Alex climbed quickly into his baggy paper suit and zipped it up to the neck. Let the stick puppet disappear into his big paper puppet costume. It wouldn’t do for the Troupers to dwell on his medical condition. He couldn’t describe them as bloodthirsty or sadistic people; they lacked that criminal, predatory air he’d so often seen in his determined slumming with black marketeers. But the Troupe did have the stony gaze of people overused to death and killing: hunters, ranchers, butchers. Thrill freaks. Euthanasia enthusiasts.