When we gave you the job of curator, when wedispensed with the black finger Miina had given you as a stigma of your collective sin, we had a glimmerof hope for you. The Jeni Cerii went past them, disappearing over the crestof the in'adim. His armor was shredded, twisted into the shape of flower petals. Too often the Deirus' suppressed rage at being separate from and unequal to the Genomatekks oftheir caste took the form of small but galling discourtesies to those who most depended on them.
He is a dangerous mad V'ornn and nothing more. We have no desire to punishhim; we merely wished to put his claims to the test. It was very odd. Whipping thedata-decagon out of the slot, she returned it to its tier.
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