Date: June 9, 2440 Time: 12:15 PM
Calvas Win had not been expecting this summons. The message had come down like a thunderclap, and he had turned it over in his mind a hundred times since. How Lord Marmaduke had even heard of him—let alone decided to summon him personally—was beyond imagining. Had he done something wrong? Was this to be judgment? He couldn’t know, but he would face it. Better to walk into the lion’s den than cower outside.
The human vehicle—a squat, angular thing called a Jeep—growled to a halt, and Calvas stepped down with deliberate calm. He inclined his head to the human driver, who had carried him here in silence, then to the two men in plain clothes standing sentinel in the alcove. They pretended at ease, but he could see the soldier in each stance.
“I am Calvas Win, summoned to meet Lord Marmaduke,” he said, voice steady despite the knot in his chest. “I am ready for his judgment.”
“Up the stairs, Mister Win. You are expected,” Wentworth replied with a small smile, privately wondering what V’ren men would be like in bed, because this one was H-O-T hot.
The door opened before he reached for it. “Calvas, please come in,” T’mari said warmly, far more welcoming than he had braced for. She stepped aside, motioning him in with a gentle sweep of her hand.
“Officer T’mari,” he murmured, bowing his head slightly.
“We are not formal here,” came another voice from within. Matt Marmaduke entered the hall, sleeves rolled, still toweling his hands from the bathroom.
“My Lord,” Calvas said quickly, starting to drop to one knee.
“Up,” Matt cut in, firm but not unkind. “That’s fine for public ceremony, Calvas Win, but here I invited you as a man, not a courtier. I asked you here to offer you a job—not to hear how majestic my royal ass is.” He chuckled, and Calvas froze, completely thrown.
“Don’t look so worried,” Matt added, softer this time. “Are you thirsty? Hungry? I have yet to meet a V’ren who wasn’t hungry.”
“You’re terrifying him, Matthew,” T’mari chided with a small shake of her head. “Come sit. Did you enjoy the drive, or were you so certain you’d done something terrible that you thought the High Lord himself meant to punish you?” The translator caught up quickly, rendering the words smooth in Calvas’s ears.
“I was worried,” he admitted, the words edged with caution. The high and mighty had a reputation for capriciousness, and his family had once lived near enough to gentry to know how quickly fortune could sour.
“Don’t be,” Matt said, steering him toward the seating area. The space was warm, comfortable, and unmistakably arranged by T’mari’s hand.
“We were waiting to eat until Robert dropped you off,” T’mari explained, settling onto the sofa. Matt gestured to the chair opposite, still coaxing Calvas to relax into it. She slid a thin-crust slice into Matt’s hand before reaching for the stuffed-crust she favored.
“Take your pick,” Matt said, setting a cold beer on the low table before Calvas. The man hesitated, then accepted both slice and drink, posture softening as he chewed.
“I am sure you were worried about being summoned,” T’mari continued, her voice even. “Everyone else will think the same—that you’ve erred somehow. That misunderstanding benefits Matthew and his plans. K’rem T’all knows the truth and agrees you are the right choice for this assignment.”
Matt leaned forward. “In military terms, I need a Tech Weenie. She says you’re one of the best. Don’t worry—by the same reckoning, I’m just a Supply Guy. Neither of us ever gets the respect we deserve, but what we do is keep everything running.”
“This is my experience as well,” Calvas sighed, easing into the chair now, savoring both pizza and reprieve. “It is interesting to see militaries everywhere are much the same. What task do you require? I have little knowledge of human technologies, yet…”
“We have two jobs,” Matt said. “T’mari, you’re very good with signal isolation—but you say he’s better.”
Calvas sat straighter. “Field dampening. I can isolate wireless communication streams across different systems. That is what I do best.” His voice carried a touch of pride at last.
“The second job,” Matt said, “needs a comms specialist who can be trusted. While I’ve had no reason to distrust any V’ren I’ve met, T’mari tells me you keep confidence. That you don’t run your mouth.”
“If it is not my business and harms no one I care for, then it is simply not my business,” Calvas replied plainly. He realized, then, this was indeed a job interview—strange, but not unwelcome.
“I had planned to reinforce my security system further,” T’mari admitted, “but my duties keep expanding. I don’t have the time.”
“You’ve grown into your public role,” Calvas said. “Many of us are proud to see someone we respect take that face in the human media. My mate admires you as well. She follows your appearances.”
Matt blinked. “I did not know you were mated.”
“Only formally bonded in recent days, when her pregnancy was confirmed.”
“Congratulations—father and husband both,” Matt said warmly. “That changes nothing here. What does your mate do?”
“She is a botanist, like you. She would very much like to meet you and… talk shop, I believe is the phrase.”
“I would enjoy that,” Matt said with genuine interest. He glanced at T’mari. “Coordinate with Angelina and K’rem. I don’t know when we’ll find the time, but I’d like that meeting.” He rose, gesturing for Calvas to follow. “Let me show you something.”
He led them into the hidden chamber.
“As far as I know, this room is sealed from every human wireless signal, and it’s soundproof,” Matt explained, gesturing around the command space. “All hardwired connections feed in from a bunker fifty meters below. What I want is further insulation—against any non-human surveillance.”
“I am well-suited for that task,” Calvas said after a slow study of the space. “Though I must learn your technologies first.”
“Of course. And while you learn, you’ll take on the second job. Originally, I meant it for T’mari, but she has no time either. I need someone I trust to sift through surveillance footage, flag important data. Some of it will be business, some social, some from media streams.”
“How will I know what matters?”
“At first—filters. Keywords. Later, your own judgment. We’ll meet regularly while you learn. I’ll review data with you to train your eye. T’mari says you’re smart, analytical. I believe her.”
“I thank you for your faith. But know—in roughly three hundred twenty days, I will be a father. Those duties will come first.”
“Good,” Matt said simply. “If you’d told me otherwise, you’d be the wrong man for this job. A father should be a father, and a husband a husband first. As High Lord, I approve of your dedication. As Matt, the man offering you work, I offer this.”
He pushed open the final door. The room beyond stretched fifteen by fifty meters, more space than most apartments, perched above the Randy Pecker.
“I’ll provide housing here, funds to fit it as you and your mate desire, and a salary worthy of your expertise. You’ll never be far from family or work. By the time your child needs more of you, we’ll have built the system to let you step back. I don’t just want a spy. I want a chief of intelligence—someone to grow into that role. Will you accept?”
Calvas rose to his feet, eyes shining with solemnity. He bowed deeply, words carrying weight. “It is my honor to serve you, Matthew, Lord Marmaduke, High Lord of the V’ren.”
