Звездный десант

           Heneverledtheexercisesafterthatmorning(weneversawhimagainbeforebreakfast;rankhathitsprivileges),buthedidthatmorning,andwhenitwasoverandwewereallbushed,heledusatatrottothemesstent,shoutingatusthewholewayto"Stepitup!Onthebounce!You’redraggingyourtails!"

           WealwaystrottedeverywhereatCampArthurCurrie.IneverdidfindoutwhoCurriewas,buthemusthavebeenatrackman.

           Breckinridgewasalreadyinthemesstent,withacastonhiswristbutthumbandfingersshowing.Iheardhimsay,"Naw,justagreenstickfractchuh—ah’veplayedawholequahtuhwithwuss.Butyouwait—ah’llfixhim."

           Ihadmydoubts.Shujumi,maybe—butnotthatbigape.Hesimplydidn’tknowwhenhewasoutclassed.IdislikedZimfromthefirstmomentIlaideyesonhim.Buthehadstyle.

           Breakfastwasallright—allthemealswereallright;therewasnoneofthatnonsensesomeboardingschoolshaveofmakingyourlifemiserableatthetable.Ifyouwantedtoslumpdownandshovelitinwithbothhands,nobodybotheredyou—whichwasgood,asmealswerepracticallytheonlytimesomebodywasn’tridingyou.Themenuforbreakfastwasn’tanythinglikewhatIhadbeenusedtoathomeandtheciviliansthatwaitedonusslappedthefoodaroundinafashionthatwouldhavemadeMothergrowpaleandleaveforherroom—butitwashotanditwasplentifulandthecookingwasokayifplain.