Remember your parents. Remember how they raised you, how they starved you for weeks so that you could live. And most of all, think of Earth. You've been to the surface many times, you've seen how beautiful it is, how good it is. When it gets hard, think about the bad, the good, but the main thing, the most important thing is that everything you do is for the best.
"Remember me?" The triangle-faced stranger asked.
"I haven't finished the job," Tikhomirov replied, relentlessly continuing to drive the rag from side to side. "So you're going to help the Maquis?"
"No, I'm not going to." "That's a good one."
The last words thundered over Tikhomirov's heart. He had been prepared for them, he knew that something like this was possible, but at the very moment his heart pounded with such force that his eyes darkened.
As if on cue, two chums came out from around the corner and headed towards the people, and the arrogant SSchekist finally revealed himself: "You're good for not helping the Maquis. Now you will help the SCK. My name is Dmitri, by the way.
Ivan stopped the cleanup and turned entirely toward the traitor: "I'll be with the SCK? Only if they give me food over and above the norm."
Dimitri laughed, "Rest assured, they'll give you something to eat. And over and above the norm. And as much as you want." Then he switched to a more serious and businesslike tone: "Just turn in a couple of your friends. You'll get it all."