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Show 88 folded, lovely - an imaga of life, Sid mused wryly: only nearby did you get the stsnch. Entering the Engineers' orderly room he found Smead beside a desk, talking to a warrant officer. "You know Soder-quist," Smead said, with a casual gesture. "Captain Wilson." The Warrant Officer, - balding, with a fringa of damp curlss around his pate -- dipped his hsad in an obsequious smile; another Enginaar attraction, . Sid thought with slight distaste. "Corns on in," said Smead, and prsceding Sid entarsd a nearby office. There ha indicated a seat, closed the door and, perching on the edge of a desk, lit a cigaretts. "This isn't my bit," ha said, Exhaling smoka, "but the Colonel's tied up." Hev stoppsd and toysd with the cigarette, whils his rad-rimmeri eyes searched Sid's face. "Has to do with the black markat." His voice took on a man-to-man confidentiality. "Sold anything lataly?" Startled, Sid raissd his head. "Black markat?" And Smead's half-derisive gaze made him rebellious. "I don't sell on the black market." A sarcastic grin settled on Smead's features. "Come on." "Well - " Sid shifted, and shrugged his shoulders - "cigarettes, maybe. Everybody does that." "Not everybody." "Almost. But cigarettes don't worry me; anybody that can afford -" "- cigarettes ain't starving. That's what thay say. Rut" |