Page 32 of Pulled By the Tail
Georgia
Freema,
There is no coffee in space. Stay on Earth! It’s not worth it. Also, send coffee.
-G
The day started way too early. No guests were staying in the house, so construction started a split second after dawn, and Georgia needed caffeine to deal with the racket. Unfortunately, whatever was in her mug might have been brown and hot, but it was not coffee. The tea Bright favored tasted of grass and berries. Not the worst thing but also not coffee. Had she known the dire extent of the caffeine situation, she’d have picked up coffee, or the Corravian equivalent, at the general store.
Georgia frowned at the cup and added another spoonful of sugar, hoping the muck wasn’t the Corravian equivalent. Earth coffee was a fairly unique crop and early colonizers brought the bean with them, planting, harvesting, and creating a lucrative industry. Getting good coffee shouldn’t have been difficult. Even with Corra on the fringes of charted space, it should be available, just expensive.
“Glaring at it won’t make it taste better,” Talen said. “Did you sleep poorly?”
“The opposite, actually.” She covered a yawn with the back of her hand. Yesterday had been emotionally draining and she went straight to bed after dinner. Curled up under the self-heating blanket, she slept solidly until hammering and banging woke her. “I’m just missing coffee. My brain doesn’t wake up until my second cup.”
“That is an addictive beverage for humans, yes? Will you have withdrawal symptoms? Do you need a medic?”
“Are you even serious?”
He waited, hands pressed flat on the table, ready to spring into action.
Totally serious, then.
“I might get a headache from the lack of caffeine, but I’ll be fine. No medical intervention needed.” She pulled out her tablet and jotted down a note. She had a feeling that she’d be taking a lot of notes today. “But I’ll figure out how to source a decent brew.”
“Fremmian kava is often available in town. I believe it has levels of caffeine you would find acceptable.”
“Noted.” She wrote down the item. “I’m ready for my first day of work, boss.”
“Let’s start with a tour. As you can see, the kitchen is classically appointed and maintains the historic character of the home,” Talen said loftily.
“More like we don’t have the budget to modernize. Don’t look at the refrigeration unit funny. It’s temperamental.” Bright entered the room, carrying a basket of laundry. Talen sprang to his feet and took the burden.
“Temper-mental. Funny,” Georgia said. Her brain hadn’t warmed up enough for wordplay, but she recognized a good game when she saw it. Heard it. Whatever. She needed coffee, dammit.
“Lack of funds. Historic preservation. It’s all how you look at it,” Talen said. He vanished through a door, presumably to the laundry room.
Thirty minutes into the tour and it became obvious that the historic character of the house was due entirely to the budget, or the lack thereof.
The public-facing rooms were gorgeous and freshly painted. The native wood flooring, a pale cream, had been polished to a luminous sheen. It looked stunning but Georgia suspected it was a bitch to keep clean. Every little speck of dirt would show. The furniture was sparse. What was present was heavy in an older fashion but in good condition.
The drawing room, the dining room, parlor, and the study blended together. The library was noteworthy because it had no actual books. Talen said the collection was out for restoration. He glowed with the obvious pride he took in the house as he explained the original state and what work had been done. Georgia couldn’t help but catch that same pride and excitement.
The ceiling was a deep shade of twilight blue. Gold painted stars scattered across the surface, forming alien constellations.
“Is that real? I mean, are those actual constellations?” she asked.
“The constellations are real but it’s also a story. I researched the design while it was being restored.” He pointed to the center design. “That is the princess. Her father set three impossible tasks to win her hand.” The golden stars formed a cluster, but Georgia could not see a princess in the abstract shape. Talen continued, “Two males initially competed against each other, then worked together to win the princess and became friends in the process. Their quest is in the corners of the room.”
“And those are in the night sky?”
“Yes, but not at the same time. Some are seasonal,” he said.
Other than the princess being a prize to be handed out—Georgia still felt some kind of way about that—it was a charming story that unfolded across the stars in real time.
The conservatory was a lush explosion of greenery and rich, earthy scents. Plate glass formed a dome, opening directly under a vivid blue sky. Snow collected at the seams in the glass, drifting in the wind.
“This has to be stunning in warmer weather, but I’d worry the glass will break,” she said. She could imagine the cacophony of a hard rain pounding against the glass. Or dense fog slithering by. Or the shake and sway of the glass dome in a windstorm.
