THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE
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world mankind was just one of dozens of intelligent
species.
The man was only a few inches shorter than Jon-Tom,
which made him unusually tall for a local. With the
exception of a radically different cut, his attire was identi-
cal with that of the much smaller squirrel: all black with
lace cuffs and the same golden medallion. He held his
hands clasped in front of his chest. His gray hair was
combed neatly back at sides and forehead. A gray goatee
protruded from his chin, and he wore thin wire glasses
with narrow lenses. To Jon-Tom he resembled a cross
between Colonel Sanders and a contrabassoon.
His smile and words both spoke of kindly concern,
however. “Greetings. Welcome, strangers, to Friends of
the Street.” He gestured toward the squirrel. “Ishula tells
me you have a friend among our flock?”
“We think so. Her name’s Folly.”
The Headmaster frowned. “Folly. I don’t know that we
have anyone staying with us by that… oh, yes! The young
woman who was brought in the previous evening. She told
us her terrible tale of being captured by pirates on the high
seas. You are the ones she described as her rescuers, are
you not?”
“That’s right.”
“To think that such awfulness is abroad in the world.”
The Headmaster shook his head regretfully. “The poor girl
has endured more than any intelligent creature should
suffer.”
Jon-Tom had to admit that so far all of his concerns and
fears looked unjustified. Still, he couldn’t leave satisfied
without at least a fast look at the facilities.
“I know it’s late, and it’s cold out here. We have to