I said, "I told you she could handle it."

"Remind me not to overstep myself," Elmo said. Then he grinned and tapped my arm. "Bet she's mean on the horizontal. Eh?"

Damned if I did not blush. I gave him a foolish grin. It only confirmed his suspicions. What the hell. Anything would have. That is the way those things go.

We lugged Otto to my room. I thought he would puke up his guts. But he controlled himself. I checked for broken bones. He was just bruised. "All yours, Elmo," I said, for I knew the old sergeant was rehearsing a few choice words.

He took Otto by the elbow and said, "Step down to my office, soldier." He started dirt tumbling from the tunnel overheads when he explained the facts of life.

When Ardath returned she behaved as if nothing had happened. Perhaps she missed us watching. But after half an hour she asked, "Can we take a break? Go outside? Walk?"

"You want me to come?"

She nodded. "We need to talk. Privately."

"All right."

To tell the truth, whenever I lifted my nose from my work I got a little claustrophobic myself. My venture westward reminded me how good it is to stretch one's legs. "Hungry?" I asked. "Too serious to make a picnic?"

She looked startled, then charmed, by the idea. "Good. Let's do that."

So we went to the cook and baker and filled a bucket and went topside. Though she did not notice everyone smirking, I did.

There is but one door in the Hole. To the conference room, behind which Darling's personal quarters lie. Neither my quarters nor Ardath's had so much as a curtain closure. Folks figured we were off for the privacy of the wide open spaces.

Dream on. Up there there would be more spectators than down below. They just would not be human.

The sun was maybe three hours short of setting when we stepped outside, and it smacked us right in the eyes. Rough. But I expected it. Should have warned her.

We strolled up the creek, breathing slightly sagey air and saying nothing. The desert was silent. Not even Father Tree stirred. The breeze was insufficient to sigh in the coral. After a while I said, "Well?"

"I needed to get out. The walls were closing in. The null made it worse. I feel helpless down there. It preys on the mind."

"Oh."

We rounded a coral head and encountered a menhir. One of my old buddies, I guess, for he reported, "There are strangers on the Plain, Croaker."

"No lie?" Then: "Which strangers, rock?" But it had nothing more to say.

"They're always like that?"

"Or worse. Well. The null begins to fade. Feel better?"

"I felt better the moment I stepped outside. That's the gate to Hell. How can you people live like that?"

"It isn't much, but it's home."

We came to bare earth. She halted. "What's this?"