Page 5 of Alpha's Embrace
Tory shrugged. “I don’t really know. In ten years, I only noted they kept the lawns trimmed out front, and the rose bushes. The back was always weeds. I think.”
“Some of the rooms face in that direction. The view is not adequate.”
“If I may be honest, sir, the view is the least concern of most of our patients. Sylphs, for the most part, don’t even know where they are, let alone comprehend their daily routines.”
“That is no excuse to have our establishment run into ruins.”
Tory nodded. “I’ll set up the meetings.”
“All our patients have a range of varying needs. That does not mean we should expect their comfort is not lessened if we think they don’t notice dirty sheets and windows, or a mass of tangled weeds in the yards. Or bland food that is the same each day.”
“Some are on strict diets from doctor’s orders.”
“I understand. And some are not. But I will also be inspecting the kitchens. I’ve already looked over the menus and find them lacking in fresh fruits, salads and vegetables.”
Tory looked as though he were suppressing another sigh. “The budget--”
“Is my problem,” I finished for him. “I’ll be rearranging a lot of it and asking for more from the state where we need it.”
“Yes, sir.”
There was a pause and Tory shifted nervously in his seat.
I watched him for a moment, then finally said, “That’s all. Thank you.”
As he left the room, I watched him shuffle across the floor. Did he hate his job? I understood if he didn’t like me. I was new. It was to be expected. I was going to be making changes suited to my ideas of the smooth running of the colony. For people who had been working here many years, it would be seen as a disruption. But it all had to be done. I had five years of experience organizing hospital staffs and needs. It would all be put into play now.
I didn’t like a lot of what I’d already seen in my first two weeks here and in examining all the reports. Too many reports, especially on patients, were lacking in detail that gave no picture whatsoever as to their individual health and well-being. There were no recent updates. Everything was too generalized, as if dashed off in a hurry.
I also didn’t like it that patients had no contact with each other, no socialization. I understood Sylphs were violent, even the youngest children, and many could not even speak. Any who lived past puberty were hyper-sexual, but to never socialize with anyone except doctors, nurses or guards seemed wrong.
I would have to think on that issue and study it further, for I was no expert on Sylphs, by any means, but mainly a paper-pusher with a second degree in family therapy.
In the meantime, I had a lot of my own interviews and investigating to do. I’d be writing a lot of reports in the coming months, and doing a lot of begging for better funding.
When I took this job, I knew it wouldn’t be paradise. I knew I would be working for the proper care of Sylphs, most of whom were extremely mentally handicapped. That alone would not be easy, but I wanted to try. The job paid well, and I knew I could handle it. I liked the idea of perhaps making life a little better for those who could not do for themselves.
It wasn’t entirely altruistic. Of course I was getting paid. But I’d gone to school for this sort of job because I cared what happened to those people in our society who were hidden away, kept secret, including Omegas who should have more rights. I went to school to study the wrongs of the world and figure out how to right them. My save the world complex faded at the end of college, but I saw that I could still do good when I made my aims smaller and more focused.
I wasn’t a real doctor, but I’d come up in the ranks doing tons of bureaucracy work in several hospitals, so I was qualified for the Riverside job.
I knew the doctors and nurses would resent me that I didn’t have an MD, but I would work hard to make them see I was needed because of my organizational skills.
I was the guy who got things done.
Chapter Three
Misha
“It’s cold outside. I have a sweater for you if you’d like,” said my trusted servant, Laro, as he escorted me to oversee my outdoor lands.
My hands were cuffed behind me, but he would remove the bracelets as soon as I walked through the door to my realm so I could stretch in the fresh air, and play with the balls or the exercise equipment kept there for my use.
“Thank you, but I rarely feel the cold,” I replied, smiling. Hyper-sexuality made my body feel hot all over. I was in a constant fever. But it was nice that he asked.
The sweater looked beautiful, though, a little old and lumpy, a little dusty, but I appreciated the fine wear my servants sometimes presented me.
My servants were good to me. They waited on me night and day, bringing my meals on antique golden trays, escorting me out into the hall—hands cuffed for my own safety—to stand against the gleaming walls while they changed my sheets and mopped my floor.
