He shook his head. "Madmen, all of them. Insanity. It comes from heavy metal pollutants in the air—they cause brain damage."
"Be serious," Jill insisted. The people around them began to glare and shush them.
Landau took her by the arm and started pushing through the crowd. "I am being serious. It begins to look as if the end of the world is really at hand."
Jill felt a shudder go through her. She let Landau lead her out of the crowd, then toward the power ladder that went down to the living quarters. He slid his arms around her and pulled her close.
"If we have only a few days, little one, let us use them wisely."
By the time he got back to his office Kinsman realized that he could not face the evening alone. He called Diane and asked her to dinner.
In the phone's small picture screen, she seemed genuine- ly happy to hear from him. "Dinner will be fine. Why don't you come over to my place?"
He hesitated. "You're probably busy enough . . ."
With a smile, she said, "Don't be silly. I like to cook."
And she cooked quite well, Kinsman decided. Lunar food consisted almost entirely of home-grown vegetables, a precious smattering of chicken, pork, and rabbit, and an occasional luxury item such as fish or spices from Earth. Diane's dinner consisted almost entirely of soybeans in vari- ous disguises, plus a dessert of barbaric splendor: cherries jubilee.
Kinsman had brought one of his rare bottles of Burgun- dy, and they were savoring the last of it when Diane told him her news.
"Harry Pierce is going back home on the shuttle next week."
Kinsman felt his eyebrows rise. "He told you that?"
She nodded.
"He hasn't sent through a request yet."
"He will. He wants to get back to his family. All this talk of emergencies and war has him scared."
"He'd be smarter to bring his family up here." 360
"That's not the way he sees it," Diane said. "He wants to go home. And he's going to recommend me to take his place."
Kinsman felt shock. "You?"
"Me."
