by E. M. Foner
“We keep them current for the famous humans on the tunnel network,” Walter explained. “It’s just that all of our staff is here tonight, and the intern misinterpreted my caption and triggered our emergency coverage protocol. It seems we have to rewrite those guidelines.”
“Look on the bright side, Ambassador,” Chastity said. “Everybody you know is here. By the way, my mom said to tell you that you’re not in your assigned seat.”
“We came in the back way, with Srythlan,” Kelly explained. Chastity just shrugged and then returned to her own place, a chagrined-looking Walter in tow. The waitstaff of the Empire Convention Center, both biological and bot, flooded into the hall with serving trays.
“Hey, I ordered the chicken,” Joe complained, pushing away a plate of barely congealed jelly. “What’s this yellow glop?”
“Send it this way,” an alien four seats to his left called.
Kelly looked down at her own plate and barely contained her gag reflex at the squirming pile of larvae. She rose to her feet and looked down the row of ambassadors to locate Crute, whose seat she had inadvertently taken. With any luck, the Dollnick ambassador would have her spaghetti.
“For you, Joe,” Gwendolyn said, passing along a plate with chicken and green beans that had been delivered fire-brigade style down the long table.
“Thanks,” Joe replied, accepting his supper from the clone. “It’s still better than the service at that hotel we stayed at in Manhattan.”
“You took the words out of my mouth,” Kelly said, as she spied the Grenouthian ambassador returning a plate of spaghetti to a waiter. “There’s no place like home.”
Party Night on Union Station is getting a sequel because I’m addicted to my own characters. I recently published a fantasy novel, Meghan’s Dragon, which I wrote between EarthCent books over the period of a year while taking a break from the near-omniscient Stryx. In Meghan’s Dragon, none of the characters have perfect information about their magical world, and they may even mislead the reader from time to time. You can sign up for notification of the next EarthCent release on my website, IFITBREAKS.COM.
If you believe there is still a place in science fiction for stories that aren’t all about death and destruction, please help to get the word out. Posting an Amazon review on the first book of this series, Date Night on Union Station, will help new readers discover these books, even if you only write a few words.
About the Author
E. M. Foner lives in Northampton, MA with an imaginary German Shepherd who’s been trained to bite bankers. The author welcomes reader comments at [email protected].
