"My partner and yours are cutting logs above us," she said. "We can be alone for several hours...." Brink pushed her soft palm from his arm. For the past three weeks physical exhaustion and unwonted exercise had driven any desire for her from his thoughts. She was Carby's partner for a year--and Carby was his friend. "Don't get me wrong, Dorav!" Her eyes flashed. They were blue and very dark and clear. "I want to go back to the Earth--to York Dome, to Sippi Dome or one of the other two domes in North America." "I think we all do at times," Brink said coldly. "But it's not possible. Earth is forty or fifty light years away." "I know a way." Rea Smyt's eyes were bright. "But I need a partner. Bryt won't go--he likes it here. And your blonde cow of a partner...." "Tzal is okay," Brink said angrily. "Shut your mouth and go back to your own cabin before I--" "We could go across the plains to the old ruins," Rea cried hastily, "and then journey down...." Brink's work-roughened fingers spun her about facing toward Carby's cabin and the round gray tent beside it at the opposite end of the knoll. Rea was sobbing angrily. "I'll go by myself," she cried. "You fools can stay here and live like beasts--it's so simple if you only...." Brink gave her a shove. "If you worked as you should, you wouldn't find time to be discontented. And next year you can draw a new partner from the unattached pool." The girl's eyes were hot as she turned and raced off along the path bisecting the knoll's green-swarded crown. And Dorav Brink set to work building the huge stone-and-clay chimney that was to warm them in the winter ahead. The memory of Rea's words and the softness of her, kept intruding. Suddenly, he found himself longing for the comforts and the security of York Dome--he had been a peace guard, serving two hours every month--life had been soft and easy.... Savagely Brink swung his stone hammer, trying to smash his memories of mechanized, pleasant sloth as well as the harsh substance of the rocks. * * * * * It was another morning, the weeks of feverish planting and hunting for game to trade at the frozen locker plant at Center, were behind them. Now it was late summer on Sulle II, and even the early morning was uncomfortably warm. Brink yawned and stretched luxuriously on his cot. Across the room Tzal still slept, her tousled, short-cropped hair faded by the sun, and her exposed firm flesh a ripe, golden-red. Her face was turned toward him and she was smiling faintly, as though at some pleasant dream fantasy.