 Why did Opal let Rog go back to Earth?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction December 1950. If it only had a lease that could be broken— Roger Tennant, crossing the lawn, could see two of the three wings of the house, which radiated spoke-like from its heptagonal central portion. The wing on the left was white, with slim square pillars, reminiscent of scores of movie sets of the Deep South. Above it her comely face was sullen beneath its sleek cocoon of auburn hair. Their captors had no idea of how a woven design should behave. "I don't even want to think about him," said Tennant. He could sense the restless stirring of the woman within Dana, just as he could feel the stirring toward her within himself—desire that both of them loathed because it was implanted within them by their captors. Within the dome of the barrier, it looked more like a well-kept if bizarre little country estate. They entered the house, which had no roof, continued to move beneath a sky that glowed with light which did not come from a sun or moon. Eudalia, who had borne twin girls recently, was lying back, newly thin and dark of skin and hair, smoking a scentless cigarette. Eudalia had been a female foreman in a garment-cutting shop before being captured and brought through. Tennant wanted to put an encouraging hand on her shoulder, to say something that might cheer her up, for she was by far the youngest of the three female captives, barely nineteen. But with the eyes of the other two, especially Dana, upon him, he could not. "Lay off—he can't help it," said Eudalia unexpectedly. "But he doesn't have to—have them," objected Olga. In fact, Tennant thought, only her laughter was unpleasant, a shrill, uncontrolled burst of staccato sound that jarred him to his heels. It arrived before the meal, materializing against one of the seven walls of the roofless chamber. Dana stood almost in the center of the room, carmine-tipped fingers clasped beneath the swell of her breasts. Somehow it brings things closer...." This was so with all of their foods, with their cigarettes, with everything in their prison—or their cage. Their captors were utterly without a human conception of smell, living, apparently, in a world without odor at all. "He didn't ask to come here any more than we did. "Rog," said Dana, looking suddenly scared, "I'm sorry I snapped at you.
 because the aliens weren't good at capturing other men
 so he would fall out of love with his wife  so he could try to escape and fail  because the aliens weren't good at capturing other men  as a reward for his hard work