FOUR
Peter Moore Faa was annoyed. It was becoming a normal state of mind, given his situation in life, but nonetheless, he was annoyed that he seemed to be annoyed so much of late. He thought briefly of being annoyed over the annoyance regarding his present state—annoyed—but decided that down that path madness lay, and if he didn’t stop, he’d be caught up in some sort of endless loop that would result in his brain exploding. Or something of that ilk.
“Travellers,” he snarled to himself.
“Yes?” the stuffy-sounding voice in his ear asked in a mild tone that would have annoyed him, except he knew he’d go stark, staring insane if he added any more shades of irritation to his life. “Are you speaking of something in general about them, or just making an observation that there are Travellers n
