The lieutenant lowered the muzzle of the gun. He barked an order to the men with him, who arranged themselves with their backs to the wall. The officer moved toward the fire, where he settled himself in a chair.
"You," he said. "Take off my boots!"
He was speaking to Zen. Kurt measured the distance to the lieutenant's jaw. Out of the corners of his eyes, he noted the positions of the Asian soldiers.
"Odds are too great," he thought. "Stay alive now. Maybe your turn will come."
As he started to kneel, he bumped into Nedra, who was already on the floor unbuckling the officer's boots.
"If you would rather do it, I would rather have you do it," the lieutenant said, smirking.
"It is a privilege, sir," the girl said. She pulled off the heavy boot and began to peel off the thick sock.
The probability that she had saved Kurt Zen's life was very great. He felt a surge of anger at his own helplessness.
The feeling of cold at the marrow of his bones was appearing again. It was stronger now. He noticed that Cal's hands were trembling. The teeth of one of the soldiers standing against the wall were chattering audibly. A second soldier looked as if he were about to go to sleep.
Zen discovered as he yawned that he was getting sleepy too. Along with the cold creeping outward from his bones was a sensation of mental fogginess that was very close to sleep. The lieutenant, sitting directly in front of him, was nodding.