Date: June 4th, 2440 Time: 5:30 PM CST
“You wished to see me, Lord Marmaduke?” K’rem asked, comfortable enough to walk through the open office doorway, but nowhere close to calling him Matthew in public—and certainly not in front of other V’ren.
“I did,” Matt said, standing. Every V’ren in the room shot to their feet, reaching their full height before he was even halfway up. Part of him wanted to test how many times he could stand up and sit back down before they got tired of it and just stayed standing.
He missed the days when standing up just meant you needed another beer—when people didn’t straighten their backs like they were under inspection every time he moved. He wasn’t built for thrones and protocol. Just crops, dogs, and decent boots.
He wondered if he should get a dog. There were several on the property, but none of them were his. He decided against it.
The cat asleep on the edge of his desk twitched in its dreams. He was tempted to knock off the edge, out of a sense of cosmic karma justice, and as champion of inanimate objects minding their own business throughout history.
“Angelina,” he said, not even raising his voice, “tell the rest of the staff it’s time.”
She didn’t flinch. Hadn’t moved any more than the cat when he stood.
Of course, she hadn’t.
A few more clicks on her tablet, a push of updates to the necessary apps, and then she finally rose, sending the message with the label non-discretionary.
“Message sent,” she said.
“Everyone take fifteen and meet in the driveway,” Matt replied. “Except you, K’rem.”
K’rem waited until the others filed out, then closed the door behind them.
“They entered orbit around lunchtime,” he said.
“Are we ready to receive them in the morning?”
“Just after dawn,” K’rem confirmed, trying not to shift in his seat.
“Back bothering you?”
“Sorry,” K’rem murmured, forcing himself to sit still, regardless of the pain.
“Don’t be,” Matt said, waving it off. “We’re old soldiers. Except that old hag,” he added, nodding toward Angelina, “who probably did more face plants than either of us just playing high school volleyball.”
“I will have you know I’m not old,” she huffed. “And I’m calling Kimmy to see to K’rem.”
“One of the perks of working for me,” Matt said, grinning, “is that if you work in the house, you get an on-site chiropractor and massage therapist.”
“Who will be seeing you in about ninety minutes?” Angelina added, placing her phone back on the desk.
“I don’t work in the house,” K’rem said stiffly.
“Sure you do,” Matt said, gesturing lazily. “Angelina’s been prepping your office all day. She even brought in the electronics tech T’mari recommended to get everything perfect.”
“My quarters are still on the ship.”
“Only because you choose to have them over there,” Angelina told him.
“You’ve been offered them here, my brother.”
“I do appreciate it, but I am still overseeing most of my people, and it is best they see me.”
“Our people,” Matt gently corrected him—not to scold, but to remind him the burden was not his alone. “You’re probably right about that. Seeing you helps morale. I’m still keeping a room open for you here.”
“Did your phone update?” Angelina asked K’rem, who looked and nodded.
“Let’s go end the speculation about what’s behind my trailer.”
Matt stood on the porch and accepted a beer, hoping this worked out better than last night. “This is the last order of official business tonight,” he said, taking a swig. “K’rem T’all, my green brother, you’ve worked as hard or harder than anyone else on getting things arranged—not just for our people on the ground, but those who are still to arrive. You gave me your starship and didn’t even object too harshly when our people renamed it the Squished Possum. I’ll remind you that seventy thousand of those votes had to come from your fellow V’ren, so don’t blame the rednecks,” Matt chuckled, along with all the other humans, regardless of their ability to sunburn.
“In honor of that hard work and sacrifice,” Matt said, flourishing his phone at the trailer, he started the sequence to unfold for the waiting crowd, “I wanted you to feel like you’re really one of us. Let’s go take your new truck for a drive.”
K’rem considered himself a hard man to surprise—but in this moment, he was pretty sure his jaw was hanging open. He realized he should say something before he started drooling.
“She’s beautiful,” he said at last, running a reverent hand over the turquoise and white truck’s hood. He pressed the button on the door handle and was rewarded with the most satisfying click he’d ever heard.
“Get in,” Matt called from the passenger side, waiting for K’rem to take his seat first.
“I’m speechless,” K’rem admitted, his fingers brushing across the dashboard and console. “I have no idea how to drive this.”
“I know,” Matt said, waving it off. “Just put your phone there,” he pointed to the cradle, “and push that button. Until you get the hang of it, keep it in auto mode. Just tell it where you want to go.”
“It responds to voice commands?”
“Yup. Hit that button and you’ll get a map—currently set to the local area. You can also choose from a list.”
K’rem flicked through the options, then blinked. “The language default… It’s set to V’ren?”
“That was L’tani’s idea,” Matt said. “She thought it might help you feel more comfortable while you learn.”
“She’s thoughtful,” K’rem murmured, swiping through the heads-up display.
“Has she said anything about wanting one of these?”
“She wants to learn in my Porsche.”
K’rem stared at him. “I believe the local phrase is: God help us.”
Matt laughed. “You’re not wrong.”
