Yesterday’s piece is here.
Copyright J.B. Norman
“Honk,” the Penguinian manager of the Hotel Bezlotek tells Kathryn, pointing with her flipper to the broken ice machine.
“Yeah,” says an increasingly-frustrated Kathryn. “I know the machine’s broken.”
“Hrenk,” continues the manager.
“But why do I have to fix it? The job was just to deliver the cooling coil,” Kathryn continues. She holds up the coiling. “And here it is, just like I agreed to when I took the job!”
Dunstella is licking an ice cream cone as she watches the conversation unfold — ice cream sales have been up lately. It’s been an unseasonably warm winter on the northern hemisphere of Ledu, still frigid for visitors from elsewhere but uncomfortable for the moon’s native Penguinians.
“No, no,” Kathryn continues. “It’s not that I can’t fix it, it’s that no one told me I had to!”
“Quack-quack-honk. Hrenk,” the hotel manager notes.
“Of course it’s not your fault the maintenance supervisor is with his wife while she’s laying her eggs,” Kathryn says. “The issue is that I don’t work for free! I just…
Look, pay me five percent on top of the delivery fee, and I’ll fix the machine.
“Honk-hrenk-quack,” the hotel manager says, extending her flipper to seal the new deal with the closest thing a Penguinian can manage to a handshake.
“Just bring me a tool kit and I’ll get to work,” Kathryn says.
“Everything alright, Captain?” Amarantha asks.
“Yeah,” Kathryn sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Just some unexpected logistical issues.”
One of the Hotel Bezlotek’s maintenance workers soon appears with a tool kit and Kathyn sets to work installing the ice machine’s new cooling coil.
“You stupid…”
Amarantha frowns at the colourful language issuing from the bowels of the machine, for several reasons. She slowly reaches over to Dunstella, clamping her elegant hands over the girl’s ears to prevent her innocent ears from being scandalised any further.
“… son of a…”
Largely unperturbed by this development, Dunstella continues to lick her ice cream.
“…gonna kill…”
A wordless sound of sheer frustration is followed by a symphony of loud, metallic clangs as Kathryn uses her wrench to bludgeon the ice machine’s innards. This is followed by a silence that is eventually broken by the machine humming back to life.
“Yes!” Kathryn cries.
She emerges from the back of the ice machine.
“What?” she asks when she sees the way Amarantha is looking at her.
“Captain,” Amarantha groans. “You are absolutely covered in grime and grease. I don’t think I can be seen in public with you.”
“But you’re my best friend in the galaxy,” Kathryn says. “And right now I think I need to give my best friend a great, big hug.”
“No,” Amarantha says. “No, no, no.”
Kathryn approaches with her arms wide.
“Don’t you dare. Need I remind you that the Alvaraeans have been masters of sorcery for forty thousand — Gah!”
Kathryn pulls Amarantha into a tight hug.
“I hate you,” the Alvaraen princess mutters.
Dunstella tugs on the hem of her sister’s vest.
“Can I have a hug, too? I like hugs.”
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