"Not going! But man, you know the end. It's death, in less than two hours. We're risking our own lives and we thought—"
"None of my family wishes to leave Osmand," the governor said quietly. "Therefore, I have no desire to survive, without them."
"But all of you can live, if you come with us."
"You forget our neighbors, and our kinsmen." Tarquin pointed out gravely. "I think you do not understand.
"Life, anywhere else has no attraction for the citizens of Spor. I know that now, plainly. The referendum would not have registered a thousand votes of those choosing to abandon the planet, had I sufficient time to explain, and Garok had not run amuck." Tarquin sighed. "There still is hope, that this black fog will be dissipated, as our scientists contend. If not—then it is farewell, men of our parent Earth."
"What about going to Earth," Jim cried, suddenly inspired. "That would be different. We'll take you there."
Tarquin turned and walked to the long, official car. The others followed, silent, like men sentenced and yet hopeful of reprieve. As he stood beside the door, Tarquin lifted a hand. But he spoke no more. The motor roared. Twin lights flashed on the turf....
We stood there for minutes. I heard a dry sob. Maybe it was from Jim Drake's throat. Or again, maybe it was from my own. I don't know. We stood there, till the car's rear light merged with the glow of Osmand's illumination.
Jim said, "we've got to start." As he spoke I saw a pup, a dirty, black and white pooch, tail working, trotting up. I scooped it up. Something from Spor was going to survive. Then I went to the ship.
Shadrak's voice was imperative as he called us. "Leaving," Jim shouted into the transmitter.