"Yes," Johnny Nine choked.
The Earthmen fell silent, ringing him in.
"Yes," he said, "I'll tell them. I'll tell them Earth's air is poison, and her water, and her land." His voice was hollow. "I'll tell them that."
He staggered toward the space port, blindly.
"We're sorry."
Johnny Nine looked at them, the ring of friendly, kindly, sad faces.
"So—are—we," he said very slowly.
He stepped into the lock, and, when the outer door opened, he popped away from the pilot ship.
He floated toward the Ship that was Home.
How am I going to tell them? he asked himself. How am I going to tell them?