To Each His Star

“Nothing around those other suns but ashes and dried blood,” old Dunbar told the space-wrecked, desperate men. “Only one way to go, where we can float down through the clouds to Paradise. That’s straight ahead to the sun with the red rim around it.” But Dunbar’s eyes were old and uncertain. How could they believe in his choice when every star in this forsaken section of space was surrounded by a beckoning red rim?