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“I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you came back to Earth to see if you can help him.” She caressed the window with a forefinger, wishing it was his skin she touched. She hadn’t experienced regrets in a long time, but now her mind was flooded with them. How stupid was it she avoided this man simply because she feared getting hurt? Wouldn’t a few short decades of happiness with him be worth it?
What was her life now but a series of meaningless meetings with people who only wanted some part of her professionally? What kind of personal life was that? This was especially true after Jordyn had grown up and left to live her own life. The only reprieve from loneliness was when Amata wrote.
Even working on the movie sets based on her stories didn’t help. She could be in a room surrounded by people, but she might as well be in a sea of holographic images. None of them connected with her or touched her on an emotional level.
But this man, this human man, saw her with his intelligent, blue-gray eyes. When she’d first met him at the doorstep of her home in Carson City, the world shifted. She should’ve been astute enough to recognize the profound implications when it happened. Too bad she’d kept her heart closed, not allowing room for another devastating loss like when her husband Gannon died. The mere thought of sharing her life with someone new petrified her. Now, as Claude’s hold on life grew weaker, her second chance at happiness slowly slipped away with him.
Inanna put on a pale-blue lab coat over the simple slacks and blouse she wore. She’d pulled her long, reddish-blonde hair into a ponytail. With her youthful, fresh appearance, one wouldn’t know she was the sovereign of over a billion people.
“Try not to worry.” Inanna placed her handheld on a counter and came over to Amata, gripping her forearms. “It’ll take me some time to conduct a thorough examination of him. Why don’t you lie down on the couch over there and get some rest?” She gave a brief nod to the other side of the room and let go. “You look exhausted.” She put her hands into her wide coat pockets.
Amata’s shoulders slumped. The weight of holding them up was too much to bear. The excitement over the last few hours made her sluggish. Her eyes itched and burned. “You’re probably right,” she admitted and glanced at Claude’s pod before swinging her attention back to Inanna. “Will you wake me up the minute you know anything?”
“Of course I will.” Her smile was a promise. “Now, go. I’ve got work to do.”
The sound of low voices woke Amata up. She swore she just closed her eyes, but the dawn light pouring through the wide windows told her it was early morning. Pushing off the single blanket she’d covered herself with on the plush sectional couch, she pulled her hair out of her eyes and went to the side of the room where Inanna was in a quiet conversation with her husband, Adapa. She didn’t like the intense expressions on their faces.
“What’s happened?” She demanded as she approached them. “What did you find out?”
Inanna’s bright-turquoise gaze was steady when their eyes met. “Come, let’s go sit over there.” With an elegant hand, she gestured to a small round table with four seats. “Let me tell you what I think is our best option.”
Adapa put a hand at the small of Inanna’s back as they went to the table and sat. “I’ll have a domestic droid bring us in something to eat.” He gave a narrow mock-glare at his wife. “And you’ll eat something. Yes?”
Amata couldn’t help the small grin tugging at her lips. The love Prince Consort Adapa had for his wife was tangible, like a familiar embrace of warmth and rightness. But next to that swell of admiration, a hard squeeze of dread made her queasy. She doubted she’d keep anything down.
“I’d love some herbal tea,” she told him. Maybe that would soothe her dry throat.
Adapa nodded, and with expert moves, tapped on a pad.
Interlacing her fingers in a hard grip on the tabletop, Amata leaned forward and looked the other woman in the eye. “Will he live?” At Inanna’s unemotional stare, tears welled up. “He’s going to die?”
Inanna reached over and covered her clasped hands. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I did the best I could to fix the nick the bullet caused at the edge of his heart, but the damage is too extensive. Even with a replacement, it’s doubtful he’d survive the surgery. I ran exhaustive tests to see if there was a way around it, but every outcome came back confirming his physiology would reject such a procedure.”
Amata sat back. Eyes downcast, her she flopped her hands onto her lap. So, this was it.
Inanna cleared her throat. “But, ah, I have an idea.”
The quiet whisper of a domestic droid sounded behind her.
The old-fashioned model bore a semi-humanoid appearance, with the upper body encased in Grade-A orange durable plastic. Its round head sported two lights resembling eyes of the same color. Slim shoulders flowed into forearms branching out at the elbows. Instead of hands, the ending digits were a variety of useful instruments. Sometimes it sported five fingers and a thumb. Sometimes it needed pinchers. This model would also have blunt instruments, like a hammer or screwdriver. The bottom half of the drone tapered to a flat pedestal and hovered in the air. Although it could glide on the ground, it usually floated to avoid obstacles.
On one of the droid’s fingerless hands was a tray with three domed food plates. On another arm, it balanced a tray with a steaming pot of tea and two cups. A third hand held a famous brown bottle of ale, which the droid put in front of Adapa.
With quick efficiency, it placed the food trays on the table before putting tea cups in front of Amata and Inanna. It then set the teapot in front of Inanna. It took the plate coverings off the food, putting them on a now-empty platter resting on its free hand. With silent efficiency, it set the plates full of food in front of them. The luscious scent of baked goods, as well as creamy egg dishes, perfumed the air.
Despite Amata’s scrambling emotions, her mouth watered.
“Shall I pour?” The droid’s metallic voice was sexless and void of personality.
“No, thank you, DD-6. We’ll call you if you’re needed again.” Inanna placed a linen napkin on her lap. She grabbed the colorful ceramic teapot that was covered in scenes from ancient Babylon. With practiced ease, she poured the steaming liquid into the two cups.
“Very good, mistress.” The droid spun its torso and left in a whispering whirl.
Amata’s nerves were brittle. She didn’t want any damn tea! Was the woman procrastinating for some reason? Biting the inside of her cheek, she held back from shouting at the queen. She gripped her hands so tight her knuckles whitened. She dropped them to her lap under the table where the monarchs couldn’t see them.
Adapa took a hefty bite of a toasted bagel topped with a thick blanket of cream cheese. His gaze darted between her and Inanna. Wiping his lips, he gripped his ale and sat back. “My dove, I think you’d better tell Amata your idea.” He took a healthy swig from the bottle.
Inanna’s attention was on the delicate action of slicing the fluffy omelet in front of her into small sections. Adapa’s words prompted her to glance up, eyes wide as she responded to her husband. “Oh my, yes, dear. You’re right.” The queen turned to Amata, her eyes glowing. “I believe my concept is worth exploring. I can’t wait to explain it to you.”
