Onotharians.”
Roshan heard the ironic whisper behind her and at first let it go. However, the Commercial Lobby needed to work as a unit and had no room for internal ridicule or disdain.
“Actually,” Roshan stated mildly, in a low tone, but with underlying authority, “Cimilia O’Tarra is not only one of the most promising industrial leaders of our time, but she’s run most of the business for the last two years. Perhaps you weren’t aware of that?”
Her sarcastic words had the desired effect when the two men slammed their jaws shut and looked as if they’d just tasted something sour.
“We should count ourselves happy that the Commercial Lobby is getting such a resourceful person,” Roshan added, unable to resist twisting the knife. A few of the older patriarchs still frowned upon female leaders, but they were a dying breed. If they knew what my night job is, they’d faint . Roshan bit down on the inside of her cheek, her usual method of preventing further scathing comments, and turned forward again.
It was certainly hard to focus on her day job. Just this morning, she’d received a coded message from her space team that Kellen O’Dal had acknowledged her message and would respond within twelve hours. However, two transports were due to ship prisoners to the Kovos asteroid, which meant they had rapidly processed the resistance fighters at the assemblage camps such as Vaksses.
Roshan knew Andreia did what she could to delay such a move. Roshan was in contact with her twice a day, using the Class 1 transmitter, which she now kept in a hidden pocket in her silver-silk tank top. A woven net of sensor-deflecting material kept it invisible to most scanners and sensors.
The meeting finally ended, and after a brief lunch, Roshan excused herself and left to return to her office. Her chauffeur waited in her expensive hovercraft. With a familiar tinge of embarrassment, Roshan sank down in the plush backseat. She closed her eyes for a moment and thought of how this vehicle would seem from a poor Gantharian farmer’s point of view.
Suddenly a faint vibration hummed against her skin through the tank top, and Roshan’s eyes snapped open. Reaching inside her shirt, she tapped the transmitter, and at the same time, she pressed a sensor, making sure the wall between her and the driver was closed.
She engaged her transmitter and earpiece by voice recognition. “Paladin.”
“Boyoda.”
A five-second-long vibration showed the transmitter accepted their voice patterns. Andreia had suggested they take this extra precaution, since they needed to identify each other unequivocally.
“I hope everything’s okay,” Andreia said, her voice cheerful and clear.
“Yes. I’m still waiting to hear something from Kellen. I’m cautiously optimistic.”
“Good. I have faith in your powers of persuasion.”
Roshan shook her head. Was that a joke? “Completely unfounded, but thanks just the same.”
“I’m not calling to nag you, though,” Andreia continued, now speaking quickly and slightly out of breath. Roshan could hear from the quick clattering noise of high heels against marble in the background that she was on the move. “Just hear me out, okay?”
“Very well.”
“I need a date for tonight.”
What? Roshan couldn’t possibly respond coherently.
“Yes. Well.” Andreia continued and cleared her voice. “It’s an important function, a farewell celebration at the palace for Chairman M’Ocresta.”
“And?”
“And, since we’re Onotharian-friendly in the public eye, we could attend major events like tonight together and make people think we’re friends.” Roshan heard a deep intake of breath. “What do you think?”
It was logical. In fact, Roshan wondered why she hadn’t thought of it after she’d found out who Boyoda was. Self-preservation. How can I spend time with her just for show? What if I forget to act and instead re act? “I think it’s a good idea,” Roshan heard herself say.
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