9 Lawrence - Just where have you been all morning? (1/2)
”Lawrence!”
I immediately had an out of body experience.
”Just where have you been all morning?” A voice exploded behind me.
Pulling myself together, I turned and with a calm facade looked down at no less a personage than Ambassador Harump himself. Imp was having hysterics. I could hear him mumbling to himself between hardy guffaws, [Scared him right out of his skin!] Dad was right. He would stoop to anything, for a laugh. However, he always came through in a pinch.
”I want you in uniform and in my office in ten minutes! If it takes you any longer, don't bother coming!” The Ambassador exploded, huffing and blowing, his ordinarily pale, emaciated face puffy and red.
The old man looked as if he were near to having apoplexy. I said, ”Yes, sir!” Saluted and ran for my room leaving the ambassador staring bug-eyed after me. Today had been just too much—I mean, practice can only go so far, and before today, practice was all I'd had.
The old man had startled me all right. I had started down that hall at full speed. Considering that Draco weighted in at just over three-quarters Gee and I'd trained at Three Gee, I must have put on a startling show, to say the least.
By the time I reached the corner, I had myself under control and was proceeding at a more moderate pace. I turned the corner and glanced back. The Ambassador was still standing there, his jaw hanging loosely, a look of disbelief on his face, as I looked, he shook his head, then turned and walked away.
I managed to get to my room with no serious encounters. My augmented vision helped me to avoid getting caught while allowing me to travel at the maximum possible speed, although a few people did look twice at my unseemly haste.
When safely in my room, I exploded at full speed, this was where my ballet training helped, coordinating this speed took control. A whirlwind tour of the fresher removed any traces of my previous escapade. I hate the sonic shower—it may get you clean quickly. However, it is not the same as showering with real water, hot water.
After wasting a couple of seconds hopping around the room, with both feet in one leg of my trousers, to the accompaniment of Imps laughter, I slowed slightly and finished dressing. The royal purple trousers with black stripes made a sharp accent to the red and gold trimmed short white jacket. I checked the final details in my mirror. Handsome I thought, no way anyone would ever describe me as beautiful. I had an oval face with finely defined cheekbones; my square chin gave me a hard-bitten masculine look. My hair was too brown to be called blond, my eyes I thought of as cold blue, nickel-chromium blue, hard eyes, but more frequently they were a soft sky blue. Especially when I was with a child or dog—women had somewhat the same effect, but less often. Broad of shoulder with narrow hips, I thought that I cut a very dashing figure in my dress uniform. Imp deflated me with, [You're every maid's desire,] after that he dissolved into a gale of laughter.
Leaving my room, I backtracked to a service corridor that led almost directly to the Ambassador's office and turned on the speed. Robots, as a rule, don't care if they see you do the impossible. My augmented vision was able to amplify what light there was so that I could see any obstacles as I ran. Excepting a light cleaning robot out after a spill, most of the heavy-duty jobs were parked off the side of the corridor soaking up a charge. I left the service corridor and had to blink furiously while my eyes adjusted to the afternoon sun pouring in through the large panes of glass set into the outside wall of the main corridor. I sedately walked down a short hall to the main corridor a dozen steps took me to the hall that led to the Ambassador's office.
I combed my hair back with my fingers as I serenely walked up to his secretary, Miss Pauline Lushbt, the timer that Imp had been displaying for me just turning to nine minutes and forty-five seconds.
”Under Secretary Young to see Ambassador Harump,” I stated to the secretary. Rumor had it that she couldn't even type. She was certainly decorative! Without looking at me, she put down her manicure kit, keyed her silentcom and announced me. I could read her lips very well, thank you. Releasing the key on the silentcom, she typed haltingly with two fingers on her keyboard. Then Pauline looked at me, square in the eyes, with her big baby blues. It was the first time she had ever looked directly at me and flashed me a megawatt smile; this flustered me. Rumor—well-substantiated rumor—said, she only dated Senior Secretaries or higher rank.
”Have a seat, he will be with you in a moment,” she simpered in a voice that was pure music. As I walked by into the anteroom, I noticed my file up on her monitor. Cynically I wondered if it included my credit report.
Miss Lushbt took every opportunity to knock things to the floor; after which she would slowly bend down and retrieve them, giving me a beautiful top-down view of her belly button and ”everything'' else. After a small eternity of this treatment, as well as being subjected to innumerable coy glances, and a hemline that had ridden to unbelievable heights as if by magic, the Ambassador huffed out of his office. Drilling me with his eyes, he flicked his head toward his office—then, still without a word, he led the way into his office.
[Imp, is he going to put me on the rack or get it over quickly and just have me, shot?] I asked as if he could possibly know.
[Don't worry,] Imp said. [I understand that you will never feel the bullet.]
[Funny,] I said, darkly.
”Mr. Young, I don't like this at all.”
I decided that he was going to have me shot right now and worry about the paperwork later.
”While you have been here, you have managed to bend, if not break every rule in the book. And as to the dance festival last month!” He threw his hands in the air, ”And now this . . . ” as he shook a paper, boasting a red banner with gold and purple stripes across the top, in my face.
It was beginning to look grim; I had only seen from a distance one other paper so branded; it was a top priority Imperial communiqué. As to the festival—how was I to know that the ambassador was just a dirty old man and that when he requested, 'That old classical dance with the feathers', meant he wanted Burlesque, not the Swan Lake Ballet with full orchestration—although it was among the most successful of festivals in recent history.
”I'll teach you to go over my head.” He raved, ”Maybe your family does have money, but that doesn't cut it with me. When your promotion to Under Secretary came through, I wondered, now I know! This,” and he waved the paper in my face again, ”only tells me to promote you to Senior Secretary and transfer you to any embassy with a current opening.”
My jaw dropped. It was getting to be too much today.