The right question kept getting the wrong answeróbut old Ethan and Amantha got the right answer by asking the wrong question!
dn't see how they could stand it. Thin clothing and obsolete oxygen equipment. Oddly, they could take more than you'd think, though. Used to it, he supposed. "Come on in," he commanded gruffly. He wasn't going to freeze. They followed him into the post. "Didn't you see the signs to keep out?"
"But the ships aren't using the field. What harm are we doing?"
"Orders," he said. There were still a few pilots checking over their ships, making sure everything was in working condition before they were locked up. In a week, all flight personnel would be gone to the settlements, there to await the next round of voyages when Earth came near. They had it soft, while he, the guard, had to stay in cold discomfort.
"We're going to visit a friend of my son," said Amantha. "They were pilots together. Do you object?"
He didn't, but there were some who would. The order made sense with respect to little boys who would otherwise swarm over the field, falling off ships or getting stuck in rocket tubes.<
An old couple wants to get from Mars to Earth to see their new grandson, but because of radiation exposure, no one will let them make the trip. So she bakes a cake with magic Martian berries . . . .
The (still unsolved) problem of radiation exposure on interplanetary flights gets pretty good consideration in the story, but the story itself kind of creaks.
The only impossible thing about this short story is getting through it. Jumps around like a bug on a hot skillet, making it incomprehensible.