Thanks again to my great beta for doing these chapters in time for posting
today....Merry Christmas Karen....and anyone else reading.
8. Dylan.
Here it comes, she thought, as she followed him through what seemed to her a total maze of corridors and side turnings. They went through doors that he had to duck under, but she didn't.
*I'm going to find out why I was parcelled off and sent here without any warning or explanation. Will I like what I hear, and does it really matter? * she wondered.
So lost in her own thoughts was she, that she bumped into his back as he suddenly stopped and rapped sharply on a door. He turned and gave her a stony look.
*Great, now he thinks I'm clumsy as well as stupid! * she wailed to herself.
At the command to enter, she found herself in front of the Commodore.
"Take a seat please, Miss Mackenzie, and we'll discuss the orders I received about you." Ross said to her, indicating the chair in front of his desk.
"Please, my name is Dylan. Don't call me Miss Mackenzie - I don't like it." she said, settling herself into the seat and shifting slightly so that she could glance at McQueen, who was standing behind her, hands clasped behind his back.
She leaned forward over the desk, whispering, "Is he always like that?"
Ross looked slightly non-plussed.
"He is an officer of the Corps, ma'am, and he follows protocol to the letter." He smiled wickedly. "And I suspect he loves to show off how good he is at it too!"
She sat back smiling.
"So are you going to tell me why I'm here?"
Ross straightened in his seat - he hadn't been looking forward to this.
"Ma'am, I have directives from the Secretary General that inform me that you are here to "play" with two of my finest officers."
She stared straight at him, confusion and fear written large in her eyes.
"Play?"
*Good god, she thought, play? Please don't let it mean what it might. *
Ross sighed.
"It has been determined, through copious research, that the reason so many In Vitro's have problems adjusting to. well, life in general. is that they had no childhood, no chances to play, as children do."
At her blank expression, he continued.
"It has been deemed necessary to teach said In Vitro's the lessons that natural born children learn through play, to aid them in their assimilation into the population at large."
She let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding.
"And I'm here because?" she asked, not really believing what she was hearing.
"Because I have two In Vitro officers who will "apparently" benefit from your experience in this field," he almost whispered, deliberately not looking at McQueen.
She sat silently for a few moments, thinking, then said; "I have one or two questions, if you don't mind."
The Commodore smiled. "Of course."
" Well firstly, why me? I mean, surely there must be someone better than me? And what makes them so sure I know what I'm doing?"
Ross waved his hand in the air. "That one I'm afraid I don't know the answer to, but surely you must have some experience in the field?"
She nodded. "Oh yes. I've done structured play sessions before, many times, for the Community, but not for anyone else."
At the word community, so obviously a name, both men glanced at her, wondering who she really was.
She fidgeted in her seat.
"Commodore, one more question."
He nodded,
"Well," she started, and then stopped. They were going to think she truly was ignorant. "What's an In Vitro?"
He couldn't help himself - Ross just gaped at her, not knowing what to say.
McQueen stepped forward.
"A Tank, ma'am." he said, a note of contempt in his voice. "Like me."
She seemed to shrink at the very sound of his voice.
"I thought a tank was an army vehicle, or something you keep fish in," she whispered, a red flush creeping up her neck, "but it seems I was wrong."
With that, she leapt up and, pushing past McQueen, fled the room. Her embarrassment made her want to get as far away as possible.
Ross looked at McQueen, eyebrows raised.
"Well, what are you standing there for? After her. Go. Now!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
8. Dylan.
Here it comes, she thought, as she followed him through what seemed to her a total maze of corridors and side turnings. They went through doors that he had to duck under, but she didn't.
*I'm going to find out why I was parcelled off and sent here without any warning or explanation. Will I like what I hear, and does it really matter? * she wondered.
So lost in her own thoughts was she, that she bumped into his back as he suddenly stopped and rapped sharply on a door. He turned and gave her a stony look.
*Great, now he thinks I'm clumsy as well as stupid! * she wailed to herself.
At the command to enter, she found herself in front of the Commodore.
"Take a seat please, Miss Mackenzie, and we'll discuss the orders I received about you." Ross said to her, indicating the chair in front of his desk.
"Please, my name is Dylan. Don't call me Miss Mackenzie - I don't like it." she said, settling herself into the seat and shifting slightly so that she could glance at McQueen, who was standing behind her, hands clasped behind his back.
She leaned forward over the desk, whispering, "Is he always like that?"
Ross looked slightly non-plussed.
"He is an officer of the Corps, ma'am, and he follows protocol to the letter." He smiled wickedly. "And I suspect he loves to show off how good he is at it too!"
She sat back smiling.
"So are you going to tell me why I'm here?"
Ross straightened in his seat - he hadn't been looking forward to this.
"Ma'am, I have directives from the Secretary General that inform me that you are here to "play" with two of my finest officers."
She stared straight at him, confusion and fear written large in her eyes.
"Play?"
*Good god, she thought, play? Please don't let it mean what it might. *
Ross sighed.
"It has been determined, through copious research, that the reason so many In Vitro's have problems adjusting to. well, life in general. is that they had no childhood, no chances to play, as children do."
At her blank expression, he continued.
"It has been deemed necessary to teach said In Vitro's the lessons that natural born children learn through play, to aid them in their assimilation into the population at large."
She let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding.
"And I'm here because?" she asked, not really believing what she was hearing.
"Because I have two In Vitro officers who will "apparently" benefit from your experience in this field," he almost whispered, deliberately not looking at McQueen.
She sat silently for a few moments, thinking, then said; "I have one or two questions, if you don't mind."
The Commodore smiled. "Of course."
" Well firstly, why me? I mean, surely there must be someone better than me? And what makes them so sure I know what I'm doing?"
Ross waved his hand in the air. "That one I'm afraid I don't know the answer to, but surely you must have some experience in the field?"
She nodded. "Oh yes. I've done structured play sessions before, many times, for the Community, but not for anyone else."
At the word community, so obviously a name, both men glanced at her, wondering who she really was.
She fidgeted in her seat.
"Commodore, one more question."
He nodded,
"Well," she started, and then stopped. They were going to think she truly was ignorant. "What's an In Vitro?"
He couldn't help himself - Ross just gaped at her, not knowing what to say.
McQueen stepped forward.
"A Tank, ma'am." he said, a note of contempt in his voice. "Like me."
She seemed to shrink at the very sound of his voice.
"I thought a tank was an army vehicle, or something you keep fish in," she whispered, a red flush creeping up her neck, "but it seems I was wrong."
With that, she leapt up and, pushing past McQueen, fled the room. Her embarrassment made her want to get as far away as possible.
Ross looked at McQueen, eyebrows raised.
"Well, what are you standing there for? After her. Go. Now!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~