MOVING TOMORROW 4693-290

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I have checked everything over and over. All is packed and I am ready to leave this place. I'll be sharing my flat with three other men. Pretty neat. I've never done this, not in my adult life at least. I used to share my room with another when I was a kid, and when I came to Tanagura as a young teenager and lived in Iason's home. But not after that. I have enough money to rent something on my own, but I felt it was a good thing to take a step back into that carefree life I once had and just to get a little taste of what it was like to be free. Does that make sense to you, Artemisia?

Raoul asked me today if I wanted him to help out in any way, but I declined. I know he just wanted to be helpful and I know it hurt him for me to shut him out like that but, the fact is, I don't want my flat mates knowing I work for a Blondie…or at least that I am working so CLOSE to a Blondie. Raoul is a well-known face and although this is a nice area, it is still not the area where many Blondies make a special appearance.

I am so excited. I feel like a kid. My own room and, finally, I'm not alone. Will write more when I have the opportunity.

SETTLED IN: 4693-293

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Raoul is not talking to me at the office!

Who cares? I like it here in my new apartment… so far. It's been only a few days, but I like it. Although my flat mates are not entirely as pedantic as I am, I find myself being able to cope since most of the time I'm out at until late evening. My new hideout is the Café. I sit there with an afternoon coffee, working on my laptop, or just filling you in with the latest details. Just like now. My coffee has arrived. This is good. I did tell them that if they wanted people to come and enjoy a cup of good coffee they had to make it at least three times as strong as they had been.

OFFICE TROUBLE: 4693-295

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Raoul hasn't said anything to me in days. But, there was something very unusual about him today. At first it was nothing noticeable. Raoul wore his regular Blondie outfit, which was that pair of neatly ironed trousers to which he had added a shirt and a slim, three-quarter jacket, and in his hands he held an insanely expensive leather case in which he had a lot of insanely important documents. I watched him from a distance as he marched with determined steps towards the office, giving out orders concerning today's tasks. It was something he had never done before; not in this way. The journey between the elevator door and his office was interrupted only by the people, whose name he called out in a rude, authoritative manner:

"Warreny, inventory report on my desk by five! Stewart, 'Health and Safety'-database updated by tomorrow morning! Gillian! When I tell you to conduct a demographic survey on breeding patterns, I want you to include all age-groups!"

"But, my Lord," Gillian stuttered. "Children below the age of thirteen are not sexually active to the extent…"

"Don't be so FUCKING sure of yourself!" Raoul roared. It made the entire office stop and stare. It didn't seem to bother the big boss though, for he continued as if he had been the ruler of the world. I saw that the scientific officer was getting increasingly unsure and visibly jolted with fear as Raoul hollered for the weekly summary already, in the middle of the week.

"What?! More money for more lab-rats?"

"Some of our products have proven to be a little unhealthy to the animals…"

"Get tougher rats!"

SLAM! The door was shut and no one dared to pose a question about this behavior for the rest of the day. I was pretty much bothered by it though. I still am…

What's with all the changes? What has happened during these years of my absence?

I stepped into his office later on, for I had to have his signature on a requisition to order some new programs for the computer. I was anticipating an outburst from him, or him giving me a hideous task like he did with the others.

What I found was not what I had expected. He sat in his chair, staring at his computer screen. His jacket was but a rumpled heap on the office couch and his shirt was only buttoned half way up his torso. He cast a mean look at me, but did not dismiss me, and I dared to enter. A harsh command to close the door made me obey without a second of delay.

"Lock it!"

I obeyed again.

"Come here." He turned softer in a huff. Strangely, that worried me more than his previous outburst. What was he up to? When I stood next to him he leaned over his desk and asked if I could just rub his neck a little. He claimed to have a splitting headache due to a lot of tension, and considering his previous tantrum I didn't even question that. However, I was reluctant to touch him and my few seconds of hesitation was immediately interpreted as a denial. I was about to say something in my defense, but he brushed me off.

"All right, forget it. What is it you wanted?"

I handed the requisition over to him and he looked at it. He didn't even dignify me with a grunt when he handed the signed digital pad back to me. Congratulations Raoul; you made me feel like an ass again. I hate the way he makes me feel as if things are my fault. I stopped at the door and though he told me to get out, I defiantly returned to him. He turned to face me with his burning gaze and then I realized he was really tired. His eyes were feverish, his forehead damp with tiny pearls of sweat, and his breathing strenuous. He wasn't well. He removed his eyes from me and looked past me – I don't know where.

"I feel really sick." He whispered. I felt a tinge of pity and offered to be of assistance if he still needed it.

I helped him over to the couch where he almost collapsed and I was beginning to feel genuinely worried about him. I removed his shoes and the jacket on which he lay, and asked if he needed anything to drink. He declined everything, except my presence. He wanted me near and so I stayed. It didn't take long before he fell asleep and I sat down near his computer to do my own work. I connected to my own workstation via the intranet and kept on tapping on the keyboard, occasionally turning around as I heard him snoozing. On the digital display outside the door, I sent a message to my colleagues giving them the rest of the day off. I know I did this without Raoul's consent, but I was quite sure he wouldn't mind. The demand for the reports was just a demonstration of general annoyance. It had no bearing or purpose, besides I was sure it was better to leave him in peace.

I did something awful, Artemisia. My heart was in my throat for fear of him waking up each time I was inside his personal files. Remember, when I told you about the time he was drunk and stared at the screen? As I was working on my script I came to remember that night and decided to track down this file. I re-started his computer and whent to the system root to rewind the projections on the screen as they were at a specific time, at a specific date. It took no more then a few seconds for the system to re-project the screen images from that date; then it asked "Are you sure you want to reopen eight files?" One of which I saw was a recording of some sort.

I was about to confirm, but my fingers froze and my mind started to play tricks on me. Since when did I become a decent guy? I had no problems breaking into people's private files before. Why was I insecure now? I don't know how long I was hesitating, but by the time I looked at the clock it was already past eight in the evening, and so I turned the damn thing off.

Raoul had been sleeping since before lunchtime and had not woken up even for a toilet visit. His body must have been exhausted. I wonder why?
I walked hesitantly up to him and sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch to watch him a little while more. He looked very peaceful. As I watched his eyes move under the pale lids I noticed how extremely long and rich his eyelashes are. Closest to the skin, the base of the thick lashes was golden in color and about midway they turned completely snow white, making them disappear and thereby not revealing their actual beauty. What a pity. This guy is a real babe. I know that Iason was a beauty, but as I sat there I was beginning to get the idea that Raoul was a bit more of a… dish. He was asleep and therefore, I took my time to scrutinize him thoroughly. My eyes devoured every inch of his naked chest and took time to savor every second that they rested on the rosy nipple that dared to peek out from underneath the white fabric of his shirt.

Damn! I thought I was pale and colorless. I've never seen skin so white, so delicate, and so inhuman. For a moment there I thought about cutting him just to make sure it was red blood running through his veins and not some mechanical droid fluid, which was milky and opaque.

I took a closer look at him. No, he was real and not a droid. His lips were red and his cheeks were regaining a pink blush, just enough to ensure I wasn't looking at a corpse. Besides, he was still sweating and when dead bodies begin to "sweat", they usually smell so bad you can smell them from a mile away. I suspected Raoul must be suffering from fever so I leaned closer to take his temperature. I know Artemisia, you don't have to tell me how stupid that was. I caught his scent and could no longer pull away. I was trapped in his aura and remained close to him, hovering above his lips fighting the temptation to kiss and devour him completely. I fought my way to his forehead and pressed my lips against his skin. I can't tell you if it was a kiss or if it was to measure his temperature. I really can't. I can still taste his salty sweat on my lips although it's been hours ago since I left him there. I know he was still asleep then. I wonder if he has gone home or if he is still there? Do you think I shall call the office just to make sure he is all right?

Maybe I shouldn't interfere. I am sure his driver must have called him. Do you think I should? I wonder…

Well, Atremisia. He wasn't there. No answer.