“Yeah, you aren’t alone on that one. I suspect I have twelve months, maybe less. I checked the GeoCredit ATM down near city hall—six thousand credits left—can you believe that?” Emmitt looked away. “I considered being a Junior Agent right there and then.”
Jioni put her hand on her face with eyes wide.
Emmitt shrugged with a nervous smile. He leaned back and disguised his anger. Then his face went back to being unreadable.
“I know. Me, a Juinor Agent,” Emmitt groaned. “If my parents don’t magically show up soon, I’ll have to twirl that dumb lance around and learn to use a gun if I want a meal. The thought of it makes me sick—there’s no medication for that kind of sickness.”
“Are you hungry?” Jioni asked abruptly.
Emmitt didn’t reply, instead he looked annoyed. Maybe embarrassed.
