"You ought to be here in winter," Saari was saying. "It really blows then. And there are the rainstorms, and snow...."
"Snow?" Trina said blankly.
"Certainly. A couple of feet of it, usually." Saari stopped talking and looked at Trina, and surprise crept even farther into her face. "You mean you don't have snow on your world?"
"Why, yes, we have snow. We have everything Earth had." But snow two feet deep ... Trina shivered, thinking of winter on the world, and the soft dusting of white on winter mornings, the beautiful powdery flakes cool in the sunlight.
"They have about a sixteenth of an inch of it," Max said. "And even that's more than some of the worlds have. It hardly ever even rains in New California."
Saari turned away finally, and the others did too. The car started, the sound of its motors shutting out the wind a little, and then they were moving. Yet it was even more frightening, rushing over the roads in the darkness, with the houses flashing past and the trees thrashing in the wind and the people briefly seen and then left behind in the night.
The ship was ahead. The ship. Now even it seemed a safe, familiar place.
"This isn't like Earth after all," Trina said bitterly. "And it seemed so beautiful at first."
Then she saw that Saari MacGregor was looking at her again, but this time more in pity than in surprise.
"Not like Earth, Trina? You're wrong. We have a better climate than Earth's. We never have blizzards, nor hurricanes, and it's never too cold nor too hot, really."