By the time Samir turned into the lane that led directly to his house, his clothes were completely wet with sweat.
No one had challenged him on his way home, although a couple of times he saw heads turn and felt many eyes following his progress as he pedaled furiously, making the bicycle go so fast he actually overtook an ancient, farting scooter. He told himself that only the people waiting at the entrance to the colonial office knew his backpack was full of implant kits, but it didn't help much.
Implant kits were destined to become very, very precious. The size of the crowd at the colonial office convinced Samir of that. There had been several hundred people there. Samir was sure that without the soldiers being present, they'd have thrown themselves at him and knocked him off his bike and robbed him.
