A Disquiet Follows My Soul

As the days progress, Racetrack comes back to him with more numbers. They look good; she's spoken to a solid crop of people, every one of them just as angry as the crowd Gaeta entertained in the mess. He adds them to his tally, then quietly seeks out each person to fill them in on some of what he discussed with his own group.

But that still leaves thirty-seven thousand civilian voices unheard. Trying to extrapolate so much from so little remains far too dangerous.

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