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That might have been lost on the Lizard. After some thought, the reporter used the affirmative gesture. “I think perhaps I may. But the Admiral Peary is old news. I am sure of that. I want new news.” He hurried away.

“Old news,” Jonathan said in English. He sighed. It wasn’t that the Lizard was wrong. In fact, there was the problem: the male was right. The Americans from the Admiral Peary were old news, in more ways than one. Had Major Nichols heard the reporter, she would have agreed with him.

Jonathan found himself hoping the none-too-bright Lizard did end up running into Nicole Nichols. He would infuriate her, and she would horrify him. As far as Jonathan was concerned, they deserved each other.

One of the elevators opened up. Tom de la Rosa came out. Jonathan waved to him. Tom came over. Jonathan said, “Beware of idiot Lizard reporters running around loose.”

“Sounds like a good thing to beware of,” Tom agreed. “And speaking of bewares, have you talked with the gal from the Commodore Perry?”

“I sure have-I just finished lunch with her, in fact. I gave her the petition, too.” Jonathan set a hand on Tom’s shoulder for a moment. “Thanks for signing it.”

De la Rosa shrugged. “Hey, what else could I do? Right is right. Those yahoos have no business marooning your old man here.”

“You know that, and I know that, but I’ll be damned if I’m sure they know that,” Jonathan said. “And you know you’re taking a chance with that thing. They’re liable to call us on it. If they do, none of us goes home from Home.”

“Yeah, well…” Tom shrugged again. “Linda and I hashed that one out. If they’re the kind of stiff-necked bastards who won’t bend even when they ought to, I don’t think I want to go back to the USA any more. It wouldn’t be my country, you know? The company’d be better here.”

Tears stung Jonathan’s eyes. He blinked several times; he didn’t want Tom to see that. Pride, he thought, and laughed at himself. “We can be expatriates sitting in the sleazy bars in Sitneff, and all the earnest young American tourists who come here can stare at us and wonder about all the nasty things we’ve done.”

“There you go!” Tom laughed out loud. “The Lost Generation. Hell, we’re already the Lost Generation. If you don’t believe me, ask anybody from the Commodore Perry. Those people are convinced we’ve got no business being alive any more.”

“You’d better believe it!” Jonathan used the catch phrase with sour glee. “Major Nichols told Dad they tried to get here before we did. Wouldn’t that have been a kick in the nuts for us?”

“Oh, yeah. Sweet Jesus, yeah.” De la Rosa made a horrible face. “We’d’ve been like the dead atheist decked out in a suit: all dressed up with no place to go.”

“As it is, we get into the history books whether our ungrateful grandchildren like it or not,” Jonathan said, and Tom nodded. Jonathan’s thoughts traveled the light-years far faster than the Commodore Perry could hope to. “I do wonder what things are like back on Earth.”

“Well, from what I’ve been able to pick up, the politics are the same old yak-yak-yak,” de la Rosa said. “The ecology…” He looked revolted. “It’s about as bad as we figured it would be. Lots and lots of species from Home crowding out ours wherever it’s hot and dry. Earth isn’t the place it was when we left.”

Jonathan sighed. “Like you say, it’s not a hot headline. I don’t know how we’re going to be able to put that genie back in the bottle again. The place I feel sorry for is Australia.” He used an emphatic cough. “It’s had its ecology turned upside down twice in two hundred years.”

“Isn’t that the sad and sorry truth?” Tom said. “You hate to see something like that, because there’s just no way in hell to repair the damage. Too many native species have already gone extinct, and more are going all the time. When you add in rabbits and rats and cats and cane toads and cattle and azwaca and zisuili and befflem… And plants are just as bad, or maybe worse.”

“I know. I don’t know the way you do-you’re the expert-but I’ve got the basic idea,” Jonathan said, and de la Rosa nodded. “I hope we get to see for ourselves, that’s all.”

“Me, too.” De la Rosa looked fierce. His piratical mustache helped. “If we don’t, I’m going to blame you. And I’ll have all the time in the world to do it, too, because we’ll both be stuck here for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, if we start throwing missiles back and forth with the Lizards, that won’t be real long,” Jonathan said. Tom looked unhappy, not because he was wrong but because he was right. He went on, “Of course, that’s liable to be just as true back on Earth as it is here.”

“You think the Lizards can still hurt us back on Earth?” Tom asked. “People from the Commodore Perry don’t seem to.”

“I’m not sure. I’m not sure anybody else is sure, either,” Jonathan answered. “I’ll tell you this, though, for whatever you think it’s worth: the last time Major Nichols came out of a meeting with Atvar, she’d had some of that up-yours knocked out of her. Whatever he told her, it didn’t make her very happy. Maybe the Race has figured out how to do something, even if they’ve got to do it in slow motion.”

“I almost wouldn’t mind-almost,” Tom emphasized. “Where one side figures it can lick the other one easy as pie, that’s where your wars come from. If both sides figure they’ll get hurt, they’re more likely to take it easy on each other.”

Jonathan nodded. “That makes more sense than I wish it did.” He thought back to Earth again. “Before too long, maybe it won’t matter so much. We’ll have colonies all over the place. Eggs and baskets, you know what I mean?”

“Oh, hell, yes,” Tom de la Rosa said. “We will, and one of these days maybe the Lizards will, too, if we don’t kill each other off first. And the Germans will, and the Russians, and the Japanese…”

“Lord!” That took some more contemplating. Jonathan said, “I hope the Nazis and the Reds don’t end up with colonies on the same planet. They’d start banging away at each other, same as they were doing when the conquest fleet came.”

“Yeah, that‘d be fun, wouldn’t it?” Tom said.

Jonathan nodded, though fun wasn’t what either of them had in mind. He said, “The Nazis owe the Race one, too. If I were a Lizard, I’d worry about that.”

“If you were a Lizard, you’d have other things to worry about, like not looking right,” Tom pointed out. Jonathan made a face at him. People had much more mobile features than Lizards did. The Race used hand gestures to get across a lot of things humans did with their faces and heads. De la Rosa went on, “I wonder how Kassquit feels about being pregnant now. This isn’t the best time to bring a kid into the world-any world.”

“She’ll do okay, I think,” Jonathan said. “There’s always been more to her than meets the eye.” And even if she is knocked up, I had nothing to do with it, and Karen can’t say I did, he thought.

Kassquit did not enjoy Dr. Melanie Blanchard’s examinations, which was putting it mildly. The wild Big Ugly had warned she would poke and prod, and she did, in Kassquit’s most intimate places. For that matter, Kassquit enjoyed next to nothing about being gravid, which was also putting it mildly. She wanted to sleep all the time. Her breasts were constantly sore. And she went on vomiting. Dr. Blanchard called that morning sickness, but it could strike her at any time of the day or night.

Hoping to distract the doctor from her probings and pushings, Kassquit asked, “What possible evolutionary good is there in these disgusting symptoms?”

“I do not know.” Dr. Blanchard wasn’t distracted a bit. Kassquit hadn’t really thought she would be. “I do not believe anyone else does. It is a good question, though.”

“I thank you so very much.” Kassquit packed as much irony as she could into her voice.

Instead of getting angry, Melanie Blanchard laughed a loud Tosevite laugh. “I am sorry not to be able to give you more help about this,” she said. “Some doctors claim that women who have morning sickness are less likely to produce a hatchling that cannot survive than those who do not, but I am not sure this has been proved.”