"I'm not going with you," Vic said.
"I know that," Ragle said.
"Are you going to walk out on Margo, your own sister?"
"Yes," he said.
"You're going to walk out on everybody."
"Yes," he said.
"So they can bomb us and kill us all."
"No," he said. Because after he had volunteered, left his private business and gone to work at Denver, he had learned something that the top officials of the government knew that had never been made public. It was a well-guarded secret. The lunatics, the colonists on Luna, had agreed to come to terms in the first weeks of the war. They insisted only that a sizable effort be maintained toward further colonization, and that lunatics not be subjected to punitive action after hostilities had ceased. Without Eagle Gumm the government at Denver would yield on those points. The threat of missile attacks would be enough. Public feeling against the Lunar colonists did not go that far; three years of fighting and suffering for both sides had made a difference.
Vic said, "You're a traitor." He stared at his brother-in-law. Except, Eagle thought, I'm not his brother-in-law. We're not related. I did not know him before Old Town.
Yes, he thought. I did know him. When I lived in Bend, Oregon. He operated a grocery store, there. I used to buy my fresh fruit and vegetables from him. He was always puttering about the potato bins in his white apron, smiling at the customers, worrying about spoilage. That was the extent to which we knew each other.
Nor have I got a sister.
But, he thought, I will consider them my family, because in the two years and a half at Old Town they have been a genuine family, along with Sammy. And June and Bill Black are my neighbors. I _am_ walking out on them, family and relatives, neighbors and friends. That is what civil war means. In a sense it's the most idealistic kind of war. The most heroic. It means the most sacrifices, the fewest practical advantages.
_I'm doing it because I know it is right_. It comes first, my duty. Everyone else, Bill Black and Victor Nielson and Margo and Lowery and Mrs. Keitelbein and Mrs. Kesselman -- they all have done their duty; they have been loyal to what they believe in. I intend to do the same.
Sticking out his hand he said to Vic, "Good-bye."
Vic, his face wooden, ignored him.
"Are you going back to Old Town?" Ragle said.
Vic nodded.
"Maybe I'll see you all again," Ragle said. "After the war." He did not believe that it would last much longer. "I wonder if they'll keep up Old Town," he said. "Without me in the center."
Turning, Vic walked off, away from him, to the door of the drugstore. "Any way to get out of here?" he said loudly, his back to the two of them.
"You'll be let out," Mrs. Keitelbein said. "We'll drop you off on the highway and you can arrange for a ride back to Old Town."
Vic remained by the door.
It's a shame, Ragle Gumm thought. But it has been that way for some time, now. This is nothing new.
"Would you kill me?" he said to Vic. "If you could?"
"No," Vic said. "There's always the chance you'll switch back again, to this side."
To Mrs. Keitelbein, Ragle said, "Let's go."
"Your second trip," she said. "You'll be leaving Earth again."
"That's right," Ragle said. Another lunatic joining the group already there.
Beyond the windows of the drugstore a shape tilted on its end, to launching position. Vapors boiled up from its bottom. The loading platform coasted over to it and locked in place. Halfway up the side of the ship a door opened. A man stuck his head out, blinked, strained to see in the night darkness. Then he lit a colored light.
The man with the colored light resembled Walter Keitelbein to a striking degree. As a matter of fact, he _was_ Walter Keitelbein.