New D.C.—November 19, 2105
New D.C.—November 19, 2105Kara was despondent. She’d run out of credits and run out of time. She would return home a failure, condemning everyone she knew and loved.
It was all because of the Watchful Host.
Although Kara had some less flattering names for them.
She marched through the train station of New D.C., not caring one bit for convention. For three weeks, she’d walked with mincing steps, kept her voice low, dressed modestly, conducted herself quietly, and followed the Sumptuary & Decency laws to the last detail. It had gotten her nowhere. She’d finally lost her temper on this, the last possible day she could try to meet the Oracle, and those angels had tossed her out.
The only mercy was that the publicly released vid of the incident was so poor. No on
