Amantha pinched the package together. "I'd give you some, but I can't cut it before the pilot sees it." "I guess you can't," said the sentry wistfully. "Maybe he won't eat all of it." "May he won't. I'll bring you back what's left--if there _is_ any left." Long after they were gone, the sentry stood there, trying to analyze the indefinable odor. He was still standing there when the checkup squad marched in and arrested him for gross dereliction of duty. * * * * * "Go away," said the pilot, disappearing from the viewport. Ethan pounded on the hull with a rock. The pilot came back, twisting his face. "Stop it. I'll angle the rocket tubes around and squirt you with them." Ethan raised the rock. "Okay," said the pilot. "I'll talk to you, though I know what you want." Sullenly, he made the hatch swing open. He looked down at them. "All right, let's hear it." "Got a present for you," said Ethan. "Not allowed to take bribes unless it's money." "Young man, where are your manners?" snapped Amantha. "Haven't got any. It's the first thing they train out of you." The pilot started to jerk his head back, saw the rock and decided not to close the hatch. He glanced at the narrow ladder to the ground. "I'll take your present. Bring it up." He stopped smirking as Amantha hitched up her skirts and, holding the package in one hand, swung up the ladder. Agile as goats and probably as sensible, he thought. He took hold of her as she neared the top. "Grandma, you're too old to climb around. You'll break every brittle bone in your body if you fall." "Ain't so brittle," said Amantha, making way for Ethan who had followed her. "My, it's cold!" She began shivering. "Invite us in to get warm." "You can't go in. I'm busy. Hey, wait!" The pilot hurried after her into the control compartment. Amantha was looking around when he arrived. "Cozy but kind of bare," she said. "Why don't you hang up pictures?" "Most fabulous pictures you'll ever see are right there." Amantha followed his glance. "Nothing but Mars. I can see that every day." She puzzled over it. "Oh, you're teasing an old woman. I didn't mean what you see out of the port, stars and planets and such. I'd want a picture of an Indian settin' on a horse." "I'll bet!" muttered the pilot. "Get warm in a hurry. I've got work to do." "You just go ahead," she said. "We'll set here and toast our toes. We don't aim to interfere." "I'll stay," said the pilot hastily. "Let's have the present." He'd made a tactical error--he should have ignored the noise that went shimmering through the hull when the old man had pounded with a rock. No, it was nice to think he could have, but impossible. Patience was one of the things the aged did have and the young didn't. Amantha set the package down. The pilot scrambled ahead of her and got the navigator's instruments off the desk and into the drawer. She opened and displayed the contents. "I baked it for you," she said. "It's a cake."