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"
Neither
does
yours
.
"
They
looked
at
each
other
.
"
All
right
,
thanks
.
I
’
ll
keep
it
.
For
luck
.
"
Shasta
lifted
another
figure
when
Ralph
Murdoch
,
the
requisite
camera
hanging
from
his
thick
neck
,
walked
in
.
"
Good
morning
,
ladies
.
"
Rita
cocked
one
rust
-
red
eyebrow
at
the
arrival
of
her
unwelcome
guest
.
Her
face
hardened
to
steel
.
The
sudden
change
in
Rita
’
s
demeanor
startled
Shasta
,
who
looked
as
though
she
couldn
’
t
decide
whether
she
wanted
to
hide
from
Rita
behind
this
strange
hulk
of
a
journalist
or
the
other
way
around
.
After
a
few
awkward
moments
of
hesitation
,
she
opted
for
taking
cover
behind
Rita
.
"
How
did
you
get
in
here
?
"
Rita
made
no
attempt
to
hide
her
disdain
.
"
I
’
m
a
registered
member
of
your
personal
staff
.
Who
would
stop
me
?
"
"
You
’
re
your
own
staff
,
and
we
both
know
it
.
You
can
leave
now
.
"
Rita
didn
’
t
care
much
for
this
man
and
his
never
-
saw
-
a
-
speck
-
ofbattlefield
-
mud
running
shoes
.
People
like
him
and
Shasta
could
meet
and
talk
in
total
safety
whenever
the
mood
took
them
.
His
words
were
never
limned
with
the
dread
of
knowing
you
would
have
to
watch
your
friends
die
in
the
next
battle
.
It
was
that
dread
,
that
certainty
,
that
kept
Rita
away
from
her
squadmates
,
the
only
family
she
had
left
.
Nothing
this
rambling
fool
would
ever
have
to
deal
with
in
his
entire
life
.
