"The skydome."
She glanced up thoughtfully. "Of course it's blue. And this is not one of your artificial skys. This is the real thing. There's no artificial weather control out here, you know. You get natural sunlight, natural winds, storms, rain—oh, lots of things."
"Gahh," said Hal.
"What makes you surprised at finding that the sky is blue?"
"Probably because I never saw it before. The only time I ever heard of its being anything other than green was when an engineer we have working for us at the factory said it was blue."
"Well, never mind the sky. Let's find some place where we can get a little shelter for the night." She began to lead him slowly along an animal trail to a cluster of trees on a nearby stream. She walked with the obviously delayed pace one takes with invalids, but Hal had a difficult time keeping up.
Finally, she said, "Here's a pretty good place. Sit down next to that tree. You must be worn out."
"Oooo," he groaned, reclining back against a broad, rough oak trunk, then stiffening painfully away from it again. "It doesn't fit," he mourned plaintively.
"Now you're sounding silly again," she scolded. "Go on, lean back. There aren't any suspend-field lounges out here for you, so you take what you get."
Obediently, he relaxed against the rough, twisting bark. He was very, very tired. On second thought, even this rugged seat was comfortable. He sighed heavily, and then looked pensively around again. "Oh well, what does it matter? We'll be dead soon."