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Disageement

“Just remember—when you think all is lost, the future remains.”—Robert H. Goddard—

 

 

 

Sitting on an evacuee cot, Jafarr waited with his head in his hands. He could not sleep and it did not help to try. Every time he did close his eyes, his dreams took him to a room that reminded him of the great hall. There he would invariably meet with Zeldar Tarrn to talk about the rebellion. And every time he did, that blonde flymite would suddenly arrive (or sometimes she was there first) interjecting snotty remarks that he didn’t know what he was talking about, especially in regards to Tarrns. Those dreams often came when he was tense…and right now he was incredibly tense.

Ka’rren had been explicit about his plans for that evening. They had run out of fuel for their weapons, and another raid (according to Ka’rren) was necessary. Jafarr just did not think so.

The rest of the cot-filled hall was empty. The others were preparing for the raid, packing bombs and guns, many already gathering in the uppercity for the attack. Jafarr had stayed behind. He remembered his and Ka’rren’s very public argument and just could not resolve his feelings of doubt and fear that many people were going to die because of Ka’rren’s rashness. He halted before calling it a premonition. His seer gifts made people nervous.

“You stay here then!” Ka’rren had yelled at him.

“Fine!” Jafarr had barked back, “I’ll stay and watch base. I’ll stay and pray that you are right and I’m wrong.”

Ka’rren had glowered at him and shaken his head. “I never thought you were a coward, Jafarr. Your father wasn’t a coward.”

Crowds had stared at them as they argued the day before. Jafarr just could not convince Ka’rren that his plan was the worst decision, a disaster for the rebellion if he carried it out. Orrlar Aflov and Eergvin Dolvar had just watched with closed mouths, though in silence they had agreed with him. That was how the leadership of the rebellion had been working in those recent years. Everyone would have followed Ka’rren anyway. The man was too charismatic.

Only Alzdar had stood by Jafarr during the argument, offering good reasons why they should listen to his advice. But Ka’rren brushed him off, calling them both schoolboys—refraining from calling Alzdar inexperienced. Everyone knew Alzdar had spent his whole life in the rebellion—but schoolboy? Yes, they all saw him that way too, and Alzdar clammed up with a step back, cowed.

Jafarr, however, had remained where he was, refusing to participate in a futile and worthless effort despite how everyone gathered on Ka’rren’s side to support him. So, Ka’rren ‘magnanimously’ assigned Jafarr to remain at the one base to watch out with the invalids and children. It was the first time Ka’rren has spoken disdainfully to him, though the man held a revelatory sneer as if he were looking at Jafarr’s father Jamenth, or perhaps the product of Jamenth’s thinking that Ka’rren had always regarded as weak.

“Can’t sleep?” Orrlar’s voice broke the silence from the right corner.

Jafarr looked up then nodded at the man standing in the steel framed archway, running his hands down his face.

Orrlar came in and sat next to Jafarr on the cot. He glanced up and around in the room with a shake of his head. Smiling sympathetically at Jafarr, Orrlar sighed. “Your father and I used to sit and talk like this sometimes. He used to tell me about his troubles, his hopes, things that were on his mind.”

Jafarr nodded but just peered at his hands.

“He did a lot of bragging about you. Jamenth used to say you were the joy of his life, the only thing worth living for.” Orrlar gazed at Jafarr’s worry-lined face and sighed again. “He would have done anything to keep far away from this.” Orrlar then laughed with pain. “He had to fight off Larran Demmon’s persistent begging that he let you into the rebellion.”

“And mine,” Jafarr said shaking his head with a sigh.

Orrlar looked at him, nodding. “He said that too. He didn’t want you to have this life,” motioning around them.

Jafarr closed his eyes. “But I did.”

The older man nodded again, exhaling softly. Orrlar had become tenderer to Jafarr since the boy’s near death experience in ISIC. It was like he at last understood Jafarr, if only a little.

They sat in silence for several minutes, mostly listening to the echo of the machine hum from the nearby room, waiting.

Alzdar stuck his head inside the room from a side hatch. With a grin, seeing the both of them, he stopped before speaking. Jafarr glanced up at the sound of the creaking hinge. The friends exchanged glances before Orrlar looked up.

“Oh, Alzdar. Didn’t see you there. What is it?” Orrlar asked.

“Actually I came to see if Jafarr was awake.” Alzdar climbed into the room. “My shift is over in the com room, and Eergvin is waiting for him to start.”

Jafarr stood up, taking that as a hint to get a move on. He glanced back at Orrlar with a parting nod. “Gotta go. Nice talking with you.”

Orrlar watched him and his friend exit the hall, his eyes peering quizzically at the pairing, mostly wondering at Jafarr and the instinctive, way he went about everything as if a mysterious Seer Class entity stirred in him. Alzdar looked like

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 26.03.2018
ISBN: 978-3-7554-7890-4

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