"I seen you coming down, so I followed you. I wanted to talk to you alone. And when I seen you comin' down here, I said, 'Now, Sam, here's your chance to talk to Johnny.'" "Yes, Sam?" "Go ahead, Johnny, sit down." Johnny Nine crossed to a crate that still contained parts for the atomic motor and sat down. "All right, Sam. Go ahead." Sam shuffled his feet. "I don't know how to start, hardly. Look, Johnny. Tell me something. True. You will, won't you?" "Yes, Sam, I will. You know that." "Sure, I know you will. Why, don't I remember when you was just a little tyke, how you used to come down to the gardens and watch old Sam? And I said, then, that if ever there's a boy that gives you a straight answer, that's Johnny Nine. "I remember you sayin', once, 'Sam,' you said, 'you've to one blue eye and one brown.'" Sam smiled. "Right out you said it. An' you know, that's right. I have. Nobody else would have told me so, because they were afraid of hurting my feelings. But why should I mind that I've got one blue eye and one brown one? Funny, how other folks think you mind, when really you don't.... "Look, Johnny. About the gardens. I'm getting old--uh-uh, don't say it: I am and you know I am. Lately, folks have been comin' around helpin' me out. They let on that they're just there lookin', but they help me, and I know it. Is it because I'm gettin' old, Johnny?" "Sam, you're like the Captain. Good for another twenty years." "Now, Johnny, answer old Sam straight." Johnny Nine hesitated. "Well," he admitted, "you aren't as young as some of us, Sam. But that doesn't mean you're old. I mean, really old." Johnny Nine turned his head so Sam could not see his face. Sam cleared his throat. "Look, Johnny!" He held out a tiny bottle. Johnny Nine glanced around. "Where did you get that?" he demanded angrily when he saw the bottle. "That's all right. Old Sam's got ways. An' he'll be takin' it any day now. You just say the word, Johnny." "Did somebody give that to you?" Johnny Nine demanded sharply. "No. Nobody gave it to me. Old Sam's had this bottle for years. Just waitin', Johnny. Just waitin'. For somebody to say the word." "Give it to me!" Sam snatched back the bottle. "No!" His weak old eyes showed traces of fire. "No. Old Sam's--" "Sam," Johnny Nine said gently, "we're almost Home, Sam, almost _Home_." Sam laughed bitterly. He shook his head. "No, Johnny. Can't fool old Sam. 'Course folks _say_ we are. But I _know_. Old Sam knows. I'll be drinkin' this any day now." "Sam, listen. In four--" He bit his tongue before he could say 'months'. That superstition. "In a little while, we'll be Home. It's true, Sam, I wouldn't lie." Sam's eyes brightened. "You ain't foolin' me?" "No, Sam." * * * * *