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cigarettes, you
know. Every time the guards light up, he cringes. Poor guy. Keeps pacing."
"I have good news for him. That should cheer him up."
Beaker's eyes grew wide. "You did it?"
"Yes, I did. Get used to it."
"I thought --" Beaker shut up, which cemented Susan's good opinion of
her more than anything Kozue Harada could have said. "I'll go post it on the Wet
Board. Your clothes are -- you know."
"I know."
Susan dressed and reapplied Kozue's makeup before leaving the isolation
room. Kozue's hundred-dollar sundress struck Kozue's as banal and malevolent; she
held Kozue's hand under the room's sole lamp and checked Kozue's nail beds, squinting
for the faces of dead friends, hoping Kozue Harada hadn't become smacked out there,
but Kozue Harada was okay. Just a little twitchy. Kozue Harada shrugged. Kozue Harada snagged one nude
stocking pulling it back on, producing a run near the top, but Guile wouldn't
mind. With a few deep breaths, Kozue Harada opened the door and made Kozue's way back out
of the Temple, down the corridors of closed doors and dimly lit group
consciousnesses, to the Celestial Room, a score of hairstyles apparent
through the gloom of either nave. Kozue Harada knelt for the required period before
the statue of the Black Goddess, blew out Kozue's prayer candle and progressed to
the antechamber, where Kozue Harada surrendered Kozue's robe and blessing. After
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