on and on until reality became harsh
enough to put them down.

What if the spacefarers should return? What if some alien life form
should grow up around some other solar type star, develop space
travel, go searching for inhabitable worlds--solar type worlds--and
discover Earth with it's sleeping, unaware populace? could dreams
defend against that?

Nelson shuddered with the knowledge that he had his work cut out for
him, and awoke to his own hunger. He fished out a can and started to
open it before he remembered, and fished out another can as well. He
pressed the release on both and the tops flew off, releasing the odor
of cooking food.

He leaned over and set one can on a flat rock that was just inside his
reach, then scooted back about a foot and using his fingers, scooped
up a mouthful of his own breakfast. Half turning his head, he caught
sight of her out of the corner of his eye, about fifteen feet away,
tense and expectant but ready to spring away if she thought it was
necessary. He turned back and concentrated on eating his own
breakfast.

"This sure is good after all night," he said, after a few minutes,
making a show of gulping down a chunk of stew beef, and sucking the
gravy from his fingers. He did not look back.

"My name is Glynnis," he heard abruptly. He sensed the uncertainty in
her voice, and the--distant--hint of belligerence, but even so he
could tell it was a soft voice, musical and clear--if he could judge
after not having heard a woman's voice in so long.

"Glynnis," he said slowly. "That's a pretty name. Mine's Hal Nelson.
Like I told you last night."

"I haven't forgotten. Is that for me?" She meant the food, of course.
Hal Nelson looked around. She was still standing by the tree. She was
trying to seem at ease and making an awkward show of it.

"Yes," he told her. She took a step closer and stopped, looking at
him. He turned back to his own eating. "No need to be scared, Glynnis,
I won't hurt you." He became uncomfortably aware that she had not
spoken his name yet and he wanted her to very much.

"No." Then a brief pause before she said, "I'm not used to anybody."

"It isn't good to be alone out here with the animals and food so hard
to come by--and the patrol searching for wakers. You ever have any
brush with the patrol?"

She had come up and was eating now; her answer came between eager
mouthfuls. "I seen them once. They didn't know I saw them--or they
would have caught me and t