A Matter of Perspective

The break room was a zoo by the time Edmund got there.  Two senior watchmen bounced around on a lunch table, throwing stale bread and meat this way and that, screaming into the crowd like a pair of harpies with especially foul mouths.

"What's all this about?" he asked a junior, easing the door closed and crossing his arms.

"Tech's on the blink again," said the junior quietly, eyes darting to the rabble-rousers as if he were afraid to provoke them further.  "Lost five marks today already."

"Did w...