didn’t like the question. He straightened until he stood a few inches taller, puffed up like some kind of bird. If his wings had been out they’d probably be threatening her.
He was suspicious. Lena spoke into her comm, soft enough that the suspect wouldn’t be able to hear. “I think I found him. Trying to get ID.”
“What? How?” It was a harsh, disbelieving whisper, as if Lena couldn’t have done her job in the time she had.
“He looks just like our guy,” she insisted. She turned to the suspect. “What’s your name?” She also had a list of approved attendees at this event, so even if she couldn’t see ID, she could cross him off by name alone. It wouldn’t be as thorough, but she needed to either detain him or move on.
The suspect bristled and scowled. “What sort of—”
Screams from the distant ballroom cut him off, and Lena forgot about him, taking off running towards the sound of the chaos. And chaos it was. Lena burst into the ballroom and took in the sight. A group of Zulir clustered in the center of the room, wings out and obscuring her view, but given the parameters of the mission she’d bet her last dollar that was the ambassador.
She didn’t see Solan anywhere and her comm was quiet, but she didn’t worry about that right now. The ambassador was being seen to and there was nothing she could do about that. She scanned the room, looking for anything out of place. And there he was. A Zulir in an unassuming brown coat took off running. He would have blended in with the background if he’d just stayed still.
Lena gave chase, thankful that high heels were not required with Zulir fashion. She jumped and tackled him to the ground, remembering only at the last minute that she could have used her wings. Too late now.
Something stabbed her in the stomach and she looked down to see the hilt of a knife. The simulation went black.
“Mission complete,” said the computer lady. “While the ambassador survived his wounds, Lena succumbed to blood loss before medical services could arrive. Due to her improperly identifying an innocent Synnr, the Apsyn agitator had time to act.”
Lena got to her feet and rubbed at the place she’d been stabbed. It wasn’t real, but the simulation sure made it feel that way. She could still feel the knife and it hurt like it was bruised. “He looked just like the guy! How was I supposed to know?” She didn’t know if yelling at a computer would do anything to solve her problem, but she couldn’t quite face Solan. This failure was completely at her feet. She’d asked Solan to trust her and he must have learned how much of a bad idea that was.
The computer answered. “Apsyns do not touch sentient non-Zulir species unless given no other choice. None would dance with a human.”
Dancing was the clue? That the Zulir had asked her to dance? Were Apsyn spies so bad that they couldn’t hide their bigotry even for ten minutes? Lena trudged up the stairs behind Solan and they both went to the kitchen. He didn’t say anything to her, and Lena wasn’t exactly sure why she’d followed instead of going back to the bedroom to wallow.
Wallowing wasn’t going to fix this. Time was counting down until their training was done. Sure, this was only day three, but the days would be gone before they knew it. She needed to step up and pull her own weight. She was sick of being the weak link in their partnership. “Hey, computer lady.”
“How may I be of assistance?
“Do you have study materials on Zulir culture?” If something as simple as a request to dance could hold so many clues, Lena needed to know everything. She hadn’t been purposefully avoiding learning, but she also hadn’t put her mind to it. Until now.
“I will prepare a study packet.”
She caught a smile on Solan’s face and knew it was for her a minute later, when he placed a plate heaping with food down in front of her. Lena ate gratefully for a while before speaking. “I’m sorry for messing up.” Her screwups had gotten them here; she wasn’t going to keep messing up and get them fired.
She wasn’t the only one with an apology on her lips. “I’m sorry for expecting you to understand intricacies of a brand new culture. And for not listening to you on the first mission.”
They might have been fated