"And if a prisoner from the mines distinguished himself as a soldier, would he be freed at the end of the war? They wouldn't send him back to the mines, would they?"
"The war hasn't even begun yet," said Tomar. "No one knows how it will end."
"You're right," she said, "as usual." They reached the gate. "Look, Tomar, I don't want to keep you if you're busy. But you've got to promise to come see me and spend at least an afternoon before I go back to school."
"If the war starts, you won't be going back to school."
"Why not?"
"You already have your degree in theoretical physics. Now you're only doing advanced work. Not only will they conscript prisoners from the mines, but all scientists, engineers, and mathematicians will have to lend their efforts to the cause as well."
"I was afraid of that," Clea said. "You believe the war will actually come, don't you, Tomar?"
"They get ready for it night and day," Tomar said. "What is there to stop it? When I was a boy on my father's farm on the mainland, there was too much work, and no food. I was a strong boy, with a strong boy's stomach. I came to the City and I took my strength to the army. Now I have work that I like. I'm not hungry. With the war, there will be work for a lot more people. Your father will be richer. Your brother may come back to you, and even the thieves and beggars in the Devil's Pot will have a chance to do some honest work."
"Perhaps," said Clea. "Look, like I said, I don't want to keep you—I mean I do, but. Well, when will you have some time?"
"Probably tomorrow afternoon."