Bill Kowalski didn't care about the sun. He didn't care about the engines. He didn't care about the United Government or the Star Faction or any of the other bullshit they were spouting in the underground plazas.
He cared about two things: whether he could find a job that didn't destroy his lungs, and whether his wife Martha could afford the medicine she needed. The sun would explode in four hundred years. Three hundred and eighty had passed. Bill didn't know what to do about that. Nobody did. He was a former steelworker from Pittsburgh. The steel industry died before the sun problem started. The...
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