by Alma Boykin
Seeri hid her disappointment. The nobles would never grant permission, which took some of the healthiest and most prestigious individuals out of the program even before it started! Well, a haunch tasted better than no meat. She bowed very low. “Thank you, Your Majesty. We will begin with the project as soon as we have volunteers.”
“What are you going to call this, Maker Seeri?”
“Project Star-Strong,” she announced proudly.
“Star-Strong. Well chosen, Maker Seeri. You are dismissed.” He smothered a groan as he got up from his bench, his arthritic hip and shoulder joints grinding. Laski lumbered out of the reception chamber, his mind on other matters, like stretching out in the hot afternoon sun and baking some of the pain out of his bones.
For her part, Seeri hurried from the chamber as fast as her four legs would take her, her mind already back in the laboratory.
