"Those things are necessary, Sue. They mean survival. We're not supposed to talk about them. And we're supposed to go to bed earlier because food rations are to be cut again and we must conserve our strength." * * * * * Returning to her section of the dorm, she passed a knot of girls whispering in the corridor. She caught the words "_Ida Bella_" and "_Trilogy_." Then "_Old men. They look ninety and most are crippled. And not a one is over twenty-two._" Hurrying, to keep pace with her heart, she went on to her room. As she slipped out of sweater, denims and briefs, she thought, "Darth Brady was on _Firelance_. Maybe! Maybe--" She knew she was not supposed to hope, neither despair. Nothing that happened must halt or hinder. The stars beyond the window were bright and close. She thought she could see the rings of blue with white dots in their centers which were said to be visible through a powerful telescope when the fighting was intense. Next day she applied for an issue of clothes. The elderly woman smiled and shook her head. "You're very pretty. You wouldn't be beautiful but you'd certainly be lovely and feminine in a dress. Wish I could issue you an outfit." "But I haven't drawn any clothes in over eight months," Sue said. "We used to get clothes four times a year, then twice. Now--" "It can't be helped," the woman explained. "They've cut production to put more labor and machinery in the heavy industries. Even the boys at the Centers aren't getting as many uniforms as they were. And they'll get fewer next year." "Oh!" "If your denims and sweaters have been damaged--" "No. I've three of each. They are just worn." "Then you'll have to make out. The less we have here the more the men can have when they go out. You understand?" * * * * * Sunday she took advantage of the shorter working-day to go with her mother to the vale between the cultivated rows of cedar and the woodland. She had come here at every opportunity since she could remember. It was here she had been taught that there was something beyond the transient physical life. Today they walked on through the wood to a point where they could see the lake which had been made by the strike so many years ago. It was more than five miles across and was said to be half a mile deep. Coming back, they saw a number of uniformed men in the vale. They were gray and wrinkled and some were crippled. She felt her mother's fingers close tight on her arm, but curiosity wouldn't allow her to stop. She stared. He was stooped, his face a mass of wrinkles, his hair snow-white. And he was gibbering. He seemed to recognize no one.