"They live in villages, not too different, from yours. And in cities. And on farms."
"And yet, you like it there, don't you?" she said.
He nodded. "Yes, I like it there."
"But you don't like it here. Why?"
"If you don't understand by now, Trina, I can't explain."
They walked on. Night came swiftly, crowding the rose and purple tints out of the western sky, closing in dark and cool and sweet smelling about them. Ahead, a footbridge loomed up out of the shadows. There was the sound of running water, and, on the bank not far from the bridge, the low murmuring of a couple of late lingering fishermen.
"The people live out in the open, like this?" Trina said.
"Yes."
"Not underground? Not under a dome?"
"I've told you before that it's like Earth, Trina. About the same size, even."