Activity

Marlowe Reynolds was in complete control. She stood on a rooftop overlooking the assembly hall, taking note of each ambassador who walked in and out of the large, triangular gateway. Her list would be valuable. The Commodore wanted to know who was in the building at all times—who was present for votes and who skipped them. Who paid homage to the Empress and who did not. Her fellow Ensigns were off running minor errands, but Marlowe had worked hard to become the Commodore’s personal aid.

“I am the one you need. No one else is so dedicated to the cause as I am, Commodore,” she had told him. He, pleased by her diligence, had given her the assignment.

“Don’t be jealous,” she told the other Ensigns when they heard about her promotion. “You’ll gain enough merits someday, if you follow the rules and obey the Commodore.” They laughed at her, treating her with the same snobbishness that she did them.

“You won’t be laughing for long,” she threatened when they had their backs turned. While she filed a fake account to the Commodore to cover up her unsanctioned activities, she reported two Ensigns for falsifying information and lying to the leadership that they had been at their posts on the night that a thief broke into the embassy. The ultimate hypocrisy.

“There, that should stabilize your financial situation until you can get back on your feet. Is there anything else you need?” she had asked the refugees who sometimes came to the embassy for aid. They thanked her profusely, and she replied with a smile that was only another one of her masks.

A beep came from Marlowe’s communicator watch. She tapped its screen, opening a holographic display of a name: Lyddie. Marlowe smiled and answered the call. “What is it, squirt?” she asked playfully.

“When are you coming home, Marlowe? I like your cooking much better than Dad’s.” The little girl’s voice came clearly through the communicator.

“I’m working hard for the good of the colony, Lyddie. Try to be patient with Dad. He’s trying his best.”

“He wants you to call him.”

Marlowe scowled, but continued talking in the same sweet tone. “I’ll call him once I’m off duty, okay?”

“Okay. I miss you, Marlowe.”

“I miss you too, squirt.” The communicator crackled with static. Marlowe stared at it. Had a solar flare disturbed the link? The world suddenly tilted as she lost all sense of time and space. When she opened her eyes, she stood in an ancient structure made of stone with tall, narrow windows along the rough walls. A map table was straight before her, displaying a map of her colony and the surrounding territory. Behind her was an old green door, which was locked when Marlowe tested it.

She turned back to face the map table. In the shadows beyond it was a row of doors, each a different color. Marlowe had no liking for any particular color, but she did have preference for certain numbers. She counted the doors, squinting when the numbers came out different each time. She couldn’t have made a mistake.

“Just pick a random one,” she said, envisioning herself speaking to Lyddie when she wanted advice about which hairband to wear. “I choose…” Marlowe’s eyes landed on a pine-green door of a paler color than the one behind her. It was halfway ajar. Someone else was here.

“An ally might be helpful,” she reasoned. “An enemy might sneak up on me when my back is turned. Better I find him first and have the advantage.” She crossed to the door and eased it open.

 

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@anne_the_noob14 😀