From the Ocean from teh Stars by Arthur C. Clarke Page A

have spoken to her.
    A little more of his contentment ebbed as he realized that Indra must feel sorry for him and must wonder, like everyone else, exactly what had happened to him. He would not, he told himself bitterly, accept a love that was founded on pity.
    Indra seemed unaware of his sudden brooding silence and the conflict that now disturbed his mind. She was busy filling the little stove by a somewhat primitive method that involved siphoning fuel out of the hy- drojet's tank, and Franklin was so amused by her repeated failures that he forgot his momentary annoyance. When at last she had managed to light the stove, they lay back under the palms, munching sandwiches and waiting for the water to boil. The sun was already far down the sky, and Franklin realized that they would probably not get back to Heron Island until well after nightfall. However, it would not be dark, for the moon was nearing full, so even without the aid of the local beacons the home ward journey would present no difficulties.
    The billy-brewed tea was excellent, though doubtless far too anemic for any old-time swagman. It washed down the remainder of their food very efficiently, and as they relaxed with sighs of satisfaction their hands once again found each other. Now, thought Franklin, I should be per fectly content. But he knew that he was not; something that he could not define was worrying him.
    His unease had grown steadily stronger during the last few minutes, but he had tried to ignore it and force it down into his mind. He knew that it was utterly ridiculous and irrational to expect any danger here, on this empty and peaceful island. Yet little warning bells were ringing far down in the labyrinths of his brain, and he could not understand their signals.
    Indra's casual question came as a welcome distraction. She was star ing intently up into the western sky, obviously searching for something.
    "Is it really true, Walter," she asked, "that if you know where to look for her you can see Venus in the daytime? She was so bright after sunset last night that I could almost believe it."
    "It's perfectly true," Franklin answered. "In fact, it isn't even diffi cult. The big problem is to locate her in the first place; once you've done that, she's quite easy to see."
    He propped himself up against a palm trunk, shaded his eyes from the glare of the descending sun, and began to search the western sky with little hope of discovering the elusive silver speck he knew to be shining there. He had noticed Venus dominating the evening sky during the last
    few weeks, but it was hard to judge how far she was from the sun when both were above the horizon at the same time.
    Suddenly—unexpectedly—his eyes caught and held a solitary silver star hanging against the milky blue of the sky. "I've found her!" he exclaimed, raising his arm as a pointer. Indra squinted along it, but at first could see nothing.
    "You've got spots before the eyes," she taunted.
    "No—I'm not imagining things. Just keep on looking," Franklin answered, his eyes still focused on the dimensionless star which he knew he would lose if he turned away from it even for a second.
    "But Venus can't be there," protested Indra. "That's much too far north."
    In a single, sickening instant Franklin knew that she was right. If he had any doubt, he could see now that the star he was watching was moving swiftly across the sky, rising out of the west and so defying the laws which controlled all other heavenly bodies.
    He was staring at the Space Station, the largest of all the satellites now circling Earth, as it raced along its thousand-mile-high orbit. He tried to turn his eyes away, to break the hypnotic spell of that man-made, unscintillating star. It was as if he was teetering on the edge of an abyss; the terror of those endless, trackless wastes between the worlds began to invade and dominate his mind, to threaten the very foundations of his sanity.
    He would have won the struggle, no more than a