"I need a bit of relaxation," he said. "We've had too many hours of solid worry over this thing." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Tom," she said, "you're all to bits. Why don't you quit?" "Quit?" he said dully. "Look, Jenna, I quit a long time ago. Fact of the matter is, there's not one of us but won't kill ourselves as soon as the need for us is over. Excepting you and Ralph. You--have one another to live for. We--have nothing." "Grant?" "Grant will be at loose ends, too. Remember, he has been seeking thrill after thrill, and cutting closer to the line each time. This defusing is the ultimate in nerve thrills to him, pitting himself against a corps of mechanical experts. Going back to rocket-racing and perihelion runs will be too tame. He's through, too." "You all could get a new interest in life. You shouldn't quit," said Jenna softly. "That's the worst of it," said Tom Lacy looking down at her. "I quit a long time ago. It's the starting-up that I fear." "I don't follow." "I think of Irene--and Little Fellow--and I know that when that area went up, my life ended. I've never had Harris' psychopathic hatred of the things. I've just felt that I'd like death, but want to go out doing my part. I have a life-long training against suicide per se, but I euphemize it by taunting death with the decontamination squadron." "Yes?" said Jenna. She knew more was to come. "Alone I'm all right. Then I see you and Ralph. I feel a resentment--not against you, or Ralph, but against Fate or Kismet or whatever Gods there be that they should deny me and give to you freely. It's not right that I feel this way. Life is like that." He quoted bitterly: "'Them as has, gits!'" "Tom, I swear that if it were mine to do, I'd give you all the things you lost--return them." He nodded. "Giving me wouldn't do," he said in self-reflection. "I'd want return--and that is impossible." Jenna knew well enough not to say the trite remark about Time being the Great Healer. "Poor Tom," she said gently. Maternally, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. An inner yearning touched him and opened a brief door of forgetfulness. He tightened his arms about her for a moment and as her face came up, he kissed her with a sudden warmth. In Jenna, mixed feelings, conflicting emotions burned away by his warmth. She responded instinctively and in the brief moment removed some of the torture of the lonely, hating days. Then as the mixed thoughts cleared, Lacy found himself able to think more clearly. Though still flushed, he loosened his tight hold upon her waist, and as he relaxed, Jenna changed from the yielding softness of her to a woman more remote. Her eyes opened, and her arms came down from about his neck and she stepped back, breathing fully. "Sorry, Jenna--" She laughed. It was not a laugh that meant derision; in fact it was a laugh reassuring to him, as she'd intended it to be. "Don't be sorry," she said softly. "You've committed no crime, I understand."