"There must have been something wrong with your Aircab," she replied. "You crashed. The same way I did a couple days ago." The woman walked over to the generator boxes, picked them up and brought them back to where he was still sitting on the grass. "We'll need these," she explained. "There are emergency supplies inside them." Hal didn't move. She waited a moment, then said lightly, tossing her golden hair, "Come along now. We're way out in the wilderness, you know, and there aren't any robots to bring us our dinner." "Wilderness," Hal murmured. "That's right. Well, I guess we'll die here." "Oh nonsense!" She stamped her foot with impatience. "This would have to happen to me. Of all people to be stranded with in the wilderness, I have to get one of you insipid, gutless Proprietors." "Oh yes?" Hal said with unconscious anger, lurching to his feet. "Who's insipid and gutless? I'm considerably more civilized than you are." Quick surprise crossed her face as she listened. Hal continued his angry speech. "Why is it that all you savages always think you know how to live better than your superiors? If you are so clever, why aren't you civilized?" "Well, listen to him. You sound almost human." She was laughing at him! "Damn savage," he growled. He turned and strode purposefully away from her across the soft matting of grass. "Where do you think you are going?" she called. "Away from here," he replied. But the rapid pace in the unaccustomed gravity was very quickly taking his energy. His breath came in deep, labored gasps already, and he could scarcely move his feet. He stopped abruptly, and looked at the distant horizon. There was nothing in sight that indicated civilization. These regions had not been inhabited for two hundred and fifty years--ever since the severance of the planetary colonies from political control by the motherland, and the settling of the Proprietors into their well-separated, civilized cities. The land was all owned by the Proprietors, but was unnecessary, and hence not used. He felt a light touch on his arm. "I'm sorry," she apologized softly. "I can understand you a little, but you're so completely under the influence of your horrible personality conditioning methods that you can't possibly understand me." "Who's under what influence?" Hal said in a valiant attempt to express his irritation, but his voice held the obvious weakness of fatigue. "You poor boy," she sympathized. "You don't sound very much influenced by it right now." At her words, Hal suddenly became aware of the unaccustomed vigor of his own emotions, and he was puzzled by it. But it seemed oddly unimportant for some reason. "How come you can handle this awful weight so easily?" he asked her.