The first few seconds of the ensuing sounds drove Art to turn off the vidscreen. No wonder it was banned, he thought. That’s not censorship, it’s good taste.
Rather than return to his previous futile (and frustrating) train of thought, he went to the dining nook and gazed out over the park, trying to overcome his lingering uneasiness with all that open space. He’d have to learn to deal with it if he were going to live on this planet—and it seemed highly unlikely he would be returning to the Mayflower II.
He thought of the approaching ship hurling a matter-antimatter missile at the city he saw beyond the flower-draped wall, and anger surged inside him again, this time aimed at the blind fools who had put such weapons into the supposed lifeboat of the species. No wonder the Peregrine gover
