Chapter Text
The door parts open with a slight hiss, followed by laid back footsteps and a confident voice ringing behind the Erudition emanator's back. “There she is, our most adored Genius Society member!”
Herta barely takes her eyes off of her work, much less turn to look at the blond figure. “You arranged an appointment because you want something. Spit it out. I'm busy.”
“As expected from a genius,” is that a trace of sarcasm she hears? “I'll get to the point, then. I came with a proposal.”
Herta's hand takes a break from expertly flying across the hologram pads to wave dismissively. “If it's not about attracting an Aeon or funding the Simulated Universe, save it.”
“Close, but not quite. Have you ever considered the Space Station having a satellite?”
Herta finally turns to the source of the voice, her look of incredulity rivaling his conspirative smile and upright stature save the hand hidden behind his back. “Why in Nous’ name would I want that?”
“It's bound to happen, don't you think? I hear you're running low on space to store curios — the IPC wouldn't want that.”
What is this flamboyant peacock talking about? Herta crosses her arms, looking a tiny bit menacing and very much petulant. “You heard wrong, you're not even here on a mission from the IPC, and I can always find more space.”
“Privately? My, what would the IPC say about that? You're bound to need a satellite sooner or later, Madam Herta.”
“So the IPC can control more of my curios? As if. Why are you trying to sell this so hard?”
The IPC envoy doesn't flinch, nor does he answer the question. “So, that's a no on the satellite. How about a wing for sale?”
“You lot want to buy back only a part of the investment you made yourself? You're as strange of a bunch as the Genius Society.”
“A floor for rent?”
“No.”
“A room to lease.”
Herta scoffs. “Unless you're a researcher, which you're not, no.”
“A parking space for the craft I have yet to buy.”
Herta considers the question. “Well, I guess you are from the IPC, which makes you a key investor to the Station...”
The candy-eyed envoy puts his hands together, pleased. “Wonderful!”
“...so as long as you have a document stating you're staying here on business for the company, sure.”
The envoy nearly lets frustration break his facade. “My goodness.”
“Indeed,” she says off-handedly as she checks her phone, ringing with a new message from a contact named ‘Himeko Astral Express.’ “Speaking of, that Nameless boy you're trying to see is arriving soon — he's staying in one of the Station's rooms for a bit.”
Caught off guard, Aventurine lets slip a surprised expression — he immediately puts on his usual smile before Herta looks up from her phone. “Ah. Why, he's allowed a room to stay at the Station and I'm not?”
Herta looks at him with a flat expression. “He's a major researcher in the Simulated Universe project.”
It can't be her imagination that his smile widens just an inch. “Is that so?”
Herta waves him away, her face scrunched. “Go, the Express has just parked. Don't get all lovey-dovey in my office.”
“My thanks for this… fruitless negotiation, then.” Aventurine turns on his heels and walks out, his lips barely containing a satisfied grin.
The door closes behind him. Herta returns to her work, only to be interrupted by yet another arrival moments later.
“This week's curio maintenance report, Madam Herta.” Asta places a tab at her desk. “You've concluded your meeting with the IPC?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Herta doesn't bother to correct her.
“Hm. He's still around. Accompanying the Nameless, even,” Asta remarks, thoughtful. “The Astral Express crew must have a good relationship with the IPC.”
Herta pauses her work to shoot Asta an expression of borderline horror the puppet must have installed just for this moment. “Please don't ever say that again.”
“Huh?”