from.

"It's good to be alone, isn't it, Lewis?" Martha leaned back in her
chair and smiled up at me.

I nodded. It did feel good to be here in the apartment, just the two
of us, away from the crowds and the speeches and the official welcomes
and the flashbulbs popping.

"I wish they wouldn't make such a fuss over us," she said. "I wish
they'd leave us alone."

"You can't blame them," I said, although I couldn't help wishing the
same thing. "We're celebrities. What was it that reporter said about
us? That we're part of history...."

She sighed. She turned away from me and looked out the window again,
past the buildings and the lighted traffic ramps and the throngs of
people bustling by outside, people who couldn't see in through the
one-way glass, people whom we couldn't hear because the room was
soundproofed.

"Mars should be up by now," she said.

"It probably is." I looked out again, although I knew that we would
see nothing. No stars. No planets. Not even the moon, except as a pale
half disc peering through the haze. The lights from the city were too
bright. The air held the lig