Seeing no reason to conceal it, Wuu announced himself to be the well-known colonial poet, but was disgusted to learn that none of the citizens they questioned had ever heard of him. “We don’t have much time for poetry or any other kind of entertainment here,” one informed them. He was a middle-aged male whose body looked like it had been run through the ore crusher a few times. “I’m afraid what few pleasures we have are of the less refined variety.”

Ryo had never thought of poetry as being particularly refined. It was just something any moderately aware intelligence paid homage and attention to. But the principal recreation in Sed-Clee appeared to consist of various forms of strenuous physical activity, surprising in light of the hard work required in the two mines.

Several days’ indirect questioning failed to elicit the location of the military-complex entrance, so they decided to chance asking one of the citizens directly, rather than risk a formal information terminal.

“The base?” The stunted, old female did not appear suspicious of the question. “It’s sixty kilometers north of town, of course.”

“Sixty north? …” Ryo was momentarily confused. “But the transport line ends here in town—at least, the one we came in on did. Is there a separate, special spur that runs from here to the base?”

The old lady responded with a gesture of second-degree negativity. “No, there’s no other transport rail, youth. All traffic to the base moves on the surface, in individual vehicles.”

Like my dependable old A24 crawler back home, Ryo thought, but something much tougher. “Isn’t there any kind of general transport?”

“The workers and soldiers from the base come into town often enough,” she told them. She didn’t have to. Both Ryo and Wuu had seen military personnel, circles and stars shining from their shoulders, wandering around the hive since their arrival.

“But they come on military transport at regular intervals. Very few hivefolk ever go out to the base. No one wants to.”

“Who does travel out there?” Ryo inquired.

“A few do special work and have permits and special clearance. They use the same military transportation. I don’t know why you’re so anxious to go out there. You don’t look like fools. But if you’re determined to try, I can help you a little.” She gestured past them, back down the corridor.

“Third cube, second level, is where the information office is located. Go and speak to them. Perhaps someone at the base will be in the mood to indulge idiots. Perhaps you’ll be lucky and they’ll turn down your request.” She cocked her head to one side. “Tell me, why do you want to subject yourselves to such a journey?”

“I’m a poet,” Wuu said, not bothering to give his name. “I’m doing a long spiral poem on the military.”