Ohannes Herod Hertz was disconsolate about having to leave the only home he had ever known. The young pleasure clone insisted on looking through his master’s bedroom for a memento.
“Son, we really don’t have time,” roughneck foreman Iker Mehmûd Macauley insisted. “The military or the Pingucury could come through here at any minute. We need to get moving early if we’re to have any hope of getting to the monastery by nightfall.”
“Let him see if he can find a little something to take with him, Ike,” Peregrine Cenric Varga countered. “The poor kid is losing everything he’s ever known. Let’s make it quick, though, Ohannes. The Pingucury usually attack at night, but they’re unpredictable. The military is supposed to protect civilians, but there’s a lot of corruption in the ranks. I’d prefer to avoid the lot of them.”