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the next morning as she was struggling to get breakfast into two toddlers. Miles was helping, sort of—both twins seemed more interested in using their food to bomb the Hassadar Count’s Residence cats, swirling under their high chairs, a more entertaining and quasi-military exercise to which Miles had allowed himself to be diverted. “Bracket him, bracket him, that’s right, Helen—!”
vacations with Miles usually ended up being more something you needed a vacation from, afterward. It was easier just to stand out of his way and let him go on till he dropped, which he eventually did. She tried not to let her mind sketch parallels with hyperactive toddlers.
Regularly and recently used, though, Ekaterin’s nose attested even through her air filters.
“But if one embeds a lesson in a lie, and the children find out it’s a lie, they’re likely to throw out the lesson as well. I mean, logically. They couldn’t trust anything at that point.” “Mm.” Ekaterin wondered if that explained something about adolescence.
Boris said glumly, in the tone of one who knew just who won the dirty jobs, “I s’ppose Vadim and I have got to shoot t’em.” “Oh, no!” Jadwiga wailed, her little eyes filling with tears. Enrique looked up from where he was opening a canister. “What’s all this?” Vadim explained unhappily, “Any domestic animals that can’t be turned loose have got to be put down. It’s less cruel in the long run.”
He had a meditative air, which was just the look one wanted on one’s expensive imported scientist, although on what track his train of thought would exit his labyrinthine brain was often a surprise.
“Neither side was happy with the other, needless to say. Shooting people to keep them from dying had logical flaws obvious to everyone.
