Igor wrinkled his nose, looking at the skinny child with big eyes beside the middle-aged man, who seemed like a gust of wind could blow him away...
"Yes, you've been recruited. You help me manage the military dogs, take them to work, and then you can support your child."
As he spoke, Igor looked at the big-eyed child sucking on his finger, comparing his own plump arm to the kid's skinny, stick-like arms. Unhappy, he said, "So skinny, surely can't do any work. Let him eat at the base's canteen every day. He'll fatten up quickly and be able to work then."
Igor was illiterate in English, Arab, Chinese, and French. The middle-aged man couldn't understand the Arabic Igor was speaking, but someone nearby could, and they loudly translated it...
The man, obviously displaced for a long time, suddenly blurred with tears. Somewhat unsure, he said in broken English, "Is it to go to the P.B. base?"
