He lived, intact, ten days; his brain, for which there was enough starch, air, and water, stayed alive and able to communicate--how long?--Moon-Martian did not know--a long time, too-long, till he was sure the Martian knew _enough_ now for the next Earthmen; then he chose not-to-live. It was his choice to make. The Martian did not like it, but complied; it had no choice. _Wednesday, October 19, 1977, 10:15_ P.M. (_C.S.T._) The two bulky figures entered the half-track, and the taller one sealed the door behind them. When he turned back to her, the woman had already opened the car’s oxy valve, and removed her helmet. Without taking his eyes from her face, he reached up and undid the clasps on his, broke the gasket seal, and lifted the bowl off his head. He stepped forward, and she took one step at the same time, meeting him. For the first time in two months, they met each other’s lips. He stripped off his gauntlets, and held her head in his hands, drinking in the touch and look and scent and feel of her. From the neck down, the limp pressure suits swathed them both in formless fabric armor; but hands and heads were free to caress; a smile could be finger-traced as well as seen; a murmured word was clear to a close ear. For minutes, they stood close as the cloth barriers would let them be, not thinking anything, not saying anything in words that mattered. Then, still without words, he started the car, and they sat together, his arm around her, her head on his chest, for all the world like two wistful teenagers, while the ’track chugged torpidly back over the black face of the old Moon, under the gleaming greenfaced glow of Earth. Perhaps half way back, the words began. And then they tumbled out, questions on both sides coming so eagerly that nothing could really start to be answered. It was a curious double-level conversation, too: because while their spoken words explored the wide new world opened up by the events at the Shack, the unspoken dialogue between them continued to re-enforce itself, and re-create their private world of love and close communication. The contact, once made, seemed quite able to function on its own, independent of the--