The Distributive Passions

NOTES: I won’t say that I’m used to the feeling here, all static electricity and technicolors, but it helps to walk around in it. I met a traveller kid at the canteen, wearing a “Tom Paine died for your sins” T-shirt. Patriot art, horrible stuff, with the mob scene like something out of Goya. Not exactly the way I remember the story being told. But he was willing to show me around a bit. Walked out to where we could see the big crater clearly, and the cement dome on Runit. The colors are disorienting, and the air seems to sizzle slightly, particularly down by the water, but it’s less of an assault on the senses. “Too much life,” the kid said, when I mentioned the effect. Apparently, that’s the standard line. “The Har-Mats loved it when we bombed this place,” he said. “Settled some old scores.” Then he drifted back to “work” around the canteen, which didn’t seem to amount to much, but prevented any further discussion. I made arrangements to go out tomorrow to one of the marine arcologies, which glint in the distance, and got a short tour from one of the radiological abatement officers. “Abatement,” he said. “It’s not entirely in our hands at this point.” And he headed back to the canteen for a beer.