|
|
|
|
|
|
gan thought. "My father was a Marine who died in a Vietcong ambush, trying to save some children stuck in a minefield. He believed in his Corps and his country, and that his way was every bit as 'correct' as your way. I don't think he would have worried about those yahoos I terminated, and I sure as hell am not going to. Ah, shit, why do I waste my time?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
He strode across the kitchen to the door, stepped through it, and slammed it behind him. The damp ocean air cooled his burning cheeks. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
What a lousy, perverse world it really is, Morgan thought. He sat down on a wooden bench near the airport fence. The November stars were shining through the thin clouds. He could just make out the shape of Orion, the Hunter, rising above the mountains of the Coast Range. How long, Morgan wondered. Since before the glaciers came and went, Orion had guarded the sky of winter, with his red eye of Betelgeuse watching and the nursery of stars at his belt. In spite of his anger with Anna, Morgan smiled. Orion and his fellow skywalkers put life on earth in proper perspective. He wondered if those monuments to human failings, wars and cold wars, were being fought out there beyond the limitless miles, astronomical units, light-years, parsecs. Lord, he thought, I hope not. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"You think I'm a foolish woman," Anna said, startling him. She had come out of the house silently, to stand behind him as he looked at the sky. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
She sat beside him. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I'm appalled at what I've set in motion." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"I know. That was a lame try at humor. Look, you can't blame yourself for what's happening," Morgan said quietly. He was acutely aware of her warmth next to him. He had to keep in mind that once she was delivered safely to Washing- |
|
|
|
|
|