(GQ #13) Adventures in Spacepunk

7. The Less Said, the Better

The archive keeper had yet to arrive. In the meantime, Lorenzo studied the documents on Ranger Hook for answers. Could she have been the same woman who asked him for directions? He tried to compare her to the photo on his tablet, but all he remembered were the differences between them.

In his heart, he hoped it wasn't her. To let a target slip by after walking up to him? What an inexcusable display, and right in front of his subordinate, too. It's even worse than partaking in a donut in front of her. That was out of his control, and at least he trusted Wattson had enough sense and discipline to avoid succumbing to their diabolical deliciousness.

He couldn't say the same of Kelly and the child's ability to apprehend Hook. Nonetheless, the fate of the mission might have fallen into their hands.

"...And it's so hard to find good help these days." Across the open area where Lorenzo stood, at the far end of a table, two women stood, having a conversation. One spoke up louder than appropriate for a library setting.

"Oh, I completely understand. I've been absolutely devastated since my nanny left. The boys are old enough to take care of themselves, but it's not just about that. She was my girl, my BFF. That's not something I can just replace, you know?" The longer-haired woman sighed dramatically. "We're supposed to start on Seamstress on the Run next week?"

"Yep, I hear it's a real rollercoaster. I can't wait! See you then?"

"You know it~" She shimmied.

Both left. Neither of them looked anything like Hook, so Lorenzo didn't know why he bothered paying attention. He directed his focus to Ranger Wattson, who stood on the other side of the archive door, hidden from view of the seating area by shelves lining its perimeter. She read a book to pass time. He wondered if he should do the same.

The shelf to his back held a selection of history books. His eyes tried their best to search for one related to the Interstellar Forces without his reading glasses. Technically, he could switch over to him, that was, if he wanted to blow his disguise. No, he'd wait until getting into the archives to do that.

Pale fingertips fell onto a book spine in his eyeline. They weren't Wattson's. Wattson still read her book on the other side.

"Oh, excuse me." A middle-aged woman stared up at him, the long-haired one from earlier. "I'm just looking for something." She blinked a few times. "You wouldn't have happened to see a book called Seamstress on the Run, have you?"

"No, ma'am. I haven't seen that title."

"Phooey." she pouted, continuing to trail her fingers along books. "I don't think I've seen you around before. You look memorable."

Lorenzo pondered over how or if he should respond. "These clothes are memorable, I suppose."

She giggled. Was what he said funny? He glanced over at Wattson for some kind of confirmation, but she must've been completely engrossed in her book. Her face was fully buried in it.

"The clothes are definitely part of it," the woman brushed at her bangs, "but you have a striking look about you in general. Oh, you know what you remind me of? Those living statues at the gym up that way." She pointed north. "I've taken a job there a few times. All I had to do was stand around and pose. You should go for it if you haven't."

Stand around and pose while nearly naked, if Lorenzo remembered correctly. He'd rather not. However, he did know for a fact that the gym models were chosen for their admirable physiques, so he took that as a compliment even if something about it made his muscles tense. "No, thank you."