Perfect Flaw by Robin Blankenship

Author:Robin Blankenship
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Seventh Star Press
Published: 2013-03-18T16:00:00+00:00

Down the hill, Avrom had crossed the kilometer and a half to the bridge in record time. After crossing words with the sentry, he was granted pass of the bridge. The evening was already darkening, and the oil lamps were casting an eerie glow on the wooden planks of the bridge. It felt to Avrom like six kilometers, but in reality was only three hundred and twenty-nine meters long – he knew the number for sure because he not only helped build the bridge, but also was assigned to inspect it every year.

The walk across never got easier. In his years as inspector, he had brought dozens if not hundreds of people across the bridge and deposited them in the confines of the Manor. Anguished people, those like Eirene, were a dime a dozen, but the law was law and he had sworn to uphold it. They were in place for a reason – sworn to protect people from the degradation of society because of undue burdens placed on them because of problems. He didn’t know what caused them, sometimes it seemed to be a freak thing. Other times, like in Garricke’s case, he wondered if it was a case of a bad combination of people. Maybe if Eirene and Gaylen had been looked at more carefully, the union would have been denied. He wondered if the issues – Eirene’s seven miscarriages and now this – would still have occurred if she had been partnered differently.

“Hello, Avrom.” Bryor stood at the doorway, standing as tall as she could with her bowed legs. “What is the problem with this one?”

“You’ll find that the outward appearance doesn’t match that underneath. This is, in fact, a boy.”

Bryor shook her head. Now that they were in the Manor, it didn’t matter anymore. If this child wanted to bang his – her? – head against the wall in the corner all day, Bryor didn’t care to correct the situation. Garricke was no longer citizen number gee-four-seven-nine-six-two-eff, a solid black bar obliterating him from the citizen record. He was a memory, a ghost, and as a ghost, Bryor saw no reason to make him conform to the rules of society. She reached out a gentle hand and took the child from his abductor. “We are done with you now, sir. You can leave us now.”

“I need a count.”

“One, two, three.” She said. “There, a count. Would you like a count of five, perhaps a count of ten would be better?”

Avrom was always taken back by her attitude towards him. “I need to know how many are here, Bryor.”

“How would I know that?” She looked down at her deformed legs, bowed out to the point she had to walk by swaying. “I’m not created like you. I lack something. Surely you can’t expect me to count correctly and understand how many are here. I’m much too stupid to understand that.”

Avrom never understood her opposition to him. The Manor gave her the ability to breathe air a little longer.

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