[Inside Wilhelm's office, the chair behind the large desk is swiveled to face away from the doorway; none of Wilhelm's 'cabinmates' are present, but a certain Realian stands just inside the doorway. He looks resolute. The chair doesn't turn
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Comments 45
[. . . that doesn't sound good. :/]
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It is well past time that we had a serious discussion. You are, after all, one my of Canaan-model Realians, and the only one present in this place.
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[walks closer to the desk, standing in almost parade-rest a few feet in front of it]
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[Wilhelm's hand rises into view past the edge of the chair, open as though expecting something to be set in it. After a moment, small globes of light gather above his palm, a solar system in miniature that whirls in place, glowing and yet seeming almost void-like between the tiny stars]
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[soooo about that blood all over his chin . . . and chest . . . and flightsuit . . .]
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[Yeah, about that. He's closing the distance left between them with light, cautious steps, and raises a hand to about Canaan's jaw-level. No contact is made yet, though.]
Don't speak yet. Let me see.
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