The Un-Reconstructed Woman

At first Paul wished fervently for the return of the Doric. But now ... now that he was getting to know and understand this strange, blue-tressed vision????
A few long bones in the fallen leaves with the shadows of the tree dancing, a glint of gold where the jawbone sat beneath the nameless tree—
Look at the char marks on that rib! the young man exclaimed. So they had heat guns back then.
That wasn't so long ago. The old man peered up at Paul's face. They stole 'em from a government arsenal. That's how they was able to massacre so many colonies. That wasn't so long ago. I watched that man drive his uniharvester out of the ship. I even remember that gold tooth shining in his mouth.
But this is an Earth tree, a peach maybe; they planted it; look how tremendous it's grown. He liked to tease the old man. It took a long, long time.
It seemed to be the only Earth-life that remained. But a mouse rustled through the leaves and confounded Paul. And he did not see the old man staring beyond the tree, jaw open.
And the old man was hesitant to tell Paul what he had seen.
As they climbed the opposite hill that hid the ship Paul kicked questioningly at the drums that had contained nitrogen-fixing bacteria. He raised the rusty hood of the tractor. He stopped and went into the shed again, a lot of freeze boxes in there. The way the mines on the outer planets were booming, no fresh vegetables for them, these people would have been rich by now.
As he ran past the old man, his voice rang loud in that silent world: I could fix that generator.
Its power pile had given his chest geiger a friendly buzz. If his brother Harry was alive—
Over the hill the spaceship poised like a monument.
To every man who ever died away from home, Paul thought as he ran over the leaves. Harry brother, there she stands, boy.