Reavers (Book 3) (29 page)

“My predecessor’s idea.”  A smile filled Humphrey’s face.  “From the sound of it, you two fought more often than an old married couple.”

As Rhea fumed, he handed a pad to her.  Prominently displayed was a picture of her expression as she had leaned over the desk moments ago.  It was the single most embarrassing thing she had ever seen.

“He asked for proof that I’d pulled his little gag for him,” Humphrey mumbled as he nodded to the pad.

“You didn’t!”

“Well, I did
and
didn’t.”

“What?”

“I did take the picture, but I didn’t send it.”  He reached over and tapped on the pad in her hands.  “I think you’ve suffered enough for now.”

Using large letters, the pad asked if she really wanted to erase the image.  Without a moment’s hesitation she tapped on the affirmative.

“Don’t think this little act of charity will let you off the hook,” she said as she flopped back in her chair.  “That was a horrible thing to do!”

“What is all the racket in here?” Grand Executive Catala asked as she peered through the open doorway.

Rhea instantly realized Humphrey hadn’t completely entered her office, and the door had remained open the entire time.  Everyone on the floor must have heard her shouting.  For the first time, she regretted having on office on the same floor as the head of the corporation.  If a supervisor had peeked in, it would have been one thing, but for the head of the ITU to be staring at her was too much.  As she slowly died from embarrassment, Humphrey turned and saluted.

“No need for that trooper,” Catala said quickly.  “I’ve never held a rank in the military.”

“Maybe this will make up for things,” Humphrey mumbled as he tossed a glance at Rhea.  “I’m here to report the military has decided to adjust the size of your PSF.”

“Really?” Catala asked in a concerned tone.  “What’s the damage?”

“The military has decided that given the current amount of pirate activity, the Independent Traders Union may requisition an
additional
fifteen percent if they desire.”

Rhea stared at him with narrowing eyes.

“Seriously,” he mumbled.  “Check the pad if you don’t believe me.”

Catala stared at Rhea, urging her to double-check.  Glancing down, she found a document already open.  She had been so focused on her embarrassing picture she hadn’t noticed anything else.  Quickly scanning through the document, he stood up again.

“He’s not kidding,” she said in awe.  “They are letting us have more ships.”

“Why?” Catala asked Humphrey curiously.

“I’m not a politician,” he mumbled with a shrug.  “Something about it being cheaper this way.  If I had known I was going to be quizzed on it, I would have paid attention.”

With a burst of laughter, Catala turned and left the small office - shouting the good news to anyone nearby.

“You had this all planned, didn’t you?” Rhea asked as she thrust the pad back at him.

“Planned is a strong word,” he mumbled as he returned the pad to his pocket.  “More like I knew you’d kill me if I didn’t show up with some good news.”

“I might just kill you anyways.”

“Could you at least wait until after lunch?  I haven’t eaten yet.”

“I didn’t say you could join me,” Rhea said angrily as Humphrey followed her.

He didn’t respond.  His attention was locked on the various restaurants that lined the street.  Reloas housed the main operating staff and facilities of the Independent Traders Union and, as such, had a massive population to take care of.  The unassuming rim world had been painstakingly altered over the years to serve as the homeworld of the single largest corporation in the entire Commonwealth.

To Humphrey all that meant was there were a lot of different food options to consider.  The man following her was completely ignorant of why there was so much variety and probably blissful in that ignorance.  Rhea sighed.  It would be pointless to try and explain to him that with people from all over the Commonwealth working for the ITU, Reloas had the local delicacies from every edge of known space.  Her explanations of the grace and majesty of the corporation would undoubtedly fall on deaf ears.

On the other hand, at least he had left ITU headquarters.  Humphrey’s predecessor had eaten nothing but military rations he had special ordered, as if eating ITU food would corrupt him somehow.  He made a point to complain over the extravagance of Reloas’ culinary variety before every meal.  He also chewed with his mouth open.  Abruptly, Humphrey snatched her hand and bolted off down the street.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she shouted angrily as she kept pace.

He ignored her as she tried to shake her hand free.  Rhea started to blush as she realized she was causing a scene.  Among the faces staring at them, she had spotted more than a few coworkers.  He would pay for this.

“Perfect!” he mumbled at a level that barely failed to reach normal conversation.

Without warning, he had stopped his running and had dragged her into a restaurant before she had been able to read the sign.  A man dressed in an ugly orange suit was sitting idly on a stool.  A sneer filled his face when he noticed the two newcomers.  Without a word, Humphrey extended his hand toward the orange-suited man.

The way he presented his hand was strange, looking very uncomfortable.  With a burst of laughter, the maitre d' took the offered hand and the two engaged in an elaborate, if not somewhat clumsy handshake.  As she stared in surprise, the maitre d' whistled toward a coworker who immediately pushed two ITU personnel out of the booth they had been sitting in.

“The food was horrible anyway,” one of the men grumbled as he dusted himself off and waddled off toward the door.

Before she could ask what was going on, a waitress led them to the
now
empty table as a couple of kitchen staff quickly cleared it.

“Wha’ll yah hav?” she asked in an odd accent Rhea couldn’t place.

“Two specials,
home style
,” Humphrey said with a wide smile.

The waitress smiled warmly and winked at him.  Rhea stared in disbelief as the waitress
skipped
away, humming a happy tune.  Never in her entire time on Reloas had she seen such a display.  Suddenly, she realized she was the only remaining person in the entire restaurant wearing an ITU uniform.  She recognized a few faces as employees working in her department, but for some reason they had apparently gone through the trouble of changing outfits before heading off to lunch.  She had never seen such tasteless clothing.

“What is going on?” she asked, exasperated.

“You know, I haven’t had a bit of home cooking since I joined the military,” Humphrey mumbled as he took in the décor.  “Guess Reloas really does have everything.”

“Home cooking?  What are you going on about?”

“Oh, and I’ll pick up the bill; maybe that will make up for this morning.”

“Don’t change the subject!  Where have you taken me?”

Before Humphrey could answer, the waitress set two plates down on the table.  In the center of the plates were large mounds of blackish meat, ringed with oddly colored vegetables.  The food no doubt came from Szöllös.  Rhea had never actually eaten Szöllös cuisine, but it was universally regarded as the one thing that was worse than D rations.  Without hesitation, Humphrey impaled some of the meat with a fork and started eating.  To her surprise, he seemed not just to be enjoying the meal but actually delighting in it.

“Not hungry?” he mumbled when he realized she hadn’t touched her plate.

“You can eat this
stuff
?” she asked quietly so the restaurant workers wouldn’t hear her.

“Try it before you knock it,” Humphrey mumbled with a smile.  “I bet this is the first time you’ve even seen it in person.”

“I don’t need to taste garbage to know what it is!”

“Is everything to your liking?” the maitre d' asked having noticed Rhea’s clamor.

“Everything is wonderful,” Humphrey mumbled with an emphatic nod.  “She’s just a little surprised is all.  I just turned down her marriage proposal.”

“
What
!” Rhea screamed.  “How dare you!  Don’t say . . .”

Humphrey shoved a fork full of the dark meat into her mouth.  He had been waiting for her to open her mouth just wide enough.  The maitre d' burst into laughter as he realized what had happened.  Her first impulse was to spit out the food immediately.  However, with the two men staring at her, she couldn’t stand the idea of further humiliation.

Gingerly chewing the meat, she wondered if it would make her ill.  As she cautiously swallowed, she realized it hadn’t tasted all that bad.  Not the best thing she had ever eaten by far, but palatable.  In fact, it was very bland.  She had no idea why the food had developed such a nasty reputation.  It was more boring than dreadful.

“Well?” the maitre d' asked expectantly.

“It’s good; not great, but good,” Rhea said as she wiped her mouth.

“That is the highest praise we’ve received from a non-local.”  The maitre d' chuckled to himself as he returned to his post.

“You’ll pay for that,” she seethed as soon as the waiter was out of hearing range.

“I bet I will,” he mumbled nonchalantly as he returned to his meal.  “Be careful of the vegetables though.  They pack a punch if you’re not ready.”

Taking his advice, she slowly separated them to one side of her plate.  After all the excitement and turmoil of the morning, she decided she might as well enjoy what was left of her lunch and earnestly ate the plate of bland food.

“You’ve got a pretty good set up here,” Humphrey mumbled just as he was about finished.

Rhea paused to look up at him.  Neither one of them had said a word and had eaten in complete silence.

“Jealous?” she taunted.

“Maybe a little.”

“Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because we are friends.”

“Go easy on me?  So you’re okay with me taking this position?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”  Rhea shrugged.  “No one else would take the assignment, right?”

“They could always find someone else.  I’m sure they could drop the assignment in the lap of some poor trooper fresh out of the academy.”

“I suppose . . . why do you even care?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve taken the assignment.  You said it paid well.  Why do you care if I want you here or not?  Technically, I’ve never wanted any of the military liaisons they’ve forced me to work with.”

“Same old Rhea.”  Humphrey chuckled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sure you blamed each and every one of them for
your
mistakes.”

“Who said I make mistakes?”

“Fine, fine, I won’t argue with Miss perfect.  So, how’s your dad?”

“As well as can be expected.  He was fired along with most of the administrative staff for working with the Shard.”

“Even though they didn’t know it at the time?”

“Everyone needs a scapegoat from time to time.  Someone had to take the blame for the tragedy.”

“That’s cold, even for you.  Don’t you have compassion for your own father?”

“I wouldn’t let it bother you.  Once things calmed down, Catala gave the fired new positions.  Nothing with power mind you, but something to keep them busy and pay the bills.  Her way of thanking them for the years of service.”

“And that’s it?”

“Well, I do visit him on weekends.  When I have time.  Your predecessors kept me busy.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” Humphrey mumbled with a smile.  “My only interest is doing the
absolute minimum
to keep getting paid.  Beyond that, you can do what you like.  Maybe I’ll even tag along.”

“To see my dad?” Rhea asked in surprise.

“Why not?  From what I hear, he’s living in the most lavish district of the planet.  A sort of retirement paradise set up for executives and the like.  Although, I can’t imagine there is a place even fancier than the capital.”

“Now you listen here!  This is my job
and
my home.  I won’t waste my time playing your tour guide.  Find some other way to amuse yourself!”

“Like being a good military liaison?”  Humphrey leaned back and grinned sinisterly.  “I suppose I could entertain myself by doing my job.  The fact it would make you miserable is an added bonus.”

“You . . .”

A loud crash suddenly filled the room.  A waitress had dropped an entire stack of plates.  She was backing away from a booth containing a single man.  The maitre d’ was already talking to the man.

“Now, sir.  I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the maitre d' said both politely and forcefully.

“I’ll ‘ave to isit Szöllös one of eese days,” the man said in an odd lisp as he rose from the booth.  “I ‘onder if everyone from that silly ittle world is as gutsy as ‘ou.”