Iq'her
Page 18
I looked over the list of issues that were still unanswered from the day before, resigned myself to having to deal with people complaining about not getting their complaints dealt with, and buzzed Tobias. “Let them in,” I said dejectedly.
Over the next several hours, including during my lunch break, I listened to complaints about the lack of food, how bland the simulated food was, questions about why we haven’t fixed a neighborhood yet, at least two people with nothing better to do than simply throw insults at me, and a complaint about the lack of suitable technology at one of the schools.
Alright. The last one was something would be interested in doing something about.
Nothing was more important than learning. Learning leads to knowledge, which led to proper preparedness, which led to not getting caught by surprise and being capable of completing whatever task needed to be completed.
I made that one a priority and sent it off to Tu’ver, Sylor, and Iq’her. They were collectively in charge of trying to improve the technology of the city.
Finally, there was one more…a woman by the name of Daphne March. Her ‘complaint’ was that she was nervous about the fate of her city. Well, if these damn humans would just trust us to know what was best and allow us to handle our responsibilities, there would be nothing to be nervous about. These recking idiots that are part of the ‘anti-alien’ group just needed to shut the reck up and stay out of our way. We would leave soon enough.
If we could.
Of course, no matter what my thoughts were, the likelihood of us leaving was evaporating more and more every day. Too many of us were getting close to the humans, developing friendships and relationships with them. I was certain that Vrehx and Rouhr would stay here if we had the chance to leave.
I worried that Rokul would stay, as well.
I looked up as this Daphne person entered the room. A petite brunette, she looked around every corner, curiosity lighting her eyes.
Her distraction gave me a moment to collect myself. It seemed unthinkable that anyone would be able to look as attractive as her in a war ravaged city. She had her hair tied up in what was commonly referred to as a top-knot, but stray strands fell to soften the look. My hand itched to push the silky strands back behind her ear.
I fought the feeling, realizing the eager smile on her face seemed very out of place for someone that was ‘nervous.’
“How can I help you, Miss March?” I asked in my most professional voice, not really caring what her response was going to be as I stared her body up and down. She was voluptuous and curvy and in my mind one of the prettiest humans I had ever laid eyes upon.
She fairly bounced across the room and into one of the chairs across from me. She seemed to be far too happy to be here.
“Hi. I was wondering if you could tell me about the Puppet Master.”
My head snapped up from my perusal of my paperwork. She sat there, smiling at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said trying to focus. “I was under the impression that you were here to discuss your nervousness about the city.”
“Yeah, I know,” she replied, her voice far too energetic and peppy. “I lied. I’m really here to get more information about whatever that thing is that’s responsible for the plants.”
This was entirely too disconcerting. She wasn’t afraid. She was interested.
About something she shouldn’t know anything about.
I needed to know what she knew already, so I asked her.
That was possibly a mistake.
She talked, and talked, and talked. Sometimes her sentences were about what she knew, but most of the time it was about what her thoughts were of it and what she thought those thoughts meant. It was like listening to Axtin go on and on about one of his battles.
As of Axtin’s latest telling of how he saved Leena from the Xathi ship, he destroyed nearly a hundred Xathi with his bare hands and that infernal hammer of his.
Daphne finally stopped talking. “So?” She asked, proving me a liar on the ‘stopped talking’ part. “What can you tell me?”
“I can tell you that we’re doing the best we can to contain the situation and determine a proper course of action,” I answered.
“But what course of action are you taking? Do you know if the Puppet Master is intelligent? Can it talk? Have you tried communicating with it? What if we can’t fix things?” She threw out so many questions, I lost track of what she was saying.
“Why did you lie about your concerns?” I asked as a way of stopping her.
She shrugged and smiled at me. “I didn’t think you’d tell me anything if I just asked outright.”
“I see. Well, in regards to the Puppet Master, it is a creature that we are currently studying and determining the best course of action in how to deal with it,” I explained. “We are looking into new ways to save the vegetation that we all use.” I held up my hand to stop from talking any more. “I will pass on your concerns to the city leaders in an attempt to find more information. Thank you for expressing your concerns and I hope your day improves.”
“But, what about…”
“Ma’am, I must apologize but I have other people that I need to speak with. It’s time to go,” I said as I stood up and made my way to the door. I held it open for her as she left. She opened her mouth to say something, but I closed the door and returned to the desk.
I wondered who she had talked to before me.
And when I’d get the chance to talk to her again.
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About the Author
I love old movies – To Catch a Thief, Notorious, All About Eve — and anything with Katherine Hepburn in it. Clever, elegant people doing clever, elegant things.
I’m a hopeless romantic.
And I love science fiction and the promise of space.
So it makes perfect sense to me to try to merge all of those loves into a new science fiction world, where dashing heroes and lovely ladies have adventures, get into trouble, and find their true love in the stars!
Copyright © 2018 by Elin Wyn
All rights reserved. These books or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the Author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.