The First Day of Spring. Wolf Mari
samples. No vegetation, no minerals…"
"Not even air samples," Aaron Gomez said softly. "Why?"
Bernard sighed. "We didn't want to wait," he said. "We wanted to get back here, to tell you."
"It may be a paradise world to you," Elias said. "But to us…"
Max Cramer tightened his grip on Trina's hand. "The fools," he said. "Talking and talking, and all the time this world drifts farther and farther away."
"It takes so much power to change course," Trina said. "And besides, you feel it. It makes you heavy."
She remembered the stories her father used to tell, about his own youth, when he and Curt Elias had turned the world to go to a planet the spaceman found. A planet with people – people who lived under glass domes, or deep below the formaldehyde poisoned surface.
"You could be there in two weeks, easily, even at your world's speed," Captain Bernard said.
"And then we'd have to go out," Elias said. "Into space."
The worldmen nodded. The women looked at each other and nodded too. One of the spacemen swore, graphically, and there was an embarrassed silence as Trina's people pretended not to have heard.
"Oh, let's get out of here." The spaceman who had sworn swore again, just as descriptively, and then grinned at the councilmen and their aloof, blank faces. "They don't want our planet. All right. Maybe New Chile…"
"Wait!" Trina said it without thinking, without intending to. She stood speechless when the others turned to face her. All the others. Her people and Max's. Curt Elias, leaning forward again, smiling at her.
"Yes, Trina?" the councilman said.
"Why don't we at least look at it? Maybe it is – what they say."
Expression came back to their faces then. They nodded at each other and looked from her to Max Cramer and back again at her, and they smiled. Festival time, their eyes said. Summer evenings, summer foolishness.
And festival time long behind them, but soon to come again.
"Your father went to space," Elias said. "We saw one of those worlds the spacemen talk of."
"I know."
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