“Back again!” I say to the gathered staff in our new Civics meeting room. “I’d like to welcome Fierra Juancarlo and Hector Constantine to our staff. Fierra is our new Lead Personnel Councilor, and Hector is a recent addition to Welfare Management, including recreation, social programs, and public welfare. Adding this position has the added benefit of not needing my weigh-in for an average voting session in case of a tie. Folks, anything to say?”
Fierra stands “I am a number cruncher and a box sorter. Any personal part of personnel, should be directed to Mr. Constantine.”
Hector stands with too much enthusiasm, “I like people, fun, and spending money on both of those things! You want to organize an event? I’m your man. You need to organize some therapy for a team that saw some traumatizing action? That’s me too. Any way I can help with the human experience, I’m your guy.”
Not gonna lie, Hector’s pitch is solid—hence the new position. I even double-checked for mind-altering persuasion.
“I am very glad to have someone in charge of manning. Training was . . . challenging to deal with since the last meeting.” Marcus states, “However, I need to put the word out to the trainees for security forces, and I need line items and security changes for defense installations.”
I raise a hand, “I hear you Marcus, but in the interest of brevity, who needs access and settlement changes?” Everyone raises their hands. “Yikes, and noted. Send me notes with the meeting and I will address them.” I hate administration, but there’s no way to get around it.
Jaime grabs the hand of her mouthpiece, “Lets also curb all ‘we need department funds’ issues as well. This is known. I however, need better infrastructure and a long range relay that is not Exchange based, as much of North America is communicating on old E-M infrastructure.”
“Yeah, that’s going to take some engineering. How much of intel and security comms are old E-M waves?”
“70%” Jaime’s aide says. “20%” Marcus adds.
“Oof, alright. Flagging that as a priority for planning. That’s good stuff, let’s continue on infrastructure wants.”
Fierra flicks her hand and speaks, “We’re not at the point where people can’t move to nicer housing if they want. But we’re close. We need more free housing, and Hospitality services could use a budget increase for more personnel.”
I nod at the statements. “Big issues like new buildings are the kinds of things that I want to see here. More people because of those increases, or more security because of expansions and building requests can be line items in a request packet outside of group meetings I feel.”
The Lead Councilors show that they understand.
“It should be noted, then, that we have what look like gangs from California scouting us.” Jaime says. Marcus nods.
“Do we have enough people for patrols out to the football stadium?” I ask.
“We could send reclamation crews that far, but otherwise no. And we do not have enough armed, trained personnel for that kind of patrol.” I swear, knowing that expansion and those opposed to it can often outpace preparation.
“Alright, since this is the first meeting, I’m taking all asks. But next meeting, aka, next month, we need proposals and ‘new business’ packets from each of you. For obvious reasons, Urgent responses first, Old Business, then new business, then lunchtime cross coordination. I’m putting this to the first vote of our council: I propose our meetings occupy a 10am to close slot on first Friday of each month.”
“Is that intended to be the end of the work week when the meeting is finished?” Russel asks. I nod.
“I propose noon to close on Mondays, blocking out a four-hour period for our first day back to work for that first Monday of the month.” My new Welfare Councilor asks.
Jaime raises her hand, “I second the Monday. We should not rush this meeting to end our week. It should also be no surprise that everyone in this room will likely be working well past four pm on most days, leaving us private collection time afterward.”
“Alright, as the Monday proposal was first to be seconded, put it to hands for it.” I see five hands raise. “With me acting as Assistant Director, the vote carries 5-2. Our next meeting will be three weeks from now, and based monthly thereafter.”
“Do we need to vote on a provided lunch?” Russel asks. I laugh.
“There is a kiosk in the break floor of this building. If you want an attendant and more than just rations, then funds and people would need to be appropriated. From the looks I am getting, I would say that, no, it would not be an abuse if you had a person to manage refreshments and other accommodations for this meeting. I will remind that when I find an A-D for the Camp, I will no longer be a voting member unless a tie occurs. I’ll propose you need at least 5 members to call a vote, but other than that, it’s mostly up to you how you want to use the funds and people allocated.”
They go back and forth on the minimum people required for a vote, but a five-person quorum is cemented in the minutes. Silence and side conversations occur as I step back and enjoy coffee and a snack, but soon, the meeting resumes as my department leads gain some confidence. I smile that these people—that largely chose themselves—are quickly stepping into their roles, and that the mousy logistics man can hold his own.
They spend the next two hours debating on funding distribution and when public welfare programs become a priority. In the end, it concludes as a very successful meeting and I feel secure in the leaders that are now responsible for my Camp.
***
Interviewing personal assistants in a post-Warram Vegas attracts many people trying to sleep with the boss for a literal leg-up. Many, many men were told to turn around, several women were told to put their clothes back on, and a scant few were told to continue their presentation while I offered them a cup of coffee for passing my first test. Five passed my checklists, but I only have room for three. So I invite them all in for a final meeting.
“So, I have three people in my office, and unbeknownst to you, I have three jobs to hire for. No offense, Charles, but you’re not getting my personal assistant job, but office manager or secretary for the Deputy Sheriff’s office is available?”
“Well, hell, Office manager sounds like my jam. I’m good with either option at your pay scale though.” Charles is a surfer in a suit as best as I can describe.
“Ladies. Both of your applications and interviews were great and I could see either of you in either position. Discuss if you will.” They turn to each other and speak lower than I can hear.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Director. How certain are you that your assistant will be working at least ten hours a day, six days a week?”
“Quite certain.”
They converse a bit more. “The two positions seem to have similar compensation. Is there a difference beside travel compensation?”
“My assistant will have a housing allowance. Apartment accommodation in my suite, or half-priced accommodation in lodging of your choosing.”
They chat between themselves again and then ask, “Do either of us have a chance of being office manager over Charles?”
I shake my head, “He is by far the most qualified, but his vibe is not personal assistant.”
They chat some more and then, honest to Empress, Rock-Paper-Scissors the result. I smirk that a woman named Patience Pellor was the winner. Chance Griffin is now my municipal secretary apparently.
“Chance and Charles, there are apartments in this building, but each apartment floor shares the floor with a section that belongs to the Deputy Sheriff’s office. Should you want them. If not, I can always repurpose them or have them as night quarters for security personnel.”
“Hey!” Patience protests. Heh, no patience it seems. “Miss Pellor, if you want other accommodations after seeing my suite, then by all means, chose another.”
“Is your suite that cool?”
“Garden terrace, hot tub, private Exchange Kiosk.” I say with a smirk.
“I rescind my previous objection.” She says, packing up her things and standing next to me.
I assure them all that as soon as they sign their NDAs and employment contracts that they’ll get paid. Patience, oddly, signs first.
As we walk back to the Hospital building I decide to ask a few questions.
“Your name is not your personality eh?”
She snorts. “Not even a little. I am very good at multitasking. This isn’t a sex job is it?”
I snarl at her before I can reign it in. “No. I . . . I would never expect that, nor do I want that in an assistant. I have a spare room and a very nice suite. I like having people around, but not just anyone.”
“Oh! That I can do. I can imagine the late connectivity is also easier if I’m there as well.” I nod. “Can I bring people over?”
“Partners, sure. Casuals and rando friends, no chance. I still like my privacy.”
“Hmm. Can I use other resident facilities with friends? Such as the meeting and entertainment rooms?”
“Of course. I just, buh, it’s hard to explain until you see it.”
Patience has nothing to say through the mile walk from the Port of Entry to Hospital HQ until we hop into the suite private elevator.
“It really does feel like I’m an escort right now. And funny enough, I’m not offended. How does that work?”
I chuckle, “My girlfriend tells me that I have an aura and have a ‘charming’ affect on people.”
She studies me for a moment, “Like, top or bottom? I get odd vibes from you.”
More laughing from me, “Depends on what mood my girl is in. She’s a Dragon shapeshifter. She has an Elf form and sometimes she feels like a dragon, sometimes she doesn’t.”
She looks horrified, “Do you . . .”
“No, and extra no. My dragon is pretty, but I’m not attracted to that side of her in that way. Are these necessary questions?”
“I’m agreeing to move in with a powerful woman I’ve never met before.” She states with a flat tone.
“Fair point.” I say as the elevator doors open.
Her tight-lipped expression holds until she sees the garden and the subsequent view.
She dropped her purse and stared for a moment. “Fuck. I guess I live here now.”
I feel that is the right sentiment and chuckle as I ease her into the bench seat by the lavender.
“No hurry Patience, spend as much time here as you want, but I’ll be at the table working and snacking.” She nods as she looks around and up and more around. I can’t help but laugh as I walk out.
I order a juice and a raptor club salad from Summer Farms and review my organizational menus before sending a message to my girlfriend.
/Hey Zia. I just hired a Personal Assistant, who opted to stay in my spare room. Just an FYI in case you want to violence the strange woman in my suite. Love you! Hope your hunt is going well./
I immediately get a video chat request from Zia.
“Kimber Novarro,” She says with heavy breaths while dodging something, the camera focused tightly on her face, “what would possess you to invite a woman to live in our home?”
“Uh, I need an assistant that is willing to work long hours and I want someone around to keep me from feeling crushingly alone?”
My girl huffs before she grunts and sneers before blood shoots across her face and the camera angle. “I suppose I can accept that, much as I dislike it. When’s your next visit out here? I really need to see you now.”
“Uh, next is several months away, hon, but if you need to like, claim ‘us’ or whatever, I already know?”
“What do you mean you know? Yeah, we’re together,” she starts getting nervous and pushing her blood soaked bangs behind her ears. “What else would that mean?”
“Zizi, you’ve called me your mate on multiple occasions. Unless you mean that as the Earther Australian way instead of the Dragon way.”
I watch her blush before putting her hands in front of her face in embarrassment. Then a large paw bats her hard enough that the call disconnects. Crap, I thought with the blood she had killed the thing.
\I’m alive. Don’t know what you’re talking about. Love you, bye.\
Why would my little pinkie be hiding our supposed matedness from me? Calling mom time. To my great surprise, the Empress of Humanity picks up immediately.
“Not a great time, but you rarely call. Hit me.” I see Penny working at a bench with a mess of tools and parts, covered in soot and ink.
“Zia is trying to avoid that she’s called me ‘mate’ on multiple occasions. Am I missing something?”
She chuckles while focusing intently on a part and her quill. “Maybe this exact conversation. She used mate specifically, huh?”
“Yeah, and from what I understand with what you and she have said about dragons, we’re basically married already?”
“Okay, the confusion makes more sense,” she says, then licks her quill before dabbing it into her ink pot again. “It’s a distinction not held with the fey or fair folk, or humans for that matter, but with Elves and Dragons a life companion or a bonded mate are different than their equivalent of weddings. Before you say ‘no big deal’ dragons haven’t existed in the memory of humans, and the Elves and the Fey have a kind of magic not governed by the system.”
“Regardless, Penny, I’m going to agree.”
“That’s part of the problem, Kimber. Zia knows that you’re devoted and that you feel sorry for any life commitment she makes because you’re Human. Because we are both Ordinal, I can tell you this, but you won’t be human for very long. I’d bet a million credits that your race changes at tier 2 because your talents are simply too strong not to warp you if you get much stronger.”
“Why does that matter though, we’re still us and my feelings for her are immortal.”
She snorts and starts laughing at me. “While nineteen is super old and all, I’m not going to bare all just because you are super serious, girl. That, and Zia would be mad at me and not your silly ass if I do tell you.”
“Ugh! What good is having the ruler of humanity as my future mother-in-law if I can’t get the tea on direct delivery!?”
“Oh yeah? Well your plantation full of adult trees is ready, asshole. Now make me some fucking drugs!”
“Penny, what? Wait, I . . .”
“You must sign for land in person with a blood sample. Good luck, bitch!”
Fuuuuuuuuuuck. I just had to be an ass. Always assume that Penny has a way to make you hurt if you’re a dick. On the plus side, I can see Zia. On the minus, I have to explain that Patience needs to wear a HAB suit for a week.
“Who were you talking to?” Patience asks and I fall out of my chair while I try to look and think at the same time.
“My girl’s mom.”
“That knows that there’s a plantation waiting for you?”
“She has important friends. So how do you feel about a trip to Astoria?” I ask from the ground.
“I’ve always wanted to go, but I don’t have the aether training. The portal’s not opening for two weeks though, so I have time.”
“Eh, hehe. That portal will be our ride back, you have a few days.” I pick myself up and start walking toward my room.
“Very funny, Miss Novarro. Pranking the new girl is hilarious.” I stop at my door and look back at her with an emotionless stare. “Shit, was today the wrong day to sign on?”
“Not really,” I reply, “But it was certainly the wrong day to antagonize the owner of Merc Arms. Sorry, Patience.”
