The record caught and started repeating the last line.
He hadn't actually wanted to play it. It had been an automatic response. He had played it lots of times before when he had thought of Earth. Of going home.
He crossed over and threw the record across the bunker and watched it shatter on the steel wall and the pieces fall to the floor.
The others came back in the bunker and the men of the Second started grabbing their bags and few belongings and getting ready to leave. Dahl sat in a corner, a peculiar expression on his face. He looked as if he wanted to cry and yet still felt that the occasion was one for rejoicing.
Chapman walked over to him. "Get your stuff and leave with the others, Dahl." His voice was quiet and hard.
Dahl looked up, opened his mouth to say something, and then shut up. Donley and Bening and Dowden were already in the airlock, ready to leave. Klein caught the conversation and came over. He gripped Chapman's arm.
"What the hell's going on, Chap? Get your bag and let's go. I know just the bistro to throw a whing-ding when we get—"
"I'm not going back," Chapman said.
Klein looked annoyed, not believing him. "Come on, what's the matter with you? You suddenly decide you don't like the blue sky and trees and stuff? Let's go!"
The men in the lock were looking at them questioningly. Some members of the Third looked embarrassed, like outsiders caught in a family argument.