2.The girl

“ That's why I can't even do something useful, such as B. tackle the Nijem harvest yourself. No squire would do that and be naked in front of his slaves ... besides, I have a governor, you, who does the real work. ”

“ You don't seem too happy with your work for the Federation. Why did you actually

apply for it? ” Tjonre remembered Elvinia and Franak and the cruelest intoxication of his life as exactly as if it had happened only yesterday.

A couple of lamps gave off an unbearably bright light. He closed his eyes, but opened them again immediately to fix his gaze on the glass in front of him. Around him there was a rustling and murmuring that periodically grew to a roar; he didn't know, was it in his skull or outside? He tried not to pay attention to it any more than to a monotonous, monotonous hum that was stuck in his ears.

The air in the tavern, where mainly second-rate Kelwe was served, was too thick to breathe. The sweat of many people, fumes, smoke, the stench of cheap cigarettes and alcoholic beverages filled the room. Every now and then a few scraps of words pierced his mind; he couldn't completely isolate himself.

He glanced briefly at the girl sitting across from him, source of words that did not interest him. It seemed to him that he had never seen her before. She had a smile - put on or painted on? Painted on! Way too much make-up. Her mouth moved, she said something; some babbling and stammering. He didn't understand her. Her fingers pointed to a figure in the center of the room, young, with a blond mane and cropped beard, who - as he knew - always formed the center of the action. The sight of the grinning man made him sick. He got up heavily, casually swept the glass of cheap booze off the table, staggered toward the door, and stumbled out. His skull seemed about to burst, his knees went weak, a cold sweat stood on his forehead; he vomited.

When he got up later, he looked at the rising sun. He lowered his eyelids a little and looked through his lashes into the red light. He enjoyed the warming rays and the gentle breeze, which brought the smell of the lagoons into his nose. A strange longing overwhelmed him. He began to run - faster and faster - towards the lagoons. Then he stopped, bent down, ran his fingers through the water, peered at the red surface of the water, then at the glowing sky, which only slowly, gradually, assumed the usual turquoise hue. The sun had risen a little higher now; some of its rays touched the bottom of the lagoon. Immediately a multiform chirping and singing rose from the depths. The higher the sun rose the louder and louder the sea. Transparent, small, shrimp-like animals played near the beach. They played the game of life and death, the game of life and love, love and death. Tjonre watched her for a while. He gave the young morning a look, then he withdrew.

What kept him here? Sure, he loved the landscape, the sea, the rocky beaches; he loved his family, but he had no future here - or so it seemed to him for the moment. The succession was clearly regulated in the Wägan law; his eldest brother would take over the family's lagoons - he would remain the picker himself for a lifetime.

For "his" girl - the girl from the bar - he felt no love. Her body attracted him, there was nothing more. He tried to convince himself he loved her. After all, she was pretty, slim, a bit too stern face, but with impressive eyes, long black hair, firm breasts, and a narrow waist. But sometimes, occasionally, he wanted not only to sleep with her but also to talk to her. That's when the problems began. Elvinia's favorite subjects were all about her own person, she loved to talk about her future career, which she felt safe and about her possessions, which one day would be considerable. For a long time she had only held reproaches for him; he is not too ambitious, not “capable of development”; and she loved to compare him with others, with "better ones", for example with that figure in the center of the bar. As far as she was concerned he was a discontinued model, of which he was only too clearly aware. It was only a matter of time before he was dumped. She was clearly drawn to Franak. Tjonre, on the other hand, didn't like him, mistaking him for a balloon, an inflated guy whose self-confidence existed for no reason and arose out of nowhere. Franak could be found within fifty miles of every party; no bartender who did not know him. Franak loved to surprise the audience. This time he had loudly announced that he had been accepted as a patrol recruit, a privilege that only a few youth on a planet enjoyed.

Yes, that was a way. Tjonre was going to take the entrance exams tomorrow - today, for the new day had begun with the pale glimmer of dawn.

As the sun rose it started to get hot. Tjonre took off his clothes, stretched his webbed fingers between his fingers and toes, jumped into the cool water and plunged into the depths, down to those creatures they called sirens.

Tjonre held the head in both hands as if it were too heavy and groaned. As a result of a wrong decision, he now mourned warmth, sun and sea. Then he looked pained at Raft and finally answered his question: “For the stupidest reason there is. To impress a girl that I really don't care about at all! That's why I let myself be carried away to take the Federation Military

Entrance Examination . ” “ I am amazed that you passed it! They attach great importance to obedience, team spirit and that you act first and then think ... "

" I don't. I rattled through a lot. But they said they need me for a special assignment. As you know, her previous agent on Ivarn was also Wäganer, you worked with him. When it became clear that the old squire would not have much longer to live, they looked for someone who could pass as a relative and heir. But only someone was considered who, in the eyes of the rulers of Ivarn, is similar enough not to arouse suspicion. ”

“ And there they only had you? ”