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Well I am glad you brought them up, then, this irrelevant alien race.
I clapped eyes on Bacramal, Kasper, Amlis—smaller cities, each under their own quilt of skyshell.
"Clapped eyes," huh?
Put a crossbow to my head and force me into describing it, and I’d say Rackamore’s ship was fish-shaped.
Well that escalated quickly.
Jusquerel.
Nope
I put the main sweeper in, and the squawk, and that secondary console over there. My job is getting one box of gubbins to talk to another, even when they weren’t even made by the same species.
Ah well that clears that up.
Wow what a great hero being dragged back home and punished by everyone. Way to cleverly work your way out of that one!
But when the troubles had passed they changed me, they made me less than I was. But you spoke the words, Arafura. You asked if I remembered the Last Rains of Sestramor. And I did, although I did not know that I did. And those words were sufficient to undo the logic blockades put into me.”
Oh COME ON
“You’re still broken inside.” “Yes. And I will never have the strength I once did. That was taken from me for good.
If only you were a robot who could upgrade his robot parts. Oh well, guess we'll have to make do forever with you just being a broken robot head!
“Yes, and keep your voice down.”
Like 20 pages ago you said his voice was now super quiet
I felt fierce, too. And if I wasn’t ready for a war, then I was ready for battle. No: not a battle, exactly. Close action.
Well, maybe not close action, exactly. More like a skirmish. Definitely not a polite gathering. A kerfuffle? Actually, come to think of it...
“Honestly, Tindouf, I didn’t know you had it in you.” “Peoples think I’s a harmless idiot,” he said. “They’s only half right.”
