nstant watch on the indicators and screens of
the few instruments that were still functioning aboard the ship.

And he waited as the ship fell toward its rendezvous with the third
planet.

_[2]_

Wang Kulichenko pulled the collar of his uniform coat up closer around
his ears and pulled the helmet and face-mask down a bit. It was only
early October, but here in the tundra country the wind had a tendency to
be chill and biting in the morning, even at this time of year. Within a
week or so, he'd have to start using the power pack on his horse to
electrically warm his protective clothing and the horse's wrappings, but
there was no necessity for that yet. He smiled a little, as he always
did when he thought of his grandfather's remarks about such "new-fangled
nonsense."

"Your ancestors, son of my son," he would say, "conquered the tundra and
lived upon it for thousands of years without the need of such womanish
things. Are there no men any more? Are there none who can face nature
alone and unafraid without the aid of artifices that bring softness?"

But Wang Kulichenko noticed--though out of politeness he never pointed
it out that the old man never failed to take advantage of the electric
warmth of the house when the short days came and the snow blew across
the country like fine white sand. And Grandfather never complained about
the lights or the television or the hot water, except to grumble
occasionally that they were old and out of date and that the mail-order
catalog showed that much better models were available in Vladivostok.

And Wang would remind the old man, very gently, that a paper-forest
ranger only made so much money, and that there would have to be more
saving before such things could be bought. He did not--_ever_--remind
the old man that he, Wang, was stretching a point to keep his
grandfather on the payroll as an assistant.

Wang Kulichenko patted his horse's rump and urged her softly to step up
her pace just a bit. He had a certain amount of territory to cover, and
although he wanted to be careful in his checking he also wanted to get
home early.

Around him, the neatly-planted forest of paper-trees spread knotty,
alien branches, trying to catch the rays of the winter-waning sun.
Whenever Wang thought of his grandfather's remarks about his ancestors,
he always wondered, as a corollary, what those same ancestors would have
thought about a forest growing up here, where no forest like this one