He slunk off to his play corner, sat down at his table, and began making motor lips noises.
“Not having a sponsor might make it easier to correct this situation. No objection. No interference. No blowback.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kellareal agreed.
She looked at Kellareal. Really looked at him for, perhaps, the first time in centuries. “I’ll probably need your help.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Huber. Stop that and come here!”
Huber looked up from what he was doing, which appeared to be stirring the beginnings of a tropical storm in the Gulf of Mexico. He dropped his hand like he’d been caught doing something naughty and shuffled over to stand at the foot of Heralda’s dais.
“Go talk to this mortal mischief-maker. Find out if he’s the sort who could keep his mouth shut if we give him what he wants.”
Huber stood up ramrod straight, gave an exaggerated mock salute, and attempted to click his heels together. It looked a little ridiculous in his everyday costume of white toga and biker boots. The boots more thumped together than clicked.
Heralda rolled her eyes. “Hurry up.”
“Why is it again that you don’t ever run your own errands?” She turned a glare on him that included bared, clenched teeth. “Okay! I’m going!” he whined as the doors flew open to let him pass.
Sol had spent a long time in the library. At first he’d found it amusing to walk around shouting, “Hello,” and then listen to the echo. But as much as he thought of himself as the antithesis of a people person, the solitude grew tedious after a stretch of time and he was ready to break up the boredom, even if the only way to do that was to listen to birds pretend to be birds.
He was lying on his back on his grassy knoll watching the shimmer of aspen-like leaves in the trees above him, remembering the silky feel of Farnsworth’s hair and the way her eyes would get so bright when he kissed her the way a woman like her should be kissed – thoroughly. He wondered about how she’d felt when he’d left his body behind, if she’d taken it really hard. If she was doing all right. If she was still wearing his ring.
He didn’t hear anyone approach and jumped a little when someone nearby cleared his throat. Sol raised his head and looked in the direction of the sound.
There was a curious character standing about eight feet away wearing a goofy expression, a toga, biker boots, and a ridiculous laurel wreath on his head. Sol wouldn’t be mean enough to say the little guy was misshapen, but it did cross his mind that a few pushups and laps around the pasture could only do the figure good.
Sol remained in a semi-reclining position, but propped himself up on his elbows. “I was here first,” he deadpanned.
Huber giggled. “I know.”
“Well? What do you want?”
“I’ve been sent to ask a couple of questions.”
“Did you bring snacks?”
Huber giggled again. “You want snacks?”
“No. Just thought I’d ask.”
“Oh.”
“You want to sit down?”
“Okay.”
Sol watched, fascinated, while Huber crossed his legs meditation-style in midair before floating down and hovering just inches above the grass.
“Neat trick.”
Huber looked momentarily confused, as if he hadn’t thought about the fact that everyone couldn’t defy gravity at will. His brow cleared when he realized what Sol meant. “Oh, yes. I have others.”
“I’ll bet. How about raising the dead?”
Huber waved his hand and said, “Sometimes,” offhandedly. “And speaking of that…”