A disjoined army of Assistants was "breaking camp".
"Short or long answer?"
"Both."
"In a nutshell, the locus of power is imploding. Happens every transition."
"Like an election?"
A slight nod so as not to out self as "political". "And before," eyes looked down at solid earth, "More battling."
"BECAUSE if you are not going to be Academic about it, I cannot let you use it."
The boyman's shiney with Aloe face ran its courses between leprechaun and gleaming-good knight. "Then (i)I will(i)," he controlled his voice emotions.
"What do you mean? Stay?"
"It's a nice enough town."
"I guess it would be an act of resistance for people to actually care about each other."
"Especially in this (i)eye for an eye(i) clime and everyone with useless input."
The girls wound their way through debris used as minefield training.
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