In the meantime he was pleased with the warm night and the still more pleasing company of his water brother.

``Okay, take the tray. I'll switch on the underwater lights. That'll be plenty to eat by.''

``Fine.'' Mike liked having light up through the ripples; it was a goodness, beauty. They picnicked by the pool, then lay back on the grass and looked at stars.

``Mike, there's Mars. It is Mars, isn't it? Or Antares?''

``It is Mars.''

``Mike? What are they doing on Mars?''

He hesitated; the question was too wide for the sparse English language. ``On the side toward the horizon -- the southern hemisphere -- it is spring; plants are being taught to grow.''

``' Taught to grow'?''

He hesitated. ``Larry teaches plants to grow. I have helped him. But my people -- Martians, I mean; I now grok you are my people -- teach plants another way. In the other hemisphere it is growing colder and nymphs, those who stayed alive through the summer, are being brought into nests for quickening and more growing.'' He thought. ``Of the humans we left at the equator, one has discorporated and the others are sad.''

Yes, I heard it in the news ``.

Mike had not heard it; he had not known it until asked. ``They should not be sad. Mr. Booker T. W. Jones Food Technician First Class is not sad; the Old Ones have cherished him.''

``You knew him?''

``Yes. He had his own face, dark and beautiful. But he was homesick.''