It's an easy habit toslip into in a cell. You have your orders. They're flying back to theWall now. A man grows lonely in the dark, and hungers for the sound of a human voice.
Commason had a personal slave \endash a man called Inchney. What mattered to him now was returning to his farm, to Jackie, and provided this trouble vanished, he would again take up his pivotal role in feeding this very small world. You can talk to the men yourselves, if you think it necessary. Soon, though, the dreams dried up.
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