Each time Si returned from one of his own runs, he celebrated. A spree, a bust, a bat, a wing-ding, a night on the town. A commemoration of dangers met and passed.
Now it was all over. At the age of thirty he was retired. Law prevented him from ever being called up for contributing to the country’s labor needs again. And he most certainly wasn’t going to volunteer.
He had taken his schooling much as had his contemporaries. There wasn’t any particular reason for trying to excel. You didn’t want to get the reputation for being a wise guy, or a cloddy either. Just one of the fellas. You could do the same in life whether you really studied or not. You had your Inalienable Basic stock, didn’t you? What else did you need?
It had come as a surprise when he’d been drafted for the labor force.
