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But which was Rowan inside: male, female? Did she even know? Did she care?
Xris suddenly recalled a part of the report he'd received on her. She had rarely, in seven years, left the space station. She lived alone. No husband. No lovers. No close friends.
Alone.
Maybe that answered his question.
Shaking his head, Xris shouldered his share of the equipment, headed for the hoverjeep.
CHAPTER 24
Mute and magnificent...
John Dryden, Threnodia Augustallis
Thoe hoverjeeps pulled up in front of the house. Climbing up, Xris looked toward the wooden balconies on the upstairs floors, more than half expecting to see pantyhose hanging out to dry--a sure sign that Raoul had returned.
The balconies were empty, the house locked up.
"Dmnn," Xris muttered, and looked at the Little One.
He was disconcerted to find the Little One looking back at him.
The battered and bloodstained fedora was perched at an odd angle on the empath's bandage-swathed head. Only one eye was visible, and that because someone--probably the Little One himself had shoved the bandage up in order to see. That one beady, gleaming eye was staring at Xris intently and it suddenly occurred to the cyborg that the Little One needed to communicate with him as urgently as Xris needed to communicate with the empath.
The Little One knew--through the strange, almost symbiotic relationship--where Raoul was and what was happening to him! Xris was sure of it
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