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word magister. It meant a kind of ruler, but why would the magisters be after
him? There weren t any magisters in Hamor. Had he lived somewhere else?
And someone else had been saying words to him, warmer and sadder words, but
the only phrase he recalled was something like  you won t be back& the past
has no hold on you Back where? And how could the past have had a hold on him,
when he couldn t remember it?
Were those dreams memories? How could they be?
Despite the pounding in his skull, he knew he had to get up. The last thing he
wanted was to go back to being a loader& or, even worse, a slogger& and that
could happen if he didn t do his new job as a checker. He sat up on the edge
of the bunk, and swung his feet onto the worn reddish floor tiles. He could
feel grit under his toes, grit that had not been there the night before. His
clothes were on the rack at the foot of the bed, and the spare set was in the
foot chest below it. He didn t feel like a shower, not with the cool breeze
that blew through the bunk room, but it might help wake him.
After his shower, he pulled on his new garments and made his way back toward
the eating area, where he filed into the line. Despite being among close to
fifty checkers, not one looked in his direction or talked to him as he waited,
then held out his tin plate for a large helping of an egg and quinoa hash. He
also got a full loaf of bread along with his beer. It took him a moment to
remember that half the bread or all of it, he supposed was his midday meal.
When he left the servers, he began to look for an empty space at one of the
tables, carrying his platter, cup, and bread, easing his way between the
checkers on the benches.
He saw Zhulyn, but the balding man did not meet his eyes.
Faryn did look up.  You look more civilized this morning.
Beside him, Zhulyn nodded, reluctantly, but did not speak.
 Thank you for the suggestion yesterday, Blacktop replied politely. Something
about Faryn bothered him, but he couldn t have said what.
 I m glad we could help. Faryn s smile was warm enough, but Blacktop felt it
was false.
 Thank you. Blacktop moved on, slowly, listening.
 Why& encourage him& ?
 & a dangerous man once, young as he is& may be again& 
Him? A dangerous man? He almost shook his head, but sat down quickly when he
saw an empty corner of one of the tables. The checker nearest him looked over,
then looked away quickly.
What was it? The only thing that Blacktop could see about himself that looked
different was that his skin was tanned darker and more bronzelike, as opposed
to the light olive color of the other checkers and he was taller and more
muscular. But why would those things make a difference in the way the other
checkers looked at him& or didn t want to talk to him?
He ate all the hash and drank all the beer, but decided to save the entire
loaf of bread for later. After eating, he once more followed the lead of
several checkers, and, before long, he stood outside the building with the
others, waiting for the wagons and hoping he was in the right place.
Several more checkers hurried toward the group as Blacktop caught sight of
three wagons coming toward the group. Which wagon was he supposed to take?
Finally, he caught sight of Moryn and Chylor, who were heading toward the
second wagon. He was one of the last aboard, seating himself next to the same
gray-haired man who had been in the reading room the evening before.
 Good morning, Blacktop offered, as the wagon began to move.
 It is morning, replied the other,  and it is not that adverse. How did you
find the History!
Page 173
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 It s interesting, Blacktop admitted.  There s a lot I don know.
 That s true for all of us, including those who write the histories. The only
question is whether we realize it. The man looked away.
Blacktop did not say more.
Once the wagon stopped at the plate-loading dock, Blacktop hurried after
Chylor toward the checker s kiosk. For a moment, when he saw the stacks of
plate and heard a clanking around the steam engine, he wondered why nothing [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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