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Updated: June 23, 2025
"I don't believe I've had a trank in the past twenty years, Miss Haer. Even as a boy, I didn't particularly take to having my senses dulled with drug-induced pleasure." Some of her fury was abating, but she was still critical of the professional mercenary. Her eyes went up and down his uniform in scorn. "You seem to make pretenses of being cultivated, captain. Then why your chosen profession?"
Their stance, their demeanor, their ... well, you could tell a veteran even though he be Rank Private. You could tell a veteran of even one fracas. It showed. He knew the situation. The word had gone out. Baron Malcolm Haer was due for a defeat. You weren't going to pick up any lush bonuses signing up with him, and you definitely weren't going to jump a caste.
I doubt if the captain is interested, particularly since you don't seem to be able to get beyond the protesting stage and have yet to come up with an answer." "I have an answer!" "Ah?" Balt Haer raised his eyebrows, mockingly. "Yes! Overthrow this silly status society. Resume the road to progress.
There was a sheen of oily moisture on the Baron's bulletlike head and his officers weren't particularly happy about it. Malcolm Haer characteristically went into a fracas with confidence, an aggressive confidence so strong that it often carried the day.
Two Rank Privates with 45-70 Springfields and wearing the Haer kilts in such wise as to indicate permanent status in Vacuum Tube Transport came to the salute as they approached. The Upper preceding Joe Mauser flicked his swagger stick in an easy nonchalance. Joe felt envious amusement. How long did it take to learn how to answer a salute with that degree of arrogant ease?
Sac. i. p. 306. H.E. v. 11, vi. 6. H.E. vi. 6. Marc. iv. 5. Haeret. c. 36; see Scrivener, Introduction, p. 446. These facts may be held to show that the books were not regarded with the same veneration as now. Haer. iii. 11. 8. Adv. Haer. iv. 13. 1. Westcott, On the Canon, p. 120, notes 4 and 5.
He was standing to attention, looking at Baron Haer. The Baron glowered at him. "What is the meaning of this cavalier intrusion, captain? Certainly, you must have your orders. Are you under the illusion that you are part of my staff?" "No, sir," Joe Mauser clipped. "I came to report that I am ready to put into execution " "The great plan!" Balt Haer ejaculated. He laughed brittlely.
And then the fog began to roll in on Joe Mauser, and he noted, as though distantly, that the medical assistance that General Armstrong had provided from the West-world Embassy was headed by Dr. Nadine Haer, who seemed to be crying, which was uncalled for in a doctor with a patient, after all. His wounds were clean, straight slashes not overly deep and which should heal readily enough.
"I suppose there should be a moral somewhere about this kindly old lady who was the outstanding fracas buff of them all." Nadine Haer was in the process of hitting the drop lever with her left hand as they slowed and headed for the entrance to a parking area. She said brittlely, "The moral is that you can have slobs at any level in society. Being an Upper doesn't guarantee anything."
Freddy said sourly, "Listen, you tried to handle all this by yourself, last time. You dreamed up that fancy glider gimmick and sold it to old Baron Haer. But did you do yourself any good with the buffs? Like Zen you did. All you did was louse up a perfectly promising fracas so far as they were concerned. Hardly a drop of blood was shed.
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