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mine.'"
"He's like that."
"But everyone is like that here. At least, that's how it seems. Even when
you want to explain, you don't. You just say 'Follow me' and head off into a
storm. A few sentences about how cold it is, and you think that explains
something."
Gerswin sighed, scuffed the clay with his right foot.
"I'll try to put it in perspective. Old Earth is something you experience.
You don't explain it. How could you? People think that it's just like the
histapes, except nothing will grow, and some fertilizer and a little
technology sprinkled over the clay will do it.
"How can you explain landspouts that rip the tops off hills, that turn
all-weather flitters into crushed metal in microseconds? You try, and someone
says that it's just a tornado. But it's not. There were ten ^million people
within three hundred kays of here right before the collapse. Maybe three
hundred shambletowners and a couple dozen devilkids left. Not a single
building or a ruin more than a meter high left standing. Place flattened by
the spouts, except in one or two valleys.
"You try to tell someone, and they say that it was just the collapse. You
stand here, and you don't believe me when I say it's summer. Winter here . . .
You think it's cold on the poles of Charon? Winter ice rain will sand off
three mills of metal from a flitter in a single flight on the exposed side,
and that's just on ground or stationary time."
Gerswin looked over at the captain, who did not raise her eyes from the
ground.
"Right now, more than twenty percent of the pilots sent here are
casualties. Those who make it through become the best in the Service, and you
can check their records if you doubt it. That's the young ones. Older pilots
avoid flying around here. Better for them and us.
"Get a good dozen cases of toxic shock every year, just from the hot spots
no one has found. But it's not glamorous, like scout duty or combat.
"The rain's so acid that outside uniforms don't last a tour, and you should
know what replacement costs mean to a junior officer.
"But that's the story no one tells. How could anyone on New Augusta believe
that Man's home planet is dangerous to Man's existence?"
Gerswin laughed once, and the bitterness echoed against the whistle of the
rising wind.
"Why are you here?" Her voice was nearly lost in the wind, so softly had
she spoken.
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"Another question. Most people here believe there's something to save.
Something that should be saved."
"I think that's what you believe. This is nowhere. Oh, yes, it's Old Earth,
and the home of Man. But everyone here is either local, a problem child, or on
a pre-retirement tour.
"Can't you see it. Lieutenant? The great crusade to save the home planet
was over before it began."
"Is it? Just got three arcdozers on the ship that brought you. Decon teams
have cleaned up most of the toxic hot spots around the headwaters of the two
nearest rivers on this side of the continental divide. Starting on the big one
now. Years before the results come in, but it's a start."
"Nobody on New Augusta really cares. The new Emperor ..."
"Long as they keep funding, we'll keep plodding."
"You're just like Major Matsuko."
Gerswin shook his head, then noticed the whiteness at the tip of her ears.
"Time to go in. Frostbite."
"We haven't been out that long. And you only wore your uniform."
"That's me. Not you. Face a bit numb? Ears?"
"Yes, but-"
"Inside." He took her left arm and firmly guided her back to the portal.
Once inside, he helped her take off the heavy, ice-encrusted jacket and
placed the jacket and gloves in the heated equipment locker.
The Imperial auditor half-shivered, half-shook herself. "Is there any place
to sit down and relax, get a cup of cafe or liftea?"
"J.O.'s lounge, off the mess."
"That sounds fine. Is it warm?"
"Same as anywhere else."
He tapped the inner portal release, and they stepped through, Gerswin
leading the way up the tunnel until it intersected the outer perimeter
corridor. Gerswin turned right, quick steps clicking on the smooth floor.
Neither said a word until Gerswin stopped at the lounge portal and touched
the access plate.
"After you. Captain."
"Dara, please."
Instead of replying, he inclined his head momentarily as if posing himself
a question. He did not answer the unthought question, but followed her
through.
He went straight to the sideboard.
"Cafe?"
"Liftea."
He poured two and set both mugs on the narrow table where Dara sat. He
seated himself across from her.
"You're from where?"
"Here. Local. First, last, and only, so far. Except for some of the kids
from the civilian techs on the farm."
"The farm?"
"That's what they call the research center south of here."
She put a forefinger to her chin, then dropped it as a furrow appeared
momentarily in her forehead.
"Wasn't there a report-"
"-about the training and education of an Old Earth native. Yes. There was.
I was. Education Review, New Augusta, Volume 87, number three, if you want to
look it up. End of subject."
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