Freya turns off her wristpad. “Why?” she asks Badim. “Why do they hate us so?” He shrugs. He too is troubled. “People have ideas. They live in their ideas, do you understand? And those ideas, whatever they happen to be, make all the difference.” “But there’s more than ideas,” she protests. “This world.” She gestures at the fading sunset. “It’s not just our ideas.” “For some people it is. They don’t have anything else, maybe, so they give everything they have to ideas.” She shakes her head, still upset. “I would hate that. I would hate to be that way.” She gestures at the tiny angry faces on
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