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He nods, though I can see his face is pale. His communicator rings, distracting him momentarily. As he picks up the call, I see over his shoulder that it is from a magnificent looking Venorian female. His expression clears. “Hey Rivlor,” he says.
“Cute boy, tell me how you are.”
“I’m doing good. We’ve finished being processed and are just on our way to our new lodgings.”
“How was the shuttle flight? Are they treating you well?”
We stand in the shadow cast by my drone, while he continues his conversation with Rivlor, the commander of the Venorian cargo ship that brought him here.
“The descent to the planet surface was a bit rough, so I’m a bit shook up. I’ll admit, I’m not looking forward to climbing into the drone that’s right in front of me.”
Her deep voice takes on a soothing, yet commanding tone. “I will stay on the line with you, Wyatt. Put me on projector mode and look at me the whole time.”
I decide it is time to interject. “That will not be necessary. I will ensure he is fine.”
Rivlor’s eyes swing up, looking for the person who has just spoken. Wyatt adjusts his communicator screen so that she can see me. “And you are?”
“I am Kirimor, Melinda’s new mate, and high priest of Krovatia. Wyatt is under my protection and I will see him delivered safely to his lodgings.”
“I see.”
She considers me for a long moment then turns to Wyatt, whose eyes have been following the power play between us in bemusement. “Cute boy, how do you feel about that? Tell me the truth. If you do not feel safe, I will come to get you right away.”
Wyatt stares at me, standing powerfully before him with my hands on hips. Then he returns his gaze to Rivlor. “I—um, it’s alright. We’re cool.”
“It is getting hot standing out here,” I say. “Let us be on our way.”
“Wyatt, should you need me, you must call,” urges Rivlor.
“I will,” he promises.
They end the call and I assist Wyatt to climb up into my snug, sun-powered drone. He looks around him doubtfully. “This is smaller than the drones I’m used to.”
“It has the most energy efficient technology available in the entire universe, and it is entirely safe. I will ensure I get you there safely, Wyatt.”
He nods nervously, not looking convinced, and straps himself in. I see him take out a paper bag from the satchel he is carrying.
“What is that for?” I ask in puzzlement.
“It’s just something my therapist suggested to help me regulate my fear. I breathe into it, in and out.”
“I see. And does it help?”
He smiles wryly. “A little. What really works is distracting conversation.”
“Well, I am happy to converse with you during our journey.” I start the engine and see him startle. He buries his face in the paper bag. “It is fine, Wyatt,” I say, trying to sound reassuring.This is the man who thought he could hold on to Melinda? No wonder she left him.
As we begin our ascent, I start a conversation. “So, Wyatt, I hear you are to put on some music and drama shows for us. I am very much looking forward to seeing them. Do you have a venue arranged? If not, I am sure I can be of assistance.”
“It’s sorted,” he says shortly into his bag.
“Melinda is very excited about a singer called Ricky Charles. She tells me he is famed across your world for his singing.”
“He’s one of the best.”
“I will be sure to bring her to see him perform. Anything to make my Melinda happy, I will do.”
He huffs into his bag.
