"Did she tell you?" he asked in a numb voice. "They hope to save maybe half the population. All the children anyhow...."
"They won't," said Riki bitterly.
"Better go transcribe the new stuff that's come in," said her brother. "We might as well know what it says."
Riki went out of the office. Bordman shed his cold-garments. He said:
"The rest of the colony doesn't know what's up yet. The operator at the grid didn't certainly. But they have to know."
"We'll post the messages on the bulletin board," said Herndon. "I wish I could keep it from them. It's not fun to live with. I—might as well not tell them just yet."
"To the contrary," insisted Bordman. "They've got to know right away! You're going to issue orders and they'll need to understand how urgent they are."
Herndon looked hopeless.
"What's the good of doing anything?" When Bordman frowned, he added: "Seriously, is there any use? You're all right. A Survey Ship's due to take you away. It's not coming because they know there's something wrong, but because your job should be finished about now. But it can't do any good! It would be insane for it to land at home. It couldn't carry away more than a few dozen refugees, and there are twenty million people who're going to die. It might offer to take some of us, but I don't think many of us would go. I wouldn't. I don't think Riki would."
"I don't see—"