“It’s a beautiful morning, Sire,” the guard said. “Yes, it is.” The Duke nodded, thinking: Perhaps this planet could grow on one. Perhaps it could become a good home for my son. Then he saw the human figures moving into the flower fields, sweeping them with strange scythelike devices—dew gatherers. Water so precious here that even the dew must be collected. And it could be a hideous place, the Duke thought.
