“You maimed him?” I asked Vasiliy. The white volhv sighed. “We warned him. He didn’t listen. Durnoi chelovek.” Foolish man. That’s putting it lightly. “The head is bright,” Vasiliy continued, “but no wisdom. His father was very respected in the community. Did a lot of good for a lot of people.” “It was that or kill him,” Grigorii said. “Can’t trust him. He’ll build something else and kill us all.” “Can’t build anything now,” Adam said. “Can’t hold a screwdriver. Can’t hold a wrench. Or a brush. Finished. Zakonchen. My life’s over.”
