The morning air was still cool as Simon stood by the stove, watching the steam rise from a pot of boiling noodles.
He whistled low, the kind of whistle that came from someone who felt the weight of the world, but had learned to shrug it off for a little while.
It was a good day. A very good day, in fact.
He added a little more spice to the noodles, the small touches of flavor being a luxury in this new world. How had he managed to get the gas cooker?
A trade, of course. A keg of fuel had gotten him more than he expected — he had received the portable gas cooker and a couple of gas cylinders.
He had bargained hard, and the Market System that was in place had worked wonders for someone like him.
Goods were scarce, but the right trade could get you almost anything. You just had to know where to look, who to talk to.
