Such considerations did not motivate Leroy Nilsson 
in this instant however. He wanted only one thing:  his 
cigarettes, an embodiment of unrestrained waste and 
addictive pleasure, destroyed. He wildly decided to 
throw the whole case into the chute. 
   But that was not enough. 
   Nilsson tore up all the drawers and doors of the wall 
closets in his accomodation. And everywhere he made finds:  
further cigarettes. . . Liquor. . . Books with risque 
texts. . . Magazines with lewd pictures. . . 
   Vice upon vice! 
   Everything went into the recycling pit. Tony 
Verdeschi's brewed pseudo-whisky, the Playboys of the 
years 1995 to 1997, the novels of Charles Bukowski and 
Jack Players. . .
   And still Leroy Nilsson had not done everything that 
he had to do in order to bring things to a conclusion.
   He selected Leigh Andersons code. Leigh Anderson was 
a computer technician and had maintained an amatory 
relationship with Nilsson for a good half year. 
   The young woman was likewise off duty. Her pretty 
face appeared immediately on her commlock screen.
   "Leroy!" she welcomed him. "Don't you have to play 
cards around this time?" 
   "No, that is over and done with. Leigh, I must ask 
you something:  do you want to become my wife?" 
   Extreme astonishment was reflected in the tension of 
the Technician. 
   "Your wife, Leroy? Why do you ambush me so unexpectedly 
with such a question?" 
   "I mean it seriously Leigh!" 
   She shook her head slowly and unmistakably, however. 
"Leroy, you know about my attitude. I want to remain a 
free person. Also, you always wanted that. In this   

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