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Wild Braided Flyer
186341
"God," Siegfried says. "It's all such a drag, isn't it."
"What is, Herr Siegfried?" Hauptmann Steil pushes Gesperri along across the sand. "The search?"
"And if I wasn't doing this, what would I be doing? Shooting at other panzers for no reason. Taking care of popsicles." Siegfried kicks a pebble. He's in one of what Gerhardt calls his black moods. "Isn't it infuriating that this is all we're made to do?"
"It's only infuriating if we don't find anything," Steil says evenly. "And the sergeant has assured us we will. That was good enough for the Grand Marshall, wasn't it?"
"And about her," Siegfried says. "What's she doing here?"
"Hello," Gesperri says.
"She asked," Steil says. "And another pair of eyes couldn't hurt. You were the only volunteer, I'm afraid. You and her."
"God." Siegfried squints across the horizon. "Why are you here?"
"I believe her." Steil adjusts his grip on Gesperri's cuffs. "As did the Grand Marshall. She seems an upstanding gentlewoman."
"Thank you," Gesperri says.
"She should be under guard," Siegfried says.
"So guard her," Steil says.
"How is it," says Siegfried, "that when a robot, and a prisoner of war, calls itself a she, how is it, that half the officers in the Landschknechte go around doffing their caps to-"
Then he sees it.
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