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A Little Disgruntled

 

“It is much easier to be critical than correct.”—Benjamin Disraeli—

 

 

 

Zormna stared at her glass of tsilk and grumbled to herself. She was an Anzer, and well deserved. And she had kept out of trouble. But whenever Alea Tengarr saw her in the hallways he gloated so much that she felt like wringing his neck—though that did not bother her half as much as that undercity boy she had caught the other day. She knew she had seen his face somewhere before and by the time she remembered where she had seen him, a lousy P.M. accused her of losing the boy. The P.M.’s accusations brought back all her anger and frustration at the whole rotten system. She had nearly forgotten it all in the quite living of the Alpha district.

It had been nice being home. Her duties as an Anzer were good. Alea Arden kept her busy, so she really had no reason to complain, except….  The boy’s face flashed in her head. His determined and exasperated expression as he wrestled her grip astounded her. No one ever fought as hard as he did. No one ever could fight her as hard as he did. It was difficult enough to keep him down but harder still to fight his unconquerable spirit. Zormna had been so proud of her success, even after the P.M.s lost him—but it was his face, like out of an important dream that she had somehow forgotten, and Alea Arden’s expression of sadness that puzzled her.

She stirred her drink and shook her head. Did Alea Arden know him? It was probable. Alea Arden did grow up in the undercity, and that boy was so entirely undercity even if he did look like a seer child. Her superior officer looked so…so…Zormna could not put her finger on it. He looked disappointed, but not in her. It was not even disappointment in the boy. Zormna stirred her tsilk and mulled over it all. No. It was the system. Zormna nodded at this conclusion. He hated the system.

A dull ache tugged at her chest and Zormna frowned. No…. That was not it. Not exactly anyway. It was something else.

“Zormna!” someone called to her over the crowd at Sandi’s.

“Oh, hi, Salvar,” she said, barely looking up.

Salvar ignored her unenthusiastic greeting as he trotted over to her table and leaned on it. “Me and a bunch of the guys are going to the public gym to watch Alea Prantz get his pants kicked at pronuk. Do you want to come?”

Zormna cracked a smile at

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 28.02.2018
ISBN: 978-3-7554-7886-7

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