He had been desperate for a narrative, and now that I’d given him one, it seemed unlikely that he would see anything else. - James S. A. Corey

She grinned to herself. Safe. That sounded like a good plan. She should try that for a change.

Fatalism had its dark attractions, after all. Hopelessness and despair could almost look restful.

You familiar with the land rush in North America?
Yeah," Holden said, then took a sip of Fred's coffee. It was delicious. Earth grown, and rich. The privileges of rank. "I got your covered wagon reference. I grew up in Montana, you know. That frontier shit is still the story the people there tell about themselves.
So you know that the mythology of manifest destiny hides a lot of tragedy. Many of those covered wagons never made it. And more than a few of the people who did wound up as cheap labor for the railroads, mines, and rich farmers." Holden drank his coffee and watched the ship construction. "Not to mention all the people who were living there before the covered wagons showed up and gave everyone a nifty new plague.