"You need a wife."
"That's impossible, professor. Out of the question."
Gerald leaned back in his chair. He raised both hands to knead his throbbing temples, then closed his eyes a moment, wishing-praying, actually- that when he opened them again both the headache and the non-emotional hedgehog would be gone. But-damn it- they weren't. The nagging pain was still there, and so was his best and greatest creation. The hedgehog was a headache in form, slanted back now with his arms crossed and his hover shoes up on a desk. " I don't need a wife, professor," Shadow said again, in that voice that said don't you dare argue with me. The founder of the world's largest space colony sighed as he continued to massage his forehead. "You should get feelings. Damn it. You've been alone since I created you. It's the way you wanted it. But you need emotions."
"I don't think so."
Something in the hedgehog's tone made Gerald lean forward. Shadow the hedgehog made demands. He didn't plead. But now there seemed to be a tentative note playing just beneath the usual bravado.
"If it were possible," Shadow said. "But it's not. Right now all your female scientist are assigned. There's no one—"
Gerald cut him off, jerking his thumb toward the closed office door. "There's a roomful of females out there, and you bloody well know it."
"Secretaries." Shadow dismissed them with a wave of his hand. "They always gather when I come. You know that. They flock like silly pigeons at a popcorn festival."
"Surely one of them—"
"No." Shadow banged his fist on the desk. "Absolutely not. They're clerks, not worth it."
"They're women for god's sake. That qualifies any one of them to play the part of your wife. "
"I understand that, but…"
"What you need to understand friend." As Gerald's voice lowered, his eyes lifted slowly to meet Shadow straight on. Gray to Gray. Steel to stone. There was a spark. And then it died. "You can't do it alone. Not this time."
Suddenly shadow did understand. He understood all to well, and Gerald's voice softened considerably. "Perhaps I should assign someone else…"
"No." In one swift movement Shadow's shoes hit the floor and he was out his chair, even though he was small, it was like he was towering over Gerald. "She's mine. If anybody's going to bring Majesta down, professor, it's going to be me. Nobody else, Me. You owe me that, damn it."
Gerald didn't answer for a moment. He studied his folded hands, then let his eyes drift closed. When he spoke, it was quietly, with calm deliberation. "The women did you considerable damage, Shadow. More than I had imagined."
"I'm over it," came the terse reply.
"And the depression?"
"That, too. It's been five months." Shadow yanked his watch from his wrist and snapped it open. "Five months. Hell, its been a hundred twenty-two days, ten hours and thirty-seven minutes."
