Date: 6/3/2440 Time: 12:45 PM CST
“You have guests—let me take care of the horses,” Shelia said, waving Matt toward the house. “You smell like a horse. You might want to shower first.”
“Absolutely. Do you think Candace will scrub my back?”
“Get on with you,” she laughed, exasperated.
“Who is Candace?” T’mari asked, more at ease now after a few hours with Matt—not Matthew, and certainly not the High Lord of the V’ren. She liked just Matt, but it stung that he’d never shown interest in her, no matter how subtly she’d tried to get his attention. She couldn’t bond with him, even if she were of sufficient social rank.
“Her little sister—the one I told you about. What I didn’t mention was how I used the excuse of post-ride stink to get her in the shower with me. We were prepping for a dinner party, and her mother, who hated me, walked in on us. Wet, naked, and kissing.”
“What does the younger sister do now?”
“She’s the principal of the school in Marshall. Did you meet Thomas?”
“I did. He had many children.”
“She’s the mother of all eleven. Three sets of triplets and a pair of twins. Only one boy.”
“And why did her mother disapprove of you?”
“Because she knew something I didn’t. Turns out she was my grandfather’s illegitimate daughter. That makes her my aunt. So Candace and Shelia are my first cousins.”
“I understand now,” T’mari said, smiling. “I also understand Shelia a little better.”
“Greetings,” Matt said as he stepped into the kitchen, where Angelina was entertaining a gaggle of academic and bureaucratic geese. He was ready to compliment her for not wringing the neck of any of them, but then he remembered the pie cooling on the counter and decided she’d been rewarded enough.
“I didn’t know I was expecting guests. Please excuse the smell—we were out riding. I’ll be with you shortly, in my office.”
By the time Matt returned—showered and dressed—T’mari was already seated beside his desk. She wore black lace-up jeans, a fitted brown camisole, burgundy boots, and a matching blazer. He tried not to stare, wondering if Angelina had picked the outfit. He suddenly felt underdressed in khakis, a polo, and loafers.
“Welcome,” he said, taking his seat. “I understand a comms team was inbound. If you’re here for that, please raise your hand, and let the team lead introduce themselves.”
“I’m Dianne Little Horse, your new executive assistant. This is Mariah Wentz, our communications lead.”
“Good to meet you both. I recognize one face—Professor Aziz. The Mind’s Eye was excellent. I just passed my copy to my V’ren cultural attaché, T’mari.”
“I look forward to reading it,” T’mari said, nodding. “Matthew suggested it might pass the time while traveling.”
“Please, call me Noor,” Aziz replied, clearly reassessing the dynamic.
Matt leaned forward. “Let’s not dance around it. Most of you are here on Amazon’s dime. You’re obligated to observe and report—that’s fine. If I want something hidden from you, you won’t find it. So let’s skip the games. Just ask. I prefer clarity.”
He turned to Dianne. “Where were you quartered?”
“A place called the Old Barn,” she said, slightly skeptical.
“You’ll be comfortable. Built in 1892, restored into a bed-and-breakfast with full conferencing facilities. Level 4 encrypted holo tank, kitchen, private BBQ area. Angelina’s team will keep it stocked. You’re invited to the bonfire and barbecue tomorrow—a good chance to meet the V’ren.”
“I’d like to speak with you, Officer T’mari,” Noor said.
“Please—just T’mari. And I believe I’m free this afternoon.”
Matt nodded. “T’mari could use an executive assistant too. Someone sharp, capable of managing schedules, and saying no.”
“I’d like that,” said Julia Valejo. “I interned with Amazon’s legal division the past two summers.”
“Director Eberhardt’s niece?”
“Yes. How did you—”
“There’s a misconception that I’m some hillbilly yokel because I avoid boardroom politics. I built two companies and was a captain in Military Special Services. Underestimate me at your peril. We’ll speak privately. T’mari?”
“I do not object.”
“Then you’re hired. Julia, stay after. Dianne, Mariah—you too. Everyone else, go settle in. You’ll be well taken care of.”
As the room cleared, Matt continued. “The rest of you—intelligence assets, I assume. That’s fine. Noor, I know your purpose. Let’s talk professional goals. T’mari’s time on the planet is short.”
“Should I expect to go off planet with you?” Julia asked.
Matt looked to T’mari.
“Do you enjoy Earth comforts?” T’mari asked.
“Yes?”
“Then space would be difficult. Food is synthetic, space is tight, and privacy doesn’t exist. I’ll return in three days. That might be a better time to visit. May I ask your age?”
“Three months shy of twenty-one.”
“Good. While I’m gone, one favor—there’s a group of young V’ren women, Earth-age seventeen to twenty-two, curious to meet someone closer to their background.”
“I can do that—and I can bring some of my sorority sisters, if you like.”
“We’ll discuss that later,” Matt said. “Now, let’s hear from the rest.”
A calm voice spoke first. “Dr. Elias Mbeki. Linguistic systems architecture. I map non-linear grammar for AI. Geneva’s translation core brought me in to model V’ren logic.”
“You’ll liaise with Noor and Mariah.”
A woman with cropped hair leaned forward. “Dr. Kyra Bell. Cultural systems theorist. Formerly with the UN Memory Archive. I map identity shifts under tech pressure. I’m here to spot friction before it starts.”
“Our high-borns,” T’mari said gently, “expect subtlety, not invisibility. Walk that line well.”
Next was a compact man with worn knuckles. “Jin Choudhury. Technologist and engineer. Here to evaluate V’ren systems and advise on Earth-standard integration. I do both hardwire and holotank.”
“You’ll embed with V’ren engineering. When she returns, T’mari will want to speak with you.”
A soft-voiced woman spoke next. “Dr. Mahira Sloan. Intercultural pedagogy. I’d like to observe mutual instruction—help build a shared training language.”
T’mari brightened. “Would you meet with junior officers? They’re curious about Earth models of leadership.”
“I’d be honored.”
Then came a man with a quiet, confident edge. “Declan Fraser. Applied logistics. I’ve done warzone coordination and orbital crisis response. I’m here to identify weak points and build the joint emergency map.”
“You’ll report to Facilities Ops and meet Shelia. That’s not optional.”
The final speaker was striking, with a half-sleeve tattoo peeking from under her blouse. “Dr. River Kallista. Ritual anthropologist. I decode ceremonial systems. I’d like to observe V’ren public rites and help document meaning-making as contact deepens.”
T’mari regarded her with interest. “That is not what I expected. We do not ritualize lightly, but when we do, it speaks.”
“That’s why I’m here. Sorry I missed last night. I’ve met Dr. Tamara Marmaduke—your cousin, I believe?”
“My cousin’s wife. They live in Columbia but are here often enough.”
Matt stood. “Seven new names, seven justifiable roles. So far, no one’s wasting space. I’ll be watching—and I assume you’ll be watching me. Fair enough. But remember: I protect V’ren interests, and I protect my human population. File your residency paperwork by the end of the day.
“I have another meeting scheduled, so if you’ll excuse me—unless something’s on fire.”
No one spoke.
“Good. Welcome to the Freehold.” nothing is needed now, go rest, settle in.”
