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. I
slapped the gun out of line and cracked his wrist with my cane. I caught the
gun, shoved it into my p-suit belt, went forward, and collapsed in my seat. I
did not know that I had hurt him, other than a bruise, maybe.
But I feel no trace of remorse. If you don't want a broken wrist, don't
wave a gun in my face. Not when I'm tired and excited.
Then I pulled myself together and tried to help Gwen and Bill.
I hate to tell about our fourth casualty: Igor O'Toole, the five-year-old.
Since the tad was on a back seat with his mother, it is certain that he was
not killed by anyone from the rolligon; the angle would have been impossible.
Only the two gunners of the superdoughnut were up high enough to shoot in
through the driver's port of Hear Me and hit someone clear at the back.
Furthermore it had to be the second gunner; the first gunner had kept busy
killing bushwhackers. Then the doughnut turned, I saw this gun leveled at us,
saw its flash just about as I fired and killed him.
I thought he had missed. If he was firing at me, he did miss. I'm not sure
he was aiming carefully as who would aim at the least likely target?-a child, a
baby really, clear at the back of the bus. But the flash I saw had to be the
bolt that killed Igor.
Had it not been for Igor's death I might have had mixed feelings about the
crew of the giant doughnut-we certainly could not have won without their help
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