He risked everything if he did. But still... "Torch!"George turned his head away from the 2 x 4 he was supposed to be cutting."What's the matter, Torc...?" his short, squat little shit of a supervisor demanded as he waddled toward him. "What the fuck are you doing just standing there?!" Sorry, boss," George said tightly. He hated this man passionately. He was a miserable little shit, with his white shirt and cheap tie and ornamental hard-hat—he was one of those middle-class failures who somehow. Many of the court ladies he considered beautiful, and he had attempted relationships with several of them, but it always left him feeling as though he were having a relationship with his sister. They did nothing for him, yet any human would be more that happy with one of these women. He had wondered if it were another effect of the changes wrought on him by the Intelligence Corps. For that change he cursed them roundly, and he had given up and became celibate. He now avoided functions like this. More

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