Analog SFF, March 2007 by Dell Magazine Authors

Author:Dell Magazine Authors [Authors, Dell Magazine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Magazine, 2012
Publisher: Dell Magazines
Published: 2008-07-13T05:08:52+00:00

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Africans of several ethnicities appeared in dusty, battered vehicles--a Volvo and two combis--to help skin the carcasses. A friend of Hendrik's came with a lorry, which would bring some of the meat back to their families. Ted and Hendrik left them on foot, tracking one injured cow into the bush.The Sun set rapidly so near the equator, dropping straight down as if of fatigue from baking the salt pans all day, and the lack of clouds made it a brief, orange event. They made camp, ate, and settled by the fire. A distant yelp and then a roar caused Ted to squint into the night, but Hendrik kept his gaze on the retiring flames. The guide seemed as unaffected by the impending catastrophe as the wildlife was. A lion had just made a kill. What else was it supposed to do?

"Why did you come back?" Hendrik said. "You were safe on the Moon."

"Maybe. There aren't any lions up there, but I wouldn't call it safe. They say bits of Big Bastard could pummel the Moon, or that it will send chunks of Earth that way. None of us may escape this one. And the strongholds aren't as strong as you might think either. They really haven't solved all the problems of self-sufficient biospheres."

"But here is certain death. Why come back? For the elephants?"

Ted had to think about answering that one. "They're not like other animals. When you shoot an elephant, it's like shooting a dog or a horse. Something inside you dies with them. But something else comes alive. I just wanted one last look at the way things used to be."

"I understand you."

Ted laughed. Everyone else had always said just the opposite. Even his biographer had surrendered.

"You're a very lucky man," Hendrik said. "You have a rare place in the colonies, and you are still rich enough to come back for one last look around."

Ted pulled a pipe from his jacket, a bent Rhodesian, supposedly designed by Alfred Dunhill, if not Cecil Rhodes himself. He tamped a Turkish blend of latakia into its bowl. One last chance to smoke.

"Yeah, I'm lucky. I'm lucky that ivory is in high demand now, and that I know how to get it."

"Why is it in demand?"

Ted watched a tentacle of smoke twist up from his pipe like the shriveled ghost of a very old idea. "Superstition," he said. "When you want something rare, it stands to reason that to get it, you have to buy it with something equally rare. There are folks who think that ivory is good luck, and that it will somehow get them a spot on the Moon."

Hendrik looked disappointed. "That's foolishness."

"Mmm," Ted agreed, puffing at his pipe. "They call it the Lunar Lottery, but it's become lunacy, if you ask me."

"Then why do you sell the ivory? You don't need the money."

"Ah, but I do. Dolores is the reason why."

"She left you years ago, my friend."

"If I can purchase a double occupancy upgrade, she'll have

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