You know, perhaps an unexpected trip up the mountain would’ve been preferable. “If it’s quite alright with you,” he pushes his chair out slowly, with both hands. “I think I could use that cup of tea. Would you…no? No, very well.” It didn’t hurt to ask again. Sometimes, a guest doesn’t think they’re thirsty, or hungry, until somebody else gets a snack. They see someone else eating, and all of a sudden they remember, yes, right, food tastes good. I’m a little hungry. I’d like a snack. You always ask, when you get something for yourself. Even if they said no just a little bit earlier. How much longer until the tea’s done? Three minutes, twenty-three seconds. Right. Right. 20022 hasn’t made a sound. No skin on skin of twiddling thumbs. No rustling papers and fidgeting with slides. No soft shifting in the seat as he adjusts a slackening posture. When he glances over, his guest is never looking his way. But he feels his attention resting on him. Catching the tremor in his arm as he lifts the infuser out of his cup. Noting the pause after he adds a dollop of honey, before he decides on an extra spoonful. But [i]just[/i] noting it. Taking note of a fact in front of him, rather than judging him for weakness. There’s a difference, to the feeling in the air. He’s learned. It will be at least five minutes until it is cool enough to drink, but it is soothing enough to hold in his hands as he sits back down. “I…did say that there was more that I had to learn. I didn’t expect,” he gestures to the pile of masterwork slides. “Quite so much. Hrm. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of working with the Crystal Knight, rather than keep this all under wraps?” He frowns. “No. No, there’s not, is there? All the reports she’s been getting from Mayor Kaspar have been, well, not favorable, but as close to running smoothly as can be expected. Asking for help means showing her everything. If you thought that all this secrecy was necessary to keep her from Decommissioning the planet, then, you don’t think she’s the sort of person who would accept the difficulties. She just wants results.” It’s too early for the tea to be properly cooled yet. But some thoughts demand tea, [i]now.[/i] “It would be different if we had a Sector Governor who was willing to listen, but…no, no that wouldn’t do either, would it? Whoever’s above her would just blame her for our troubles, fire her, and put in someone who won’t hesitate.” He takes a long, slow breath in through his nose. Then blows it out through his mouth, making little ripples in his teacup. He imagines Vasilia’s hand, running through his wool. He hears her voice, counting the beats of each breath. His vision narrows to a cup of tea, an emptied kitchen, and a Synnefo? A Synnefo sitting across from him. And at the edges of his sight, two windows. “I understand why you’d always be looking for more help.” He says at last. “But being a chef is all I’ve ever done. The positions have been a little different, but in the end it’s still cooking. Even traveling here, I never had time to learn anything else. I don’t mean to be blunt, but, what do you think a chef could do to help?”