The guests are called to dinner.

The odors of the food

and the free-flowing wine

have everyone intoxicated

with anticipation.

Once they assemble around the table,

and the servants

bring the first course,

the Supreme Executive

bows his head

and enfoldes his hands

in prayer.

Everyone around the table

follows suit.

The Supreme Executive speaks

in prayer,

“We thank the All-or-Nothing for this great

bounty,

and we pray that He forgives our sins

as He forgave the sins of His

annointed One Son,

Yeshua.

Amen.”

“Amen,” the guests echo in chorus.

The appetizer is scrumptious bites

of a newly designed fish

coated in a light olive sauce

and an audacious amount of pepper

that only whet the guests’ appetites

further.

The Supreme Executive sits

at the head of the table,

with She-What on his right,

and Melissan Spode on his left.

To She-What’s right

sits Moses Fawkes,

but sitting next to Melissan

is an Aze woman She-What

does not recognize,

whom the Supreme Executive introduces

after She-What has tried the appetizer.

“Adena, this is Doctor Lei Ambu Sala,

one of the most esteemed scientists

in the Black Hemisphere.

Dr. Sala is formerly of the ignoble country

of Otai.”

The defector smiles at She-What.

“I am honored to join Thunder Corporation

to continue my research.”

“What made you leave Otai, Dr. Sala?”

She-What asks.

“I wanted my freedom,” Dr. Sala replies.

“Here at Thunder Corporation,

I can be free.”

“We are very excited to have Dr. Sala

on board,”

says the Supreme Executive,

with a broad smile.

“What kind of research do you do, Dr. Sala?”

asks Melissan Spode.

“Oh,” Dr. Sala answers,

“Nothing terribly interesting.

All theoretical, really.”

“Dr. Sala is going to help Thunder Corporation

embrace the future,”

the Supreme Executive says.

Dr. Sala laughs bashfully.

“I will do what I can.”

“The Future,” the Supreme Executive adds,

“Does not wait.”

“So, Princess Adena,” says Moses,

nudging her with his elbow,

“Tell me about your trip to Zamqat Bu...”

“Not much to tell,” She-what answers.

“A wasted trip.”

“And the Library of Despair?”

“Dust.”

“Then your trip was not a waste,”

Moses tells her.

“Knowledge is like a garden —

Some branches

must be pruned.”

“I did see that bird you told me about.”

“Which one?”

“The trackle crow.”

“Ah!” Moses laughs. “An amazing creature.

In lean seasons, the female

will devour half her young

to regurgitate for the other half.”

She-What feels someone

watching her,

and her eyes meet those

of Melissan Spode,

who looks at our heroine

with an inscrutable expression,

before turning and smiling

at something the Supreme Executive says.

A peel of laughter rings out

from down the table

Secretary Fumeo and his mistress

are drunk.

"Princess Adena..." a voice says.

She turns to her right,

and sees the Deputy City Police Commissioner,

Douglyn Stuert,

staring at her

with enquiring eyes.

"Yes. Mr. Stuert?"

"Pardon me, Princess,

but you have seen the news

about the reactor explosion?"

Stuert is in his early sixties,

mustached, with salt and pepper hair,

frumpy clothes,

and crows’ feet

like ancient, dried up river valleys.

“Yes, I have heard,” says She-What.

“I assure you,” says Stuert,

“our best detectives are on the case.”

“That’s good to hear.

Was anyone killed?”

“No.

The reactors are 97% automated.”

“I see.

What do you know so far?”

“What do I know so far...”

Stuert repeats,

looking down at his plate.

“I think...”

he says hesitantly,

“That we may have

a serious problem.”

She-What’s eyes dart around

to see who is listening.

Stuert is not known

for being politically savvy.

“Oh?” she asks. “What do you mean?”

“Infiltrating a reactor...”

Stuert begins,

“Is not a simple business.

The security is tight...

exceptional, really.”

“If that were the case,

there would have been

no explosion,”

She-What points out,

hoping to bump Stuert

off his path.

Stuert is not deterred.

“That’s my point, Princess.

This was not an amateur operation...

whoever did this

is quite serious,

and well-funded.”

“What are you saying, Deputy Commisioner?”

“What I am saying...”

Stuert repeats, rubbing his hands together.

She-What feels Moses touch her elbow,

“Ooooh,”

the old scholar says into her ear,

“Braised Maériene lobster...”

The servants are bringing out

the next course,

holding the plates above their heads

like they are awarding trophies.

“My favorite,” Moses says, licking his lips.

“You know, Princess,

when I was young,

Maériene lobster was a

once-in-a-year dish,

it was so rarely in season.”

She-What pretends to laugh,

her eyes glancing at Stuert,

who is obviously disheartened

he did not say what he wanted to.

She thanks Moses silently,

realizing he was listening the whole time.

to be continued.....