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Updated: May 26, 2025
Mother Corey stood staring at the pack while Bruce Gordon changed out of his airsuit, gagging faintly as the full effluvium of the place hit him. "Where does a man eat around here?" Mother Corey pried his eyes off the cards and ran a thick tongue over heavy lips. "Eh? Oh. Eat. There's a place about ten blocks back. Cobber, stop teasing me!
Mother Corey met him, dragging him back to a small room where he dug up an impossibly precious bottle of brandy. "Drink it all, cobber. So one of your Security badges had the wrong man attached to it, and word got back. Couldn't be helped. You just ran into the sacred law of Marsport the one they teach kids. Be bad, and the dome'll collapse. The dome made Marsport, and it's taboo!" Gordon nodded.
Sometimes the pair wandered off to see a cobber in another part of the lines, exchange experiences and rumours with him, partake of his rations and water, and wander homeward through miles of dusty saps, not forgetting on their way to replenish their water-bottles at the landing and to acquire there any provisions which might, or might not look as if they lacked an owner, or, at any rate, the supervision of a policeman's eye.
Thompson, Edgeworth, Badger and Beck butted in solidly behind the lithe quarter-back. The rest of Gridley followed. Cheek of cheek! The out-weighed High School boys were giving Cobber a dose of Cobber medicine. It was a mass-play -a battering-ram assault. And Gridley got it over! An inch past the line Winters tripped and went down, covering the ball. Touchdown! Five to five a tie score!
"W'ere is Joe?" asked the girl, suddenly serious. "Tell 'im I want ter see 'im." "Gone ter buy a smoke; 'e'll be back in a minit." "Right-oh, tell 'im wot I said," replied Ada, moving away. "'Ere, 'old 'ard, ain't yer goin' ter interdooce yer cobber?" cried Chook, staring at the red-headed girl.
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