“Uncle Suren’s glider was still the same, with a darkened, as if smoky, bottom, familiar dents on the body and a peeling edge of the right wing. But Uncle Marat arrived in a brand new, shiny one, with unusual angular contours. Probably, among other cargo, it was delivered by the last transport ship from Earth. “Of course!” – Dimka thought, squinting from the glare flashing on the cockpit canopy. “If I became the head of the Colony, I would always have a new glider!” He imagined that he occupied a spacious chair in Uncle Marat’s office and, dangling his legs, gave orders from there, chuckled cheerfully and began to look at the yard. Just a week ago, not far from the hangar, the first dark green “pyramid”—a triangular shoot of a previously unknown local plant—sprouted. And now there were about three dozen of them. Spring has come..."