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Show Flying - 217 answering as briefly as possible, with sirs every third word and nothing but the utnost respect in his expression. Captive John Henry, prisoner of the system, surrounded by inimitable order and the weight of ancient custom. Not to mention the penalties for straying. Even Karafa stands as near to attention as the wielding of the black notebook will allow. They've got a way of knowing when a nan's about to shake loose. They see it in his eyes, in the set of his face. Is that why he stopped to talk to ne? To make sure? "We could sweep them off the earth if we could just once see through the game. If evil became unnecessary. The Indian brave was shot by five hundred nen in blue who were afraid of what cones after the gane is abandoned. A good soldier's always bitching. A good soldier gets drunk. You got to stay right on top of hin or he'll fuck up first chance he gets. They're just brutes, sir, the First Sergeant said with hate in his voice. But the Captain says it with love. John Henry stands stiff, knees locked and eyes firmly to the front, and waits for the good captain to finish the catechism. The closer you can get to just saying yes sir and no sir, the better off you are. Anything else can get you into some kind of trouble you might not even be expecting. Stay cool, John Henry, stay out of it. Be a brute, John Henry. They'll be kind to you. , , „ „ n±. ±.-1.0 p-rpase in the captain's orange John Henry stares at the create xn w*^ r |
