Jo took a deep breath. “You take all this as if it were as commonplace as boiling an egg, Kras,” he said. “Don’t you ever wonder about some of the things you get from the beep? That ‘cast Dana Lje picked up from Canes Venatici, for instance, the one from the ship that was traveling backward in time? How is that possible? What could be the purpose? Is it”
“Pace, pace,” Krasna said. “I don’t know and I don’t care. Neither should you. That event is too far in the future for us to worry about. We can’t possibly know its context yet, so there’s no sense in trying to understand it. If an Englishman of around 1600 had found out about the Amer-ican Revolution, he would have thought it a tragedy; an Englishman of 1950 would have a very different view of it.
We’re in the same spot. The messages we get from the really far future have no contexts as yet.”
“I think I see,” Jo said. “I’ll get used to it in time, I suppose, after I use the Dirac for a while. Or does my new rank authorize me to do that?”
“Yes, it does. But, Jo, first I want to pass on to you a rule of Service etiquette that must never be broken. You won’t be allowed anywhere near a Dirac mike until you have it burned into your memory beyond any forgetfulness.”
“I’m listening, Kras, believe me.”
“Good. This is the rule: The date of a Serviceman’s death must never be mentioned in a Dirac ‘cast.”
Jo biinked, feeling a little chilly. The reason behind the rule was decidedly tough-minded, but its ultimate kindness was plain. He said, “I won’t forget that. I’ll want that protection myself. Many thanks, Kras. What’s my new assignment?”