Page 8 of Ezra
I forgot I’d told her about that. “Actually, I?—”
A loud ringing from Vaughn’s office interrupts me and draws him away. “Drat,” he grumbles. “That’s probably important. We’ll worry about your new tasks tomorrow. For today, let’s just make sure our guests are enjoying themselves.”
I turn to speak with Diana again, but she’s already walking away. Whatever it is apparently can’t wait, or maybe she just wants to get out of here. I resolve to send her a message later, maybe give her a call, just see how everything’s going.
The museum is quiet until about ten o’clock when the school buses arrive, and families with young children file in through the doors to get an early start on their weekend. If this were any other situation, my spirit would be soaring, glad for this opportunity to prove myself in a leadership role. But Diana looked so sad. I’ve always wanted something like this to happen for me, but not at someone else’s expense.
I walk through the dinosaur exhibit, where lines of children in their little school uniforms, their teachers, and tour guides discuss history in front of towering fossils and bone. I recognize my old school colors then—blue blazers and yellow ties. I didn’t realize North Elementary was here today. Those were the days.
“Excuse me,” a feminine voice behind me says.
“Yes?” I ask, then realize the woman who addressed me is an android, and she’s leading a small child by the hand. She has beautiful brown skin and tight black curls.
“Oh,” she says in surprise. “You’re Katrina Carson.”
I didn’t expect an android to know who I am. She seems wary of me, but I’m at work, and despite what some people in the pro-bionic movement like to say, I’m not a jerk.
“I am. I work here,” I reply politely. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I’m a bionic teaching assistant with North Elementary,” she explains, motioning to the child. “Can you direct me to the restroom? I’m having trouble connecting to the Wi-Fi to get my bearings.”
The little girl she’s accompanying is all but doing the potty dance. “Of course!” I say quickly, pointing. “Go down this hall and take a right, and then it’s on your left.”
Relieved, the teaching assistant smiles. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Hey! Hey Katrina Carson!”
I turn as the android and her squirmy little student hurriedly make their way to the restroom. Two young men come right up to me.
“Can you believe this place allows androids in here?” one sneers, watching the assistant walk away. “I’d ban all these tin cans.”
I purse my lips. “Is there something I can help you with, or...”
“We’re big fans,” the other says excitedly. “We follow you on PhotoGram. We’re all about Humanity First. We wondered if you’d take a selfie with us?”
“Oh. Sure,” I say.
They both squeeze in on either side of me with cheeky smiles. I offer one too.
“Say cheese,” says the more eager of the two.
“Nah, fuck that. Say ‘burn them all,’” the other comments. “‘No more fucking droids.’ ‘Shut them all down.’”
“I’m not saying that,” I reply, my patience wearing thin.
“C’mon, please? It’s for our Humanity First account.”
“Yeah, we’re trying to bust our way into the influencer business!”
“I’m not saying it,” I repeat, letting them snap one photo before pulling away. That’s quite enough of that. “I’m not going to promote violence, and I’d appreciate it if you’d watch your mouths and keep your voices down. There are children here,” I point out sternly as a few kids scamper by to peer at an exhibit.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry, Katrina.”
Giving them one final warning look, I return to my duties.
