"She and I are two unhappy ones who keep together and carry our burdens together, and in this way unhappiness is changed to joy, and the unbearable becomes bearable." ― Vincent van Gogh
Ellowyn O'Maille marched through the front doors of the Terog like she owned the place. She was tall, silver-haired and regal, the type that commands attention.
Her ebony heels clicked along the marble floor of the lobby with only a small black leather purse in her hand. And she'd brought a friend; a robot, a little over six feet in height, Its body square-shaped, with a round clear head that resembled a plasma ball, situated with two black specks for eyes.
It followed close behind her, lugging a small brown suitcase in its hands. The droid occasionally paused to observe the onlookers, coupled with 'beep' sounds. The guests were all smiling and pointing at the droid as it followed Ellowyn, who would periodically stop to direct the bot forward. There were whispers as she walked in, as this was the famed roboticist, renowned for her groundbreaking work which had earned her tremendous respect for her innovation. The strange bot clearly one of her creations.
Behind her came in another woman in green. Getting lost among the people clamoring about the lobby entrance.
"Any sign of chiama Swain?" Teora asks Tomah, keeping her green eyes pinned to the older woman approaching the front desk. Tomah shook his head as he knuckled his eyes. He'd not gotten much sleep. "No, she hasn't turned up yet."
He folded his arms as he pondered. He remembers another woman who he thought had checked out named Veronica Dell. Her room was now occupied by the mysterious Gray. She'd presumably had left a day or two earlier. Guests were not required to sign anything just to leave, they merely packed up and left. A confusing system with definite flaws. One that made it hard to keep track of everyone.
But still, he hadn't seen her actually leave. And she made it clear she'd be there a while at least. But she'd up and just vanished. Women in their line of work often disappear, so concern was certainly warranted.
Teora gawks at the bot as the older woman reaches the front desk. She nudges Tomah, who was staring off.
I don't know. It doesn't look so special to me. She spoke telepathically to her co-worker, not wanting to risk being heard. Tomah doesn't offer any response, only an uninterested shrug.
The design seems so simple. Thycenians don't believe in creating A.I. Cybernetic limbs, sure, that was different. But a full false being, it went against nature. There was going to be a robot convention nearby where humans and other species were putting their work on display, so this lady was probably one of the loons who will be there.
"Buna diwas." Teora perks up, giving the new guest a bright smile. The woman shoots her a steely look, her blue-gray eyes narrowing. Teora feels a sliver of ice trickle through her veins.
"O'Maille," the roboticist tersely says, gaze still on Teora. "And this is Richie." She nods to the droid, who beeps in response.
Kikara checks her in, leading the way to the room. The woman says nothing more as she brushes past, ascending the stairs behind Kikara. Her robotic servant follows, still clasping the suitcase, pausing on a step briefly to glance out over at the lobby and the crowd as they continue to point and laugh.
"Man, this place is great!" one man exclaims as he passes by a white-bearded older man in a green suit.
Teora and Tomah watch as Ellowyn and Kikara disappear with the bot in pursuit beyond the balcony.
"Well...she's not very friendly. Not that we aren't used to that." Teora grimaced, as she pictures the woman's beady eyes boring through her, a small shudder accompanied the feeling. That woman and that droid were both strange.
YOU ARE READING
Reverie
Mystery / Thriller"The Losers Club had driven It from the personal gaming reserve It had made. Now, it was time for It to make a new one. Just as It had to create a new physical form after Its other was destroyed by those hated ones. And It wants no more to feel. No...
