Working Lunch
© 2020 by Walter Reimer


Balakrishnan twirled the chopsticks in her paw while she surveyed the dishes that had been presented to her. Grilled prawns swam in a butter sauce redolent of garlic and finely diced chilies; a bowl of steamed rice rested beside a smaller bowl of kimchi, with an accompanying dish of crisp, deep-fried samosas. The canine smiled at the fragrances rising to her nose, and her smile broadened as she lifted her gaze to look at the vir seated across from her.

The little mossbacked slut looked a little ill.

Good.

Of course, the vevek had tried to do the same thing. A bowl of resekdhe’ and some peschij sat in front of her, along with a box containing d’rathi. The gruel looked and smelled like very unfortunate diarrhea, the fish was as disgusting as she recalled it, and it didn’t surprise the Terran that Navot would want d’rathi for a dessert. The thought that the shlani ate live maggots as part of a confection had sickened her when she’d first been posted to the Empire.

She was used to it now.

The Dhole-Akita mix caught up a prawn in her chopsticks, swirled it around in the butter and brought it to her mouth. The first bite took away an easy third of the prawn, and she practically murred in pleasure at the taste and firm texture. They’d been cooked perfectly.

She paused in her chewing to watch Navot spoon up some of her resekdhe’ and noted that the vir enjoyed the taste.

It took the canine a moment to suppress her disappointment at how quickly the vir had adjusted to the new battlefield.

The two ate in relative silence, while two opposing star maps hung in midair over their heads. Terra’s position required that the Empire withdraw completely from its threatening salient, pay a large indemnity, and assist the Confederacy in subjugating the Colonies and returning them to Terran suzerainty.

Obviously, the Sovereign would never agree to it. It offended the Zherkōmlēshjir.

Navot set her spoon aside and picked up her tongs, ripping strips from the peschij’s back and eating in studied concentration on the text scrolling along on her padd. She took a swallow of the fruit juice set beside her plate and caught Balakrishnan looking at her. “Ulnt ‘i?”

Anulka set her chopsticks down a little reluctantly (the kimchi was really quite good) and took a sip from her drink before saying, “Neither of us have much flexibility in our positions. I was wondering how the impasse might be broken.”

Navot smiled. “Ernh. I am fairly confident, Balakrishnan-jih.”

“Oh? Why?”

Again, the vir smiled and the tip of her tail pointed at the Terran envoy’s military aide. She picked up her tongs again and resumed eating as the canine and the raven exchanged startled looks. The avian shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Balakrishnan asked suspiciously, turning back to face the shlan.

“Haven’t you guessed by now, Balakrishnan-jih?” Navot touched her lips with a napkin. “I shall give you a clue. The Sovereign has chosen diplomacy at this juncture as the alternative to summoning the full might of the Empire. He is willing to give Admiral-General al-Sakai and your government this one chance to avoid a war that you will lose.”

The canine sat back in her seat and slowly began to clap her paws. “Wonderful performance, Navot-jih. You should have taken up acting as a profession.” She gave a slight jerk of her head to her two aides, and they headed for the door as she stood up. “I’m going to take a short break for a walk,” the Dhole-Akita mix said. “When I return, I trust that you will be more sensible and realistic.”

The vir glanced at her two aides, who gestured approvingly, and she returned to her lunch with a smile as the text on her padd slowly faded away.