thought, smiling--was for wax for her ears. She loosened the three
snaps of her skirt, watched it fall to the floor. She stood there
briefly, lithe-limbed, a tall, slim girl, then had the white shorts
over her nakedness in one quick motion. She still wore a coarse
halter.

"All personal effects, Comrade," said the nervous little man.

"No," Sophia told him.

"But yes. Definitely, yes. You hold up the line, and we have a
schedule to maintain. The Stalintrek demands quick, prompt obedience."

"Then you will give me one additional item of clothing."

The man looked at Sophia's halter, at the fine way she filled it. He
shrugged. "We don't have it," he said, clearly enjoying himself.

In volunteering for the Stalintrek, Sophia had invaded man's domain.
She had watched not with embarrassment but with scorn while the men in
front of her got out of their clothing. She had invaded man's domain,
and as she watched them, the short, flabby ones, the bony ones with
protruding ribs and collar-bones, those of milky white skin and soft
hands, she knew most of them would bite off more than they could chew
if ever they tried what was the most natural thing for men to try with
a lone woman in an isolated environment. But she _was_ in a man's
world now, and if that was the way they wanted it, she would ask no
quarter.

She reached up quickly with one hand and unfastened the halter,
catching it with her free hand and holding it in front of her breasts
while the nervous little man licked his lips and gaped. Sophia grabbed
another pair of the white shorts, tore it quickly with her strong
fingers, fashioning a crude covering for herself. This she pulled
around her, fastening it securely with a knot in back.

"You'll have to give that back to me," declared the nervous little
Comrade.

"I'll bet you a samovar on that," Sophia said quietly, so only the man
heard her.

He reached out, as if to rip the crude halter from her body, but
Sophia met him half-way with her strong, slim fingers, wrapping them
around his biceps and squeezing. The man's face turned quickly to
white as he tried unsuccessfully to free his arm.

"Please, that hurts."

"I keep what I am wearing." She tightened her grip, but gazed serenely
into space as the man stifled a whimper.

"Well--" the man whispered indecisively as he gritted his teeth.

"Fool!" said Sophia. "Your arm will be black and blue for a week.
While you men grow soft and lazy, many of the women