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He wanted to grab his toolbox and go out to the fence, but his solitary bed, nestled beneath a sheltering bough of drip-dried underwear, called to him in a voice that his suddenly heavy muscles couldn't ignore.
I'll just sit for a moment, he told himself. The water mattress sloshed pleasantly under his buttocks as he settled his weight into it. He rarely noticed until he was tired, but Avalon's gravity put an extra ten pounds on him every second of his life.
The waning sunlight cast deep shadows in the room, here and there glinting on the shelves and boxes that held the last remnants of another life. Everything he had been was in this room. The hundred and sixty people who made up the crew and passengers of the Geographic were his only family and friends.
It wasn't much, but it was enough. Enough, because the behaviorists and sociologists and colony pla
His world. The silver-gilt college trophies, reminders of victories in Debate and Track and Wrestling, were holograms. Hologram images of smiling women whose warm lips and smooth bodies left frustratingly little impression on his memory. How long had they been dead? Thirty years? Forty?
They'd been pla
There were disks of favorite movies—his personal collection, though in principle they were part of the camp library. There, a shifting hologram of his command post in Central Africa. A peacekeeping force, nothing more, until the revolutions. "Sergeant Major Mvubi! We're moving out!"
"Sir!"
We were needed. Then.
His clothing was all nonsynthetics that might take a generation to replace. How long would it be until they thawed out the silkworms and the mulberry bushes for them to feed on? Not exactly a high priority item...
He didn't remember closing his eyes, but when he opened them he was lying down, and the sun had set. Cadman grabbed his toolbox and a folding stool and hustled from the room. Getting old is one thing, dammit! Senility will just have to wait.
Chapter 2
ON THE BEACH
Glory to Man in the Highest! For Man is the master of things.
ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE, "Hymn to Man"
A jeep roared by, full of colonists who were full of beer. "Grab some wheels and we'll race you to the beach!" Cadma
Electric lights were wavering to life around the camp as workers changed shifts. The party atmosphere was infectious. Avalon's inadequate twin moons would smile on a beachful of frolicking spacefarers.
The folding stool's seat was several centimeters too small, but as he bent to the task of repairing and refastening the wire, he forgot the discomfort.
Avalon's moons cast double, divergent shadows with their bluish glow, and the stars were brilliantly sharp and clear. No crickets. And along about evening the nightbirds aren't begi
Cadma
Do they still stand retreat at the Academy? Cadets in archaic uniforms standing in rigid rows, plebes telling jokes in hopes of making upperclassmen laugh and be seen by the officers... sunset guns, bands, the Anthem, the flag lowered slowly to the beat of drums... He attached the leads from the voltmeter. The needle jumped into the red. Done.
Mist had rolled in from the sea. The stars were gone; the moons were wavery blobs. Cadma
A calf on the far side of the wire grunted longingly and shuffled over, looking at him with huge, liquid eyes. Cadma
"No mother, eh, girl? Must be tough not to have a mommy cow to love you." Its tongue was rough and warm, and it moved more urgently now as it tried to suckle at his hand.
Cadma
The other animals moved toward him. They stood together in clumps. A filly whi
"What's bothering you, girl?"
The feeding stalls were enclosed by the electric fences and narrow walkways. Cadma
Night came suddenly. Both moons were at half stage: bright enough, but they left pools of dark shadows through the barnyard, some of them back by the dog pen. There were ten young German shepherds in the pen, and their ears were flattened against their heads. They growled deep in their throats, teeth bared in the moonlight.
"Hello?" There was no answer. "Who the hell is out there?" There was nothing, in the pens or beyond in the deep shadows leading to the bluff. The sound of the panicked animals was a rattling cacophony. Cadma
What in the hell was going on? He looked back at the animal pens. The German shepherds, dogs bred for their loyalty and intelligence, were going berserk. The wildest of them was also the eldest, a nearly full-sized bitch who was actually biting at the electrified fence, touching it and recoiling, returning again and again.
Cadma
He left the gate open long enough for Sheena to get out, then grabbed the fur at the scruff of her neck when she tried to run ahead. These dogs need training. It's time. She growled low in her throat. The others barked furiously. Sheena strained ahead.
All the animals were yowling now. Darkened windows behind him filled with light.
"What son of a bitch is screwing with those dogs?"
"Zee virgin, she is mine!"
Another light blinked on. A male voice bellowed, "Hey, you! I just got to sleep. Will you for Christ's-? Oh. Cadma
"Sure, Neal. Sony."
The window slammed. The dog strained at his hold on her mane. "Easy, girl-" Cadma
"Cadma
Cadma