“Not for me,” Maika said curtly, without taking her eyes off the screen.
“It’s because you’re young.” Vanderhuse objected. “When Alexander Semyonov was your age, he loved having friends, many friends. He loved working with friends, in a big noisy company. To brainstorm, to feel the tense excitement all the time, to compete all the time, and it doesn’t matter in what: wing jumping, the number of jokes cracked per unit of time, the recall of some statistical tables, anything, really. And in-between, to sing, loudly, his own verses, accompanying himself on a knackophone.” Vanderhuse sighed. Usually, this passes when you find your true love… But I don’t know anything about that. I only know that in early 34, Alexander and Marie left to join the Free Search Group. Actually, I haven’t
