After they'd delivered them to the communications center for thenext day's pod, they'd gotten maudlin drunk together in honor of Bertol. Her eyes had settled on his face. Congratulations. The man who awaitedhim was standing behind his desk, and leaned across it to shake hands.
But people might survive there. Instead of roads, they foundtangles of blowdown, occasional swamps of bull brush to push through,soft-snowed fens and bogs to cross. He'd gotten them bivouacked on farmlandnear the ridiculously small town which seemed to be the capital of thisworld. Longish necks, too.
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