"Guess I really don't know much about it," Kinsman admitted.

"But now that I think back on it, we were having our troubles in Ohio, too. I'm not an easy man to live with."

"Who the hell is?"

Colt chuckled. "You are, man. You're supercool. Never saw anybody so much in charge of himself. Like a bucket of ice water."

Ice water? Me? "You're mistaking slow reflexes for self-control."

"Yeah, I bet. Is it true you're a Quaker?"

"Used to be," he answered automatically, trying to shut 63 out the image of his father. "When I was a kid." Change the subject! "I was when that damned orbiter started moving away from us. A real Quaker."

With a laugh, Colt asked, "How come you ain't married? Good-looking, rich . . ."

"Too busy having fun. Flying, training for this . . . I've got no time for marriage. Besides, I like women too much to marry one of them."

"You wanna get laid but you don't wanna get screwed."

"Something like that. To quote the Bard, there's lots of chicks in the world."

"Yeah. Can't concentrate on a career and marriage at the same time. Leastwise, I can't."

"Not if you want to be really good at either one," Kinsman agreed. Oh, we are being so wise. And not looking at our watches. Cool, man. Supercool. But out beyond the curving bulk of the looming tanks the sky was empty except for the solemn stars.

"I don't just wanna be good," Colt was saying. "I got to be the best. I got to show these honkies that a black man is better than they are."

"You're not going to win many friends that way,"

"Don't give a shit. I'm gonna be a general someday. Then we'll see how many friends I got."

Kinsman shook his head, laughing. "A general. Jeez, you've sure got some long-range plans in your head."

"Damn right! My brother, he's all hot and fired up to be a revolutionary, Goin' around the world looking for wars to fight against oppression and injustice. Regular Lone Ranger. Wanted me to join the underground here in the States and fight for justice against The Man."

"Underground? In the States?"

"Yeah. FBI damn near grabbed him a year or so back."

"What for?"

"Hit a bank to raise money for the People's Liberation

Army."

"He's one of those?"

"Not anymore. There ain't no PLA anymore. Most of 'em are dead. The rest scattered. I watched my brother playin' cops and robbers . . . didn't look like much fun to me. 64