would be attentive, watching closely while he pushed seeds into the earth, helping when he directed her, although she rarely volunteered. Then she would begin to stand with her bare foot on his, to put her hand in his pocket, to chatter and push him to attract his attention, to sneak her arms about him and chew gently on his shoulder. Sometimes when he would push her away she would snarl and squawl at him, other times, she would stand with her lip pushed out and her eyes blinking so that he was near tears himself. He listened for the rocket with eager unhappiness.

In the ninth month, without warning, she bit the tip off his ear. The impetus of the pain swung his fist against her mouth. When she stumbled to her feet, she tore off her dress, spitting blood and hatred, and fled into the woods. He watched her go with mixed feelings.

In the afternoon, when he began to gather the peaches, he could feel her burning gaze, but he gave no sign. When mealtime came, he did not call her and she did not come, although he glimpsed her once through the alien trees.

Silently he mashed the peaches in five-gallon cans, then welded the tops on. He found useful copper tubes in the junk of the _Ventura_ venture. But the world was for waiting. Perhaps the spaceship would come first. It was strange, he reflected, that no other ships had paused. The Sirius System was supposed to be a sure thing.

The girl took her meals with him again, but there was a razor edge between them. She watched silently when he cut open the swollen cans and poured off the top liquid. Idly she rubbed dirt in her hair while he set the distiller perking. She whined when he wouldn't go her any.

Soon the freeze box room shimmered with colored lights, New Chicago, with copters honking and girls hurrying along the mobo-walk in striped woolen slacks, very tight, and high plastic hats, the latest style. They were smiling and the world was flowing by, but the nameless girl sat quietly, blocking out the Radfriend Building and three bars, much too large, right smack in the middle of it.

"Get out of the panorama," he yelled, and she stared at him, large-eyed. "No, come sit with daddy," he smirked, but she made no move.

When he lunged at her, she fled silently, and he bumped his head on the wall; the blow did not sober him but turned his thoughts so that he concentrated very hard on being steady as he swung the axe against the still and the unopened cans until the room flowed 

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