She was damned if she did, damned if she didn’t, and twice damned if she did nothing at all.
Her hesitant assistant appeared in the open doorway. “Uh, how did it go, Administrator?”
“Wonderfully well,” she replied without a trace of sarcasm. She noted the hard copy he held in one hand. “What have you got for me now, Sanuel?”
He approached and passed it over. “Didn’t know when you might get to your messages. This one I thought you ought to see right away. Copied it out to make sure I didn’t forget about it.” He made a soft clucking sound. “Bad news, I’m afraid.”
At least that’s settled, she decided. She was damned. It took only a moment to peruse the missive. Sitting back in her chair, she rolled her eyes at the ceiling. Outside, a heavy shower was pounding the overhang and the porch. It did not distract her. After about a month on Fluva, one hardly noticed the perpetual drumming sound anymore.
“There’s no time stamp on this. When did it come in?”
Pandusky looked apologetic. “Right after you left to go to the port. I heard about what happened there.”
She scanned the note a second time, hoping that by subjecting it to her vision the content might somehow transmogrify into something less aggravating. It did not. Her gaze shifted to the window. It was raining hard enough now to obscure the view of the nearest trees.
“This Hasa person has become a real headache. I’m afraid I may lose my temper when I finally meet him.”
“If you get to meet him.” Like his boss, Pandusky’s attention was focused on the deluge outside. “He’s been gone a long time without contact.”