by Pam Uphoff
"No, you can't come out and play, and no I'm not feeding you yet. Paer will feed you." He shoved the container of tomato cubes into the bubble, tied the ribbon around the crate and slid it back in as well. The cheeping died away as he closed the bubble.
Then into the shower. Into his good suit. He frowned a bit at the slight fraying around the lapels. I guess I need a new suit. But it'll do for now.
A long line at the corridor, and then Paris traffic being what it was, he was late when he finally pulled up to the side gate at Government House.
At that point he got the expedited treatment. A grinning guard directed him around to a side entrance, where Scar took the wheel to park the car while Ohhe hustled him inside. "Rescue the poor kid from that bunch of snobby leaches."
"I'll do my best." Ebsa scanned the room. The crowd thickened from left to right, where Paer was seated, and apparently in the process of opening presents. A pair of newsies with almost discreet vidcams riding their shoulders. One of them, Koil, of course, turned to get a good shot of Ebsa.
Ebsa edged into the group, trying to pick up cues as to how far along the party had gotten. It looked like Paer was on the last present. Buffet tables were in the process of being refilled. Quiet music, no dancing.
Up front a young man knelt and produced a small box. Just right for a ring.
"Paer , I have the highest regard . . . "
"No." Paer pushed back in her chair. "Don't. Just don't."
"Paer, will you . . . "
"No."
"Do me the honor . . . "
"No."
"Of becoming my . . ."
"No! For the One's sake, Evdu . . . "
"Wife?" The idiot finally sounded a bit uncertain.
"No."
"But, but . . . " Now baffled.
"No."
"My father . . . " But still trying.
Paer lifted her eyes, and spotted Ebsa. She lit up and jumped up out of the chair.
Dodged the idiot, who had risen with her and apparently thought he should kiss her. She didn't even notice. Her elbow to his ribs was just a reflexive clearing of an obstacle and barely thumped him. Unfortunately.
Then Paer reached him and threw her arms around him. "You made it! I was getting worried."
"Traffic. Sorry."
"Who is this?" The idiot had followed.
Everyone was gawping at Paer's public display of affection.
"Ah, Ebsa this is Evdu Withione Paris. Son of the Minister of Health. Doo, this is Ebsa Clostuone Montevideo, a colleague of mine at Exterior and a Warr . . . "
"Clostuone! What are you doing hugging a Clostuone?"
Nods and murmured agreement all through the crowd. And other murmurs. "Old fashioned suit . . . " "Country hick . . . " "A bit threadbare . . . "
Paer stiffened, a faint growl . . .
"And he showed up late without a present." Idiot, nose in the air.
"Oh, yeah." Ebsa grinned and turned to Paer. Pulled out the metal bars, which of course she recognized as the handles of a dimensional bubble. "I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to give you these."
He knelt on the floor and opened them. Pulled out the crate, to much excited cheeping from inside.
"Ebsa, what in the One . . . "
Paer opened the door and two critters the size of large clumsy puppies crowded out, cheeping in excitement. A little fluff of feathers, but naked skin showing, faint striping, . . . with neck shields and three stubby horns above their beaks.
"Triceratops?" Paer folded up on the floor as the clumsy babies milled about cheeping in confusion. Then identifying Ebsa, they charged up and butted him and tried to climb into his arms.
"Yep, they hatched, oh, their time line, maybe a month ago." He pulled the bucket out of the bubble. "They love tomato cubes." He hastily pulled off his coat and spread it in her lap. Handed her the bucket.
The chicks transferred their allegiance to her immediately and slurped, smacked and dripped tomato everywhere. Mostly in her lap.
And the giggling Paer didn't seem to mind at all, as she fed them cubes. The coat caught most of the drippage.
Ebsa glanced to the side. A beaming President of the Empire wiped a tear from his eye. "That's my little girl."
The other guests of a more mature age were split behind rueful shakings of heads or appalled disbelief. The newsies were grinning and getting it all.
The younger cohort was mostly aghast.
Fortunately for the sake of the party, the chicks quickly stuffed themselves, pooed on Ebsa's coat and collapsed for a nap.
Ebsa put the puppies, or chicks or whatever baby triceratops ought to be called, back in the crate. A snickering maid took Ebsa's coat away, holding it at arm's length.
Paer was still grinning, and took his arm. "Dad? I'm going to stand you up on the first dance."
Evdu hissed faintly. ". . . dead meat, Closey."
"Of course, Honey."
Ebsa offered an elbow and led Paer to the dance floor as the band segued into a waltz.
If looks could kill, Evdu would have had his wish five times over.
At least the President looked happy.
Coming Soon!
Email [email protected] to join the mailing list for notifications of new releases, or follow me on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/pam.uphoff
About the Author
I was born and raised in California, and have lived more than half my life, now, in Texas.
Wonderful place. I caught almost the first bachelor I met here, and we’re coming up on our thirty-nineth anniversary.
My degree's in Geology. After working for an oil company for almost ten years as a geophysicist, I “retired” to raise children. As they grew, I added oil painting, sculpting and throwing clay, breeding horses, volunteering in libraries and for the Boy Scouts, and treasurer for a friend’s political campaign. Sometime in those busy years, I turned a love of science fiction into a part time job reading slush (Mom? Someone is paying you to read??!!)
I've always written, published a few short stories. But now that the kids have flown the nest, I'm calling writing a full time job.
Cooking Hot is the tenth story in the Directorate series universe. I’m polishing up two short stories, And hope to get a novel—Scrambled—out before Christmas.
I also have some unrelated work in progress . . . The first Marshal to the wild frontier of the Asteroid Belt, and an orphaned werewolf raised by very nice (and very tolerant) foster parents who goes off to seek his blood relatives—and might live to regret it.
Email [email protected] to join the mailing list for notifications of new releases, or follow me on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/pam.uphoff
Other Titles by Pam Uphoff
Wine of the Gods Series:
Outcasts and Gods
Exiles and Gods (Three Novellas)
The Black Goats
Explorers
Spy Wars
One Alone
Comet Fall
A Taste of Wine (Seven Tales)
Dark Lady
Growing Up Magic (Four Novellas)
Young Warriors
God of Assassins
Heirs of Crown and Spear
The Fiend
Empire of the One
Warriors of the One
Dancer
Earth Gate
Mages at Large
Art Theft
Triplets
Sea Wolves
Bad Karma
Dark Side of the Moon
Cascades
Olympian
Embassy
Rael
On the Run
God of the Sun
Cannibal World
No Confidence
Pure Poison
Flying
Last Merge
Nowhere Man
Black Point Clan
External Relations
Mall Santa
Saturday Night
The Direct
orate Series:
Directorate School
A Tale of Three Interns
Trouble in Paradise
First Posting
Surveillance
Fort Dinosaur
Shadow Zone
Project Dystopia
Fractured Loyalties
The Lawyers of Mars
Fancy Free
Time Loop
In the Rift
Writing as Zoey Ivers
YA Cyberpunk Adventures:
The Barton Street Gym
Chicago
Atlantis+
Fantasy:
Demi God
