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He was again surprised when Father bought tickets. "Where are we going?"
"A ride in the country." The Captain glanced at his watch. "Plenty of time."
The monorail gave a fine sensation of speed. "How fast are we going. Father?"
"Two hundred kilometers an hour, at a guess." Krausa had to raise his voice.
"It seems faster."
"Fast enough to break your neck. That's as fast as a speed can be."
They rode for half an hour. The countryside was torn up by steel mills and factories for the great yards, but it was new and different; Thorby stared and decided that the Sargon's reserve was a puny enterprise compared with this. The station where they got off lay outside a long, high wall; Thorby could see space ships beyond it. "Where are we?"
"Military field. I have to see a man -- and today there is just time." They walked toward a gate. Krausa stopped, looked around; they were alone. "Thorby --"
"Yes, Father?"
"Do you remember the message from Baslim you delivered to me?"
"Sir?"
"Can you repeat it?"
"Huh? Why, I don't know. Father. It's been a long time."
"Try it. Start in: To Captain Fjalar Krausa, master of Starship Sisu, from Baslim the Cripple: Greetings, old friend! -- ' "
" ' "Greetings, old friend," ' " Thorby repeated. " 'Greetings to your family, clan, and sib, and' -- why, I understand it!"
"Of course," the Krausa said gently, "this is the Day of Remembrance
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