'So the rest of the crew, myself included, came back from our little
nap to find our world ravaged, Christian dead, and the Commander aged
twenty-five years. The poor compassionate bastard had kept himself
conscious all that extra time, making sure the orbit wouldn't decay,
that the converted solar panels and other adjustments he'd made would
hold up. Probably would have died for us if he thought it would
help.....
'You've seen the worst in us, Kalus. But that damn Swede over
there . .is the best. And a lot of others like him paid the same price
as the political cowboys, and blind hedonists who elected them. Death.
'So. That's the long and short of it. We dealt with our feelings
and our fears as best we could, and landed here, for a variety of
reasons, just over a year ago. We found William underground, and
apparently you found us. So maybe our efforts aren't entirely
futile. And who's to say, there may be others scattered around the
planet, each feeling as isolated and cut off as we do.'
He concluded as frankly as he had begun. 'But now I'm heartily
sick of standing here and telling you our troubles, and I should hope
you're as tired of hearing them. Apologies to the meek, and you see
the kind of ‘Earth' you've inherited. We'll let the
customary interval of moody silence pass, and then we'll begin our
scientific questioning.
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