T. talks and everybodysinging 'Kumbaya'?"Michael answered sagely,"Yeah, I sure do. It was in all the papers. I figure every warhead thatgets dismounted from a terrestrial missile will be placed up here,probably some kind of directed mine field set up. One of Ramparts jobsis to get a metallurgical analysis of those ships, so I figure the bigboys need that so our Mines know what kind of metal to target and nukefuck.I was wrong, Schtopaugh, They're not the Teacher to our whiny schoolkid, they're the British empire to our Continental Army." Or they the Czarist pigs to our People's revolutionary guard." Whatever".Jack told the two of them,"I don't see that it matters. All that matters, is that we're not gonnatake any of their shit." Da Tovarich, Da, a thousand times so!"Michael pointed at Beta Flight-Soyuz-Salyut and said,"Yep there they are, see that big dish, that's their chromatic-spectrographic resonance scanner, they're gonna get some good data offthat."Jack told her, "Hey, didn't. She was carrying her flute from the car, and she walked over and sat down on the picnic blanket, taking off her sneakers and socks. She lifted her head up and gazed at the white clouds above her. The weather was delightfully cool, 53F, very unusual for a sunny August afternoon in Nebraska. But the cool weather went almost unnoticed as they pondered their situation.Jim looked down at Cindy and thought she looked stunningly beautiful, curling her bare calves and feet around her as she sat. Jim took off his shoes and socks and joined Cindy being barefoot, and lay down on the blanket to join her watching the clouds. His head was on the blanket just touching the sides of her hip and thigh through her skirt. Cindy looked down and smiled at him for a moment, and lightly caressed the side of his head, holding it to her body. The time passed quietly.Jim closed his eyes and rested, thinking of their situation. After a while he heard Cindy open her flute case, and a moment afterwards sweet.
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