Clara had never been a morning person even in the best of circumstances and normally rolled out of bed as gracefully as a rusty door hinge. So she felt borderline shocked when her eyelids opened of their own accord before dawn. Despite all that had happened the day before, she felt remarkably rested and energized – as if all her joints had been oiled in the night. As she emerged from her cocoon of coverlets, her toes sank into the thick, soft carpet. She raised her hands above her head and stretched in satisfaction. It must be the mattress – so much better than sleeping in a tent!
The seductive smells of bacon, coffee, and something akin to cinnamon wafted under the bedroom door. Her stomach rumbled. She threw on a blue satin robe hanging on the closet door, stepped into a pair of cushy slippers, nipped into the restroom, and left the ladies' suites for the commons area.
Her teammates sat at a black oval table next to the transparent wall highlighting Agilis' blue-lit columned skyscrapers. Clara joined the others at the table and marveled at the lavish breakfast spread: platters of muffins, pancakes, and pastries sat accented with sugar-dusted berries. Poori, vegetable korma, dosa, sambar, and a rainbow of chutneys spiced the air. Dainty ramekins of custards swirled with red jam and lashed with whipped cream sat at each place setting. There were also two different kinds of quiche, a large platter of bacon and sausages, and a crystal bowl heaped high with dozens of native fruits. The men gamely downed all within an arm’s radius.
“Check out this room service, Clarity! Compliments of Governor Solidus!” Darian said through a mouthful of sausage. “I feel like I could eat a horse!”
“I could eat a haystack!” Tristan grinned as he dumped syrup on a two-inch stack of pancakes.
“I’m hungry, too!” Clara said as she grabbed a piece of quiche. “I'm also surprisingly awake. After all the stress yesterday, I thought I'd sleep till noon. But I feel like I could run a marathon … or at least a mile. Funny, huh?”
“I slept like the dead,” Raven said as she spooned tomato chutney onto a dosa. “By the way, Clara, did you see the clothes they put in our closets? So chic!”
Clara glanced down, suddenly self-conscious in her blue robe; everyone else looked dressed for the office. Except for Darian. He technically wore business attire, but with his cobalt tie draped carelessly over one shoulder and his office shirt hanging unbuttoned, he looked more like a low-budget model than a respectable research intern. “I haven't opened my closet yet,” she confessed.
“Oh! You're in for a treat!” Aliyah said. “I have no idea how they knew my size, but this blouse fits like a dream. I wonder if I can take it back home. But what surprises me most is that I don't feel desperate for coffee this morning.”
“Me neither,” Tristan concurred as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “But I think my biggest surprise was when I looked in the mirror; I practically had a beard this morning! But considering how much excitement we've had lately, it's understandable if our systems are a little off.”
“True,” Raven said as she wiped her mouth and reached for her fourth dosa.
Darian smiled as Raven reached for another bowl of chutney. “There now. I respect a woman who eats her mind. Not those half-starved wraiths who only eat grapefruit and celery. Who wants to wrap their arms around someone and find they're hugging themselves?”
Raven grinned as she spooned more chutney onto her plate. “I don't normally eat for an army, but all this interstellar adjusting has apparently roused my appetite. I never dreamed I'd be eating like a queen during this internship.”
“For real!” Aliyah said, muffin in hand. “Who knew they'd already have a hotel? And a city for crying out loud! And where exactly did all the people come from?”
“I was thinking about that,” Clara said as she drove her fork into her quiche. “Since the brief didn't mention any indigenous peoples on Elpis 7, what if folks from other colonies joined the initial forty colonists from Earth shortly after they settled?”
“Colonists colonizing other colonies?” Darian asked as he grabbed another pastry. “It's the only thing that makes sense. There haven't been any other wormholes from Earth save ours, and some of the older colonies have been around for decades. Regardless, I'm just glad to be here and not in some cold, dark cell.”
“Thanks to Governor Solidus,” Clara said. “I doubt Captain Karnak would have extended such hospitality if he hadn't shown up last night.”
“Clara,” Raven said in a hushed tone, “you may want to lower your voice when discussing His Eminence.”
“Why?” Darian asked. “You think the room's bugged or something?”
“It's a possibility,” Raven said. “Until we have some more facts, it's probably best to be cautious.”
“You want facts? Here's a couple,” Darian said. “They could have shot us when we landed or sent us to prison yesterday, but instead we're sitting in a hotel, eating a breakfast a thousand times better than the rations we brought.”
“Thanks to Governor Solidus,” Clara murmured as she upended her glass of fruit juice.
Raven shook her head and grinned wryly.
“All I'm saying,” Darian persisted, “is we've got it good here. Let's just roll with it and enjoy the ride.”
“Makes sense to me,” said Aliyah, raising her glass to Darian. “As long as I can do what I came here to do, I'm happy to do it in the lap of luxury.”
“Hear, hear,” said Clara good-naturedly as she lifted her own cup.
“I'm glad things have turned out well,” Raven said as she dabbed the corner of her mouth with a hotel monogrammed napkin. “But as long as we're on this planet, we are at the absolute mercy of our hosts. So I highly suggest we avoid speaking ill of anyone and try to be flexible.”
“Flexible?!” Darian frowned. “One minute I'm prisoner, the next I'm a prince. It's hard to keep up! But if it'll ease your mind, I'll try to be as nice as possible. By the way, is there any bacon left?”
Raven pointed to the platter on her left. “There's one piece.”
“It's mine!” Darian rose to his feet and snatched it.
Raven sighed. “You're so considerate, Darian.”
Clara chuckled quietly. It was good to hear her teammates bantering again.
As the interstellar interns finished their breakfast, the sky outside the window-wall soon turned lavender, then pink, then orange as the Elpis star made its morning appearance. Too soon, someone knocked on the door, snuffing the merriment from the room.
Clara set her fork down on her plate with a clink as Raven rose solemnly from the table and headed for the door. The others sat expectantly while Darian stuffed pastries into his pockets.
When Raven turned the door knob, everyone expected Commander Ballitor to march in with the day's orders. But to their relief, a slender young woman in a scarlet skirt suit stood in the doorway holding an armful of black binders. She wore black high heels, a black silk scarf, and had pulled her abundant brown hair into a professional low ponytail. There was something striking about the woman's face. She reminded Clara of a Russian Czarina, and the self-satisfied air with which she appraised those in the room strengthened this image.
Clara had always preferred sleep to fashion, but now felt decidedly under-dressed. She hadn't used so much as a tube of lip balm that morning and was still in her slippers. She wrapped her blue robe more tightly around her as Darian spied the female visitor and buttoned up his shirt.
The woman's full red lips curved into a bemused smile. “Good Elpis-rising, all. I trust you slept well?” she greeted as she walked into the living room area.
“We did, thank you,” Raven said as she closed the door. “And you are ..?”
“I am Eden Eastwood, head secretary to His Eminence. I've come to help facilitate your research internships.” Eden bent over to place her binders on the coffee table in such a way that her scarlet top emphasized everything but good taste. She stood to her feet and surveyed the nearly-empty breakfast table. “I'm glad you've all had a good meal. You each have a full schedule ahead. Taking each of your concentrations into account, I have arranged to have you shadow experts in your fields from after-rising to near-setting. They can help get you going in the right direction.”
“Thank you for taking the trouble,” Raven said.
Eden shrugged. “It's no trouble; it's my job. I hope you find these informational binders helpful. I've included a brief history of the Elpis 7 colony with an overview of our three tribes along with various environmental and social statistics. And as a bonus, each binder has a thin tablet to record audio and video for your research. Everything instantly uploads to Agilis' Neo-network so you won't have to worry about losing any data.” She picked up the top binder from the stack on the coffee table. “Mr. Darian Woods?”
Darian stood from the breakfast table and walked toward the lady in the red. He nearly tripped over a step, but recovered manfully. “At your service,” he said with a grin.
Eden handed Darian his binder. “You will be working with Dr. Harold Johnson — formerly Elpis 7’s top CEO, now professor of business and economics at the Agilis College. ”
“You have a college?” Tristan asked in astonishment. “Already?!”
“Forgive me, I misspoke,” Eden said as she bent to get the second binder from the stack. “I should have said 'university,' You must be Tristan Cunningham?”
“I am.” Tristan rose from his seat, nudged his glasses up his nose, and walked toward the secretary.
“You will be working with Dr. Sandra Eckleston – chief botanist of our Silex land management agency – SLM for short. She's been cataloging the flora of Elpis 7 for forever. And she's got quite a collection of native specimens in her greenhouse.”
“Maybe if you find some new weed, they'll name it after you, Tris,” Darian said, playfully punching the environmental scientist in the shoulder.
Tristan's red freckles disappeared as his whole face flushed. “Well … the thought may have occurred to me … once or twice ...” He cleared his throat.
“Aliyah Williams?”
“Yes, ma'am!” Aliyah smoothed down the front of her turquoise blouse and meandered around the table toward Eden.
“I'm afraid Agilis doesn't have a genetics counseling facility – I checked. But I did manage to connect you with Dr. Maldize, the head of our hospital system. What exactly is genetics counseling, if I may ask?”
Aliyah chuckled. “Originally, the field began as an educational resource for those coping with less-than-ideal medical conditions. But after the V. C. revolution, the medical community shifted from alleviating suffering to preventing it altogether. So I'm basically a life guard for the gene pool; it's my job to keep the pollutants out.”
“You can really prevent all deformities before they happen?” Eden asked after handing Aliyah her binder.
“Absolutely! And quality of life has gone through the roof!”
Eden sighed. “Earth sounds so efficient. I'm afraid the majority of citizens still hold to archaic notions when it comes to life and culture. Perhaps Agilis would benefit from a genetics counseling center in the future.”
“It's the only way to ensure the future,” Aliyah said as she opened her binder.
“Raven Ulric?”
Raven came from the door and accepted her black binder.
“As you wish to study government structures,” Eden said, “you get to shadow me as I help His Eminence.”
“Darn,” Darian said. “Is it too late to change my concentration?”
Eden smirked at him, then turned back to Raven. “The Grand Assembly meets shortly after midday, so between them and His Eminence, you'll get a full picture of our clan government.”
“Thank you. I was curious about His Eminence's role,” she said cautiously. “I know he is powerful and the military answers to him. But how does he relate to the Assembly, exactly?”
“He's the Prime Counselor,” Eden said with a perfunctory nod, as if this definition were all-sufficient.
“Has His Eminence been elected to a lifelong position or does he serve a limited term?”
Eden smiled. “His Eminence advises both the governor and the Grand Assembly since he has more experience than anyone else. After all, he's one of the original colonists, and most people defer to his good judgment — except those too obtuse to accept it.”
“One of the original colonists?” Clara piped up, still sitting at the breakfast table. “Aren't the other original colonists still here?”
Eden hesitated, then changed the subject. “You must be Clara Milton?”
“Yes ...” Clara said, awkwardly rising from her seat. She felt keenly aware of her squishy slippers as she walked down to the living room level and stood before the woman in heels.
Eden arched an eyebrow. “Your topic was tricky. I contacted various heads of university departments, but apparently everyone is busy at a sociological convention. So I thought you might like to research a more unique Elpis 7 culture outside the city.”
Outside the city? Clara wondered. Away from the team? She felt her stomach tense involuntarily as she shifted from one slipper to the other. But aloud she said, “I did come to study something new ...”
“Then new is what you'll get,” Eden handed the black binder to Clara. “I thought you might enjoy our most ...” Eden wrinkled her brow searching for a suitable adjective, “... traditional clan: Almitas. It's a moderate hovercraft ride from the hotel to your mentor's home. You will all be provided with hovercraft and may come and go as you please so long as you put these on.” Despite the way her skirt suit clung to her curves with little margin, Eden somehow retained use of her pockets. She reached into her right one and drew out five flat semi-translucent black stones with cobalt marbling. She handed them to the interns. Each was the size and thickness of a small coin and had a golden clasp on one side.
“What are they?” Raven asked, holding hers up to the light.
“They’re your keys to the city.” Eden smiled. “Each one has a unique metallic signature. All you need to do is affix the stone to your clothing, and proprietors can scan it. Anything you want to buy, anywhere you want to go, just flash this badge and all fees will be charged to the Grand Assembly – up to four hundred units a day. You are our first interstellar guests and most favored.”
Clara twirled the smooth stone in her fingers. It felt smooth and surprisingly heavy for something so small. Then she looked up at Eden. “Excuse me, did you say we were your first interstellar guests? Other people haven't settled here from other colonies?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Eden said. “Your shuttle was the first thing to hit our planet from outer space since the Fire Stone.”
“Fire Stone?” Tristan asked, adjusting his spectacles.
“The meteorite that His Eminence wears around his neck. I mention it in your binder briefs.” Just then, a small alarm dinged from Eden's wrist. She held up her hand and tapped a small screen. “That's my three degree warning. You all have that amount of time to get ready to meet your mentors.” She nodded specifically in Clara's direction.
Clara blushed.
“Three degrees?” Raven asked. “How long is that in Earth time?”
Eden cocked her head. “You don't use degrees on Earth?”
“We do if we're discussing temperature or direction. But not time,” Tristan answered.
“Well, our time is based upon our planet's rotation. Think of it like a circle with 360 degrees. Elpis rises at zero and sets at 180. See?” Eden held her wrist band up to the group to show an arc cross-hatched with dozens of small lines. It reminded Clara of a tiny protractor.
Eden continued. “Right now, we're at degree five. I scheduled you to start your internships by degree twelve. So you have three degrees to get ready, one to board your hovercraft, and three to travel to your appointments. And before you get flustered, Miss Milton, I allotted several more degrees for your commute time. As long as you report to your hovercraft promptly, you won't be late.”
“So … not to sound redundant,” Darian said, “but how many minutes would three degrees be, again?”
“Minutes?” Eden looked confused.
Tristan tried a different tack. “Eden, do you know how long it takes for your planet to rotate on its axis?”
His Eminence's personal secretary frowned. “I just told you: 360 degrees.”
“Yes, but in hours?”
“What's an hour?”
Clara looked down at her slippers to hide her amusement. I wonder how long this conversation will take …
Tristan tried to clarify. “On Earth, one hour equals sixty of our minutes … but I guess that doesn't mean much to you, does it?”
“Sorry,” Eden said as she held up her wrist band. “But you've already used half a degree discussing this. I will meet you downstairs in the lobby in two degrees. I'll also make a note to get you some Elpis 7 time pieces. You'll be needing them.”
“Thanks for everything,” Raven said. “We're truly grateful for your hospitality.”
“You may thank His Eminence later.” Eden nodded and walked toward the door. Then she turned back to the group with her hand on the knob. “I almost forgot! The scan-stones also serve as communicators so you can keep in contact with one another. If you double-tap your stone and name the person with whom you wish to speak, you should be able to reach one another within about 480 furlongs or so.”
“Furlongs?” Darian asked. “What's a furlong?”
“We can discuss units of measurement later,” Eden said as she turned toward the hall.
“Tonight?” Darian asked before she disappeared through the door.
Eden paused. “Perhaps … if my current plans happen to change. I'll see you downstairs.”
The door clicked shut.
“So how long do we have to get ready?” Darian repeated.
Tristan pushed his glasses up his nose. “I can't be sure without an exact duration for planetary rotation. But assuming 360 degrees equals roughly twenty-four hours, I'd say a degree is about four minutes.”
“Four minutes?!” Clara's eyes nearly doubled in size as her adrenaline kicked into high gear. “I've only got six minutes to get dressed?”
“Five, now.” Raven said with a slight smile playing on her lips. Punctuality had never been one of Clara's strong suits, and she'd nearly missed the school bus on more than one occasion. “You'd best scoot! There's a makeup kit in the restroom. You might want to take that to go and just focus on getting out of those slippers.”
“Thanks!” Clara didn't need to be told twice. She dashed to her room, kicked off her slippers, threw her robe onto the bed, and was peeling her nightgown over her head when she accidentally dropped the scan-stone Eden had given her. Instead of landing on the plush carpet, it hit the rock-hard end table with a sound that made Clara's heart stop.
She froze. Her throat went dry. Oh no! She examined the dark stone with trembling fingers and exhaled with relief when she couldn't find any cracks. Whew! That was close.
Then the thing crackled to life.
Clara nearly dropped it again! But she caught it just in time and and held it next to her ear. There were men's voices speaking to one another: “Yes, sir.” “All online, sir.” “Switching frequencies.”
Another crackle. Then the sound stopped.
Clara looked the stone over again. Had she somehow damaged the thing or had there been some glitch? Who were those men? She wasn't sure why, but something about the little black stone made her feel uneasy.
Someone knocked on her door. “Clara, you almost ready?” asked Raven, her voice muffled. “We need to head down to the lobby.”
“Coming!” Clara called. She glanced at her half-clothed form in the full length mirror on the wall and added, “I'll meet you downstairs!”
“Alright. Come as soon as you can.”
Clara flung open her closet doors and grabbed a pair of dark gray slacks and black sleeveless blouse. She could ask about the little communicator later; right now she needed to find that makeup kit, throw on some shoes, and book it to her hovercraft before she missed her first meeting with her mentor.
She had less than a degree to reach the lobby.
So what do you think?
Last week’s question was a bit heavy, so here’s a lighter topic. I want to hear your funny stories of running late. Bonus points if it involves a first impression of some kind. :)
Love this concept of "degrees!" I'm intrigued.
Wow loving this sto