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the sound of Mertil’s voice is always with me.
<Marco!> Rachel cried. <A little help, please! I can’t turn around in here!> I knuckle-ran over to Rachel. Somehow she’d gotten herself in a too-narrow alley between train cars. I tore the Hork-Bajir from her flank. Flung him behind me, into the side of a caboose. <Back out, Rachel. I’ll watch your, uh …> <Don’t say it,> she snapped. <Just don’t say it.>
Tobias glared. <Okay, I’m getting a complex over here. I’m a nothlit. A freak. Whatever. My best friend is an alien with blue fur. My girlfriend is human — when she isn’t in morph. How about we don’t talk about “normal” anymore. Or “average” or “natural.” Please.>
