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BA’SH
Ba’sh looked out the window of the hired hovercar with a sinking feeling.
He had planned the first event after arriving to be an easy one - a quick speech to the owners of the office park franchises that planned to build in Pirn after the remediation. Since it was only meant to be a few people, his team had set it up to take place in a cute little diner in the downtown area.
But as he arrived, he could see that they had clearly misjudged everything.
The whole block in front of the diner was thick with protesters carrying signs and projected holograms protesting the shutdown of the local mine.
“Should I keep driving, My Ruler?” the driver asked.
“No,” he said. “I should make an appearance. But let’s drop the kids off with Mrs. Slaite and Astyr at the ice cream shop on the other side of the park.”
“Ice cream,” Pia trilled excitedly.
Jax kept his mouth shut.
After they dropped the kids off with Mrs. Slaite and one of the guards without incident, they returned to the diner.
Thomm got out first, the big Bergalian guard clearing the way for Ba’sh and Yasmine as Pesh, the driver, brought up the rear.
The protesters yelled to him, and Ba’sh felt waves of anger in spite of his circlet. By the time they got inside, he was feeling sick to his stomach from the emotional overload.
“My Ruler,” a Vystian in a suit that probably cost as much as a hover vehicle said, rising to greet them.
The other two men at the table rose as well, then bowed in greeting. They all introduced themselves, and Ba’sh tried to commit their names to memory, but appreciated that Yasmine was clearly taking notes on her comms.
“I’m glad you could be here,” Ba’sh said at last. “I’ll keep this brief since it seems the citizens of Pirn are less than happy to see us here.”
“Sit. Eat with us,” the first man said. “Maybe they’ll give up if you take a little time. Let them tire themselves out.”
Ba’sh hadn’t eaten, but his stomach was tight with tension, and he certainly wasn’t going to sit and eat while some of his constituents were outside feeling angry.
From her spot at the table, Yasmine looked up at him, her lips pressed into a straight line. A wave of concern rolled off her.
“Just a moment, gentlemen,” Ba’sh said, and motioned for her to join him.
They walked together just out of hearing of the men. The diner had obviously been cleared for this event, which seemed excessive. But at least it meant they had privacy.
“Thomm will keep us safe, Yasmine,” he told her. “You don’t need to worry.”
“No, My Ruler, it’s not that,” she said. “Those people outside are upset, and they care about this issue. They wouldn’t be here in the middle of a workday if it wasn’t important to them. Now is the time when you need to listen more than ever.”
“You think I should let them in?” he asked dubiously.
“I think not hearing them out would be a major mistake,” she said.
“Let me say a few words to these guys,” he said. “I’ll think about it.”
She nodded once and headed back to the table.
Gods, but the girl knew how to stick to her guns.
“Gentlemen, I know we’ve had some rough plans for what a layout of office parks and the new hush rail might look like here in Pirn,” he began. “When we get closer to the remediation stage, we’ll be able to talk in more concrete terms. But while I’m here this week, I’ll want to hear what the citizens have to say as well.”
“Sure, sure,” the man in the fancy suit said. “We know you have to pander to the voters a little. We won’t worry about anything that might be said in those speeches. We have a gentlemen’s agreement here.”
Outside the window Ba’sh could see an older man wipe sweat from his brow and a younger worker offer him a cell of water. He could feel their despair, even from inside.
