News from her father came indirectly. A Tibetan sent word from halfway around the planet that he had worked with her father on Mars and promised to bring a message to her. He was in good health and thought of her daily. He was leaving for the vicinity of Jupiter and from there would go to the stations beyond Saturn. He hoped to see her before winter and bade her be of good spirit and firm faith that the big job would soon be done. Early in June one of the girls on the overlapping shift told her that a man in uniform had asked for her. She couldn't imagine who it might be, for the men she knew at the Center were aware of her hours and would look for her in the dining hall. Crossing the distance to the hall, she studied the tall man in the worn uniform who stood near the entrance. The hair at his temples was gray and he wore a single ribbon tied at his throat. As she drew near, she saw the light of long and terrible experience in his eyes. For a moment she could hardly stand. Black spots came before her eyes and the world seemed to spin beneath her. Then she knew she was rushing to him. A minute passed before he spoke. "I've had a devil of a time finding you. Searched half the continent." "Al," she breathed and couldn't say any more. Lunch was forgotten. She wouldn't have returned to work if he had not insisted. That evening he ate with her in the dining hall and afterwards led her out to a groundcar. In the car they rose above the factory and up through a snowbank cloud. When they broke clear and could see Luna at thirty degrees in the southeast and Venus sparkling like a jewel in the west, he set the robot controls to hold the car motionless. After a long moment of gazing at her he said. "I thought of you a lot up there." He pointed toward Saturn. "Long hours of waiting for orders to move to counter some other move. The realization of the vastness, the inconceivable immensity, of space, and how tiny and feeble man is. It made me wonder why the breath of life had been breathed into my body, and I thought of you, and I think it made me understand that our Creator intends for life to go on and upward, and because of that He endowed us with love." She moved closer to him, but he remained silent so long that she felt a need to bridge across. She said, "Tell me about the night of the strike." Lines of pain came into his features. "Don't ask me about that, Sue. So many of the boys I had trained died that night." "Oh!" There was a longer silence. At last his arm came about her. Moments passed and then she understood that no bridge would ever be needed. Words were no longer necessary. She no longer tried to guard her own thoughts. And when he asked the question it brought no new excitement. She had known that he would ask it, and gave the answer with her lips against his. "And the date?" he said.