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... nt down, tugged the little green bastard from the base of his radish bed, and flicked it over his shoulder. It landed with a soft plop on the compost pile—now moved outside the kitchen, thank the gods—and he wiped his hand on his pants like a man who'd just finished surgery.

"You think it's quiet," he muttered, standing back up. "Then they strike. A full mutiny of root-snatchers."

Lira stood nearby with a clipboard in hand—because of course she had one now—and a visor over her ey ...

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