Shereached surreptitiously under her pillow for her hold-out las-pistol. It wasn?tthere.?Looking for this?? the figure asked,aiming a weapon at Dumare...?What do you want; money?? Dumare asked. Shewas frightened, but would not show it.?Tell me?where did you go to school???I don?t have to-? shebegan, but there was an ominous click and the small whine of the powercellcharging. ?Castle-Guard Grammar. It?s on-??I know where it is. It?s ironic, theyteach three hundred courses, but not one of them is. "I know from your uniform you're in the air force, but what's that wheelie thing you all have on your arm?"She was referring to the Apprentice Wheel; a brass four bladed propeller within a 1½" diameter brass circlet, worn on the left sleeve of our tunic."We're trainee helicopter pilots," Greg said, with such smoothness and certainty the two girls believed him. He could tell porkies without turning a hair; which is a well-known London characteristic. Ask anyone born in the North if you don't. Knowing she had a place to stay, away from the hell hole that was our house was already making her feel better. “Care to tell me what happened?” Her smile disappeared, and was replaced by a face of pure anger and hatred. She started talking. “I was dressed to go out, you know, short skirt, crop top, showing off the goods,” I nodded. She had the body to pull it off too. A tiny girl, but stacked with what had to be at least a large C cup and a tight little butt that was enough to make most men. The press decided to have their way with me after practice.Flanked by Joel Gregerson and Ron Rodgers, two of our media interns, I answered a few dozen of the dumbest questions ever asked, to anyone, by anybody, ever. My favorite was, "Brian, did you ever think that you would be an important pitcher in the American League Championship Series, at only sixteen years old?"Nope."Brian, you've had unprecedented success as a sixteen year old phenom. Do you think you can keep it up?I wanted to answer,.