Hugh McCann glanced around the circle of faces and saw the new hope that came into them, the new belief that sprang into existence so quickly because they wanted to believe. He smiled, somewhat sadly, and picked up the pile of reports and the photographs he had just developed. Then he slipped out of the room, through the crowd outside, away from them and the rising hum of their voices. He didn't need to say anything more. The ship would go on. * * * * * "Hugh, is that you?" "Yes, Nora." She was waiting for him in the corridor. She came up to him and smiled and slipped her arm through his. They walked on together, down the hall past the last of the people. "I heard what you said, Hugh. You convinced them." He nodded. "I wonder why it took me so long to think of it." The voices died away behind them. They were all alone. They rounded a corner where a viewscreen picked up the image of the moon, so familiar, now the only thing that was familiar about this Earth. Nora shivered. "You were very logical, Hugh. But I didn't believe you." He glanced around and saw that there was no one near them and that the communicators in this part of the ship were turned off. Only then did he answer her. "I didn't believe myself, Nora." "Tell me." "When we're outside." They went down the winding ramp that led to the interior of the ship. It too was deserted now. They left the carpeted, muffled corridors and their footsteps rang on the steel plates that lay down the middle of the ship, its heart, where the energy converters were, and the disposal units, and the plant rooms, and the great glass spheres of the hydroponics tanks. "It's ironic, isn't it?" Nora said slowly. "We left here so long ago, looking for worlds with life, and we come back to find our own world dead." "It's ironic, all right." He walked along the row of tanks until he came to the one he was searching for, and then he picked up a glass cylinder and filled it from the tank. "I had to tell them something, Nora. They couldn't have gone on, otherwise." The bottle was full. He stoppered it and then turned away. They crossed to the nearest lock and he pushed the button that opened it. They waited a few minutes until the door came open, and then they went out, down the ramp to the ground, across the slippery rocks. Even through the clouds there was enough light to see by. "It's warm," she said. "It always is, now." They were approaching the ocean. The surf beat loudly in their ears. The spray was warm against their faces, almost as warm as the night wind. "Tell me," she said. "You know what really happened, don't you?" "I think so. I can't really be sure." They paused on the low ledge where he had stood earlier and watched the girls gather their data for the reports. At their feet the waves washed up to the edges of the tide pools, eddying into and out of them softly. The water looked dark and cold, but they knew that it too was warm.