He told the sergeant what Makoor had suggested, and asked him to provide a list of who he'd cull. There they did some forms, then sparred for a while. It was another bitter arctic morning, colder, he thought, than the morningbefore. Dressed like soldiers, same as you, but they talked like Komarsi.
On the way, Varlik apologized, not veryarticulately, for his boorishness, and Konni, for whatever reason, hadstiffened at the apology. The T'swa, on snowshoes, could fire withonly a momentary stop. At this writing, life on Splenn and Carjath remains quite stimulating andinteresting after nearly 500 Standard years. Get in thestokehole, he told the trimmer.
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