"The truth about Armstrong. Not the 'accident' story you fed to the
teevies.... "_Tragic End for World Hero, Died With His Boots On_". Dan
wanted the truth. Who killed him. Why this colony is grinding down
from compound low to stop, and turning men like Terry Fisher into
alcoholic bums. Why this colony is turning into a glorified,
super-refined Birdie's Rest for old men. But mostly who killed
Armstrong, how he was murdered, who gave the orders. And if you don't
mind, I'm beginning to get cold."
"And you got all that," said Barness.
"That's right."
"You haven't read it, though."
"Not yet. Plenty of time for that on the way back."
Barness nodded wearily, and motioned the guard to give Carl his
clothes. "I think you'd better read it tonight. Maybe it'll surprise
you."
Golden's eyes widened. Something in the man's voice, some curious note
of defeat and hopelessness, told him that Barness was not lying. "Oh?"
"Armstrong didn't have an accident, that's true. But nobody murdered
him, either. Nobody gave any orders, to anybody, from anybody.
Armstrong put a bullet through his head--quite of his own volition."