Ilrica fidgeted with something behind her back as she stood in the hallway before Gerald's dorm room. Everything was a frozen gray, except for her eyes, which glowed a bright green.
While it had taken the rest of them only a half hour to return to the academy, Gerald had been gone for nearly a week, after Ms. Stubbs had insisted on putting him on a separate flight which had experienced a spectacular breakdown in hyperspace that required the deployment of the regional guard, who had likewise broken down.
Now he was back, and she could feel her hearts beating in her chest just looking at him.
She looked away sadly. "What are you doing here?" she asked herself. "This is stupid. You don't need this right now, you are so close to the end, don't dung it all up by taking unnecessary risks."
She looked over at her blushing reflection in a wall mirror and her face pinched. She had always hated the way she looked. Her snout was too short, her fangs blunt, her claws dull, her fur thin. She hated how short she was, how straight she stood.
She looked down at Gerald as he lay there frozen in mid snore. Her emerald eyes became soft and feminine. Somehow, when she looked at him, none of that seemed to matter as much. Just being so close to him made her feel a little light-headed.
"Ugh! I am such an idiot," she said, slapping herself on the cheeks. "You've got to get it together, girl. You're acting like a borgaunt."
* * *
Gerald sat up and looked around at the empty hallway, his hair disheveled from a long flight. Cadbury clucked softly as she lay curled up at his feet. There was a sugary scent in the air. It kind of reminded him of baking cinnamon rolls. And next to him, on the ground, was another dead animal.
"Oh great, so we're back to this again."
He leaned back and stretched against his door, when it slid open behind him. It caught him so offguard that he fell back into the entryway, looking upside down at his opulent dwelling. A well-dressed man stood at the kitchenette, preparing breakfast.
"Good morning, Master Dyson," the man whistled through his enormous boomerang-like nose.
Gerald rolled over and looked around. "Am I on the wrong floor?"
"Of course not, Master Dyson" the man said, setting out breakfast. "Madam Ssykes had your door replaced. You will find this one has no moving parts and no crystronics. Even if it breaks, you will still be able to open it."
Gerald stood up and looked around. The hardwood floor paneling was accented by a strip of ore along the moldings that gave off a natural pleasant amber glow. The bed looked exquisitely soft, with a headboard of carved stone displaying the Ssykes family crest. On the desk sat a brand new linking device to replace the one Zurra had thrown away.
"Is something wrong sir?" the man asked, standing at the ready.
"No, it's just that... I've never been in here before. It's quite nice."
"Yes, as a regional manager with Ssykes industries you have certain privileges and responsibilities," he explained as he motioned for Gerald to take a seat. My name is Enri Altasbor, I will be your personal attendant."
Gerald sat down before the extravagant breakfast that had been prepared. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, wondering if this was all some lucid delusion brought on by jet-lag. There were flawlessly folded omelets, korranian yogurt, kintennian sausages, as well as an assortment of foul-tasting vegetables, which Gerald appreciated.
"Altasbor..." Gerald said aloud as he filled a bowl with some corn and set it down for Cadbury. "Wait, I remember you. You were our waiter back at O... Osiris Frankfurter..."
"O'Sterie Fran'Kasana," Enri corrected. "I am now contracted to the Ssykes family and have been assigned to you."
He placed a small device in Gerald's hand. "I have been informed that you cannot link with Central. If you need anything, just press this rune and I will attend to you."
Gerald wasn't sure what to say. "But didn't you like being a waiter?"
Enri sniffed through his enormous nose, giving off a little whistle. "Being a waiter was completely agreeable to me."
"Well, then, why did you leave?" Gerald asked, placing some steamed turnips on his plate.
"I can hardly wait tables when there are no tables to wait, sir."
"What do you mean?" Gerald asked, taking a pungent bite.
"The restaurant burned down."
Gerald stared at him. "Did it really?"
"Yes, the very night you visited. I'm surprised you were unaware. It was all over the news networks."
Gerald tapped the back of his neck.
"Ah yes. Of course."
As Gerald took another bite, a metal cylinder was placed on his shoulder. There was a pneumatic hiss and he felt a needle pierce his skin.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Vitamin and hormone shot, sir."
"Vitamins?"
"Yes, your... unusual dietary intake leaves you deficient in many areas. I have had the Ssykes family physician create this supplement."
"Oh, okay," he said, rubbing his shoulder. "But what about the hormones?"
Enri cracked an eye open. "Apparently the Duchess believes your libido to be unnaturally low for a man. She requested that it be... amplified."
"Wait, WHAT?"
Before he could inquire further, there was a knock at the door.
"Hello, Mr. Dyson," the portly orange woman greeted as Enri slid the door open.
"Hey, it's Doctor Ssandr," Gerald said, shaking her hand when she offered it. "She's a specialist in teaching kids with mental disorders. She comes down to the orphanage every now and then."
"I know," Enri sniffed.
"What can I do for you?" Gerald asked warmly.
"I've been contracted by the Ssykes family to be your personal tutor," she explained.
Gerald crinkled his nose. "But... I don't have a mental disorder."
"Actually you do. Since you are unable to link with Central, you qualify under Alliance law as being functionally retarded."
"That's not a very diplomatic way to say it."
"As a specialist in teaching children with learning disabilities, I am one of the few people qualified to instruct someone with such a... disadvantage."
"That was a little better."
Doctor Ssandr forced her way into the room and began rummaging through her purse. "Now, I've been going over your test scores, and I can see some definite room for improvement. For example, the first seven tests you took since your arrival you received a zero because you failed to even put your name on the form properly."
"When I got here I didn't know standard. You can't expect me to..."
Her face became cross. She whipped out a glowing stick and touched it to his hand. There was a spark and he yelped in surprise.
"Ow! What was that for?" he asked, rubbing his injured hand.
Cadbury squawked and ran away, spilling her bowl of corn.
Doctor Ssandr smiled sweetly. "Negative reinforcement. I'm a big proponent. Now take your seat."
She zapped him again and he fell backwards into a desk that grew up out of the floor around him. Straps grew around his ankles and wrists, holding him in place.
"Now," she said in a candied tone. "We will begin with substatitive test preparation, personal quiz preparation, examsmanship, study habits, and then if you are really nice, we'll relax with some nice quiet legal reasoning."
She clapped her hands in excitement. "Oh, this is going to be so diverting!"
Gerald grinned in horror.
* * *
Two hours later, the door to his room chimed, and Enri slid it open, bowing slightly. Trahzi furrowed her brow and looked up at the name-plate.
"Have we come to the wrong floor?" She looked down. "We saw the dead animal and just assumed that..."
"No, this is the residence of Master Dyson. How may I help you?"
"We have come to walk Gerald to class."
Enri raised an eyebrow. "We?"
"Yes."
"But I only see one of you."
"What you see is a single body, but our consciousness spans across four-hundred fifty thousand, eight-hundred and eleven individual bodies."
He sniffed. "Very good, ma'am, however I'm afraid Master Dyson is indisposed at the moment."
Trahzi peeked over his shoulder. Gerald was strapped to a chair, black and blue, smoking slightly, his clothes covered in burn marks. Dozens of windows in standard rotated around him.
"Come on, now," Doctor Ssandr encouraged. "If I can teach a bulniese python to sing the galactic anthem, I can certainly get a decent test score out of you. Let's start again from the beginning."
She gave him a fresh prod with her shock stick. He barely twitched. Cadbury landed on his head and pecked at his hair.
"We would be happy to reschedule you for twelve hundred fifty hours local time if that would please you," Enri offered.
Trahzi crinkled her nose. "We hate waiting."