The afternoon brought wind from the south. It carried along a swirling cloud of dry, gray, metal-tinged dust. Filling the eyes with grit and the tongue with the brassy, industrial taste of girder and paving, this stale breeze made for miserable weather. Clinging to surfaces, absorbing static charge, it left a pale ashy coating on everything. Feeling slightly better, though shamefully petty, the soldier smiled and turned away. He looked instead to the people now emerging from the vessel. No, the surprise was all in the face. “Oh,” Anej muttered, trying to process the implications of this. Switch.