Meow

 

1

 

 

 

I gritted my teeth and walked in the one-fifth gravity to the stepping disk and ordered it to take me home. The sudden increase in weight slugged me, and it simply fed my anger. GODDAMN HER!

 

I stormed past some people in the hallway as I walked towards my home. I heard a voice behind me: "Ken..." Paul. Go The Fuck Away.

The door slid open and I walked through, settling into the couch, still seething. Damn damn damn damn. I do not need this!

There was a knock at the door. "What?" I snarled.

"Ken?" It was Paul again.

I took a deep breath, sighed, and said "Come in Paul."

 

The door opened again, and the Centaur walked in and looked around. He stepped carefully over to the other side of the coffee table and settled onto the floor, folding his legs under him.

 

"Are you okay?"

"No, I am not okay, but thank you for asking." I looked down at my hands, which felt cold, and rubbed them together.

"What's up? Last I heard, you were up at Alpha with Miss Rampoor."

"Yeah, last you heard. And last you're gonna hear about that," I said, angrily.

"Getting on your nerves?" he said.

"Look, Paul, I know you don't like her. I know Mitzee doesn't like her, but I need her. She's the most qualified Centaur obstetrician on the Ring. She's a bitch, a pain, but I need her."

"She's not a Shardik."

"No, she's not. We've never really settled on what that means, though, but she definitely does not qualify. Look, right now I'm more than a little steamed."

"What happened?"

"We were in Alpha again, and she started complaining again."

"About?"

"Paperwork. Look, you know how much of the original Centaur design is simply notes scattered around in a couple of notebooks I have. They're carefully put away, but that's not good enough for her. Paul, when I made you, I got it right, but Carroll is... sterile. I can fix it, I know I can, but I need the help of someone who isn't a microbiologist, someone who understands the big picture. She's it. Panyssa Rampoor is the best, recommended by Riis himself, but Rings, kiddo, I did perfectly well without hypertext. She wants everything hypertexted, and I just don't have that. I work up here," I pointed to my temple, "and she doesn't understand that. She's got a complete biocybe link in her head. She could do research all day just by sitting down and thinking. I can't. I'm a hands-on person. If it isn't bubbling away in Alpha somewhere, if it isn't made up of paper and ink, it isn't mine. I can't handle that kind of abstraction. I like using keyboards and mice and joysticks." I paused, took another deep breath, and said "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rant and rave like that."

He smiled. "I haven't got my wife's common sense, Ken, but I can see two choices here. I mean, it is your project, after all. You can either get her to accept your methods, or dismiss her."

"Then who have I got?"

"There's always Brieanna."

"Riis recommended her second, but he also said it was quote a distant second unquote."

"Your only option, then, is to talk to her."

"Not an option."

He nodded. "Where is she now?"

"Dave?" I said, addressing the ceiling.

"Miss Rampoor is still on Alpha. According to Hal, she is having a comprehensive cross-index of your notes made up."

"Well, maybe that'll keep her happy," I said. But eventually, I made up my mind.

 

A few hours later, I walked back to Alpha. When I stepped into the lab, she was standing a few meters away over a desk, a headband around her temples. She was about 170cm tall, dark blue fur and large elfin ears. I like Tindals, because for once they're not based on anything classical. Miss Rampoor was a little different, because she had distinctive patches of fur without any tint to them around her eyes. They gave her a slight 'racoon' look I found it attractive. Her arms were tentacles, like all Tindals, and she deftly handled the custom keyboard with her mittens. One pad and opposable thumb. Soft and dextrous.