Lienne cleared her throat.
The sound shattered her trance. Claire closed her mouth.
"You're Claire," the man said, his voice resonant, communicating strength as much as his body did.
"Yes?" she answered, reeling from the shock.
"My name is Venturo Escana," he said.
The Escana kinsman family, a distant part of her mind informed her. They owned Guardian, Inc., and Venturo Escana led the family. She was facing the god of this beautiful building.
"This is my aunt Lienne Escana; she is my second in command. Please sit down," he invited her to the couch.
She sat on autopilot, smoothing her skirt over her legs. She felt so out of place here, in this office. Venturo sat across from her. Lienne sat on the same couch as he, leaving several feet between them.
"You're a refugee," he said.
She couldn't sit there, mute, and simply stare. Claire forced herself to formulate words. "Yes."
"As I understand, our planet made an arrangement with your home world. We agreed to accept a certain number of refugees in return for the use of Uley's interstellar bases as refuel points. I understand your home world made these arrangements with a number of other planets."
"That's correct," she said. He was keeping his mind firmly away from hers. It was an exquisitely polite gesture. She had expected him to batter her the moment she entered the room.
"It must've been very difficult to leave your world."
He had no idea. "I've been very fortunate to arrive here."
"Do you like it here?" he asked with genuine interest.
"It's very beautiful," she said. "Very bright." Too bright. Too vivid. Too many smiles. Men that were... that were...
"We try to live life to its fullest," he said.
He didn't intend anything sexual by it, but inside her shields, his words triggered an image of him naked. It flashed before her, stunning in its shamelessness. She wanted to touch him.
I'm losing my mind.
"I suppose we have to begin the interview now," he said, almost apologetic. "It's important that you answer with complete honesty. Lienne and I are monitoring your thoughts. We will be able to detect a lie."
His mind touched hers, very gently. She held absolutely still, terrified that any of her runaway emotions would break out of her shields.
"Don't be nervous," he told her. "It will be fine, I promise."
She concentrated on the table in front of her, crushing her sexual impulses and painting calm over her emotions.
"What did you do on your home world?" he asked.
"I was a secretary at a munitions factory," she lied. "We manufactured parts for the long range coastal guns." It was her cover. When asked what she did outside of the Psych Corps, she was supposed to respond with this line.
"What made you decide to apply to become retainer of the Escana family?" he asked.
"It was recommended to me by the Immigration Service," she said, relieved to be honest. "As a condition of my deportation, I'm required to follow the employment recommendation." Even when it's cosmic irony.
"Your anxiety level is rising," Venturo said. "Why?"
Claire swallowed. Complete honesty. "I'm afraid."
"What scares you?" he asked.
"I'm afraid I will be deported if I fail the interview." It was the truth.
"As a refugee, you have five chances to obtain employment, before you will face the possibility of deportation," Lienne said, her voice crisp.
"It's not a completely rational fear," Claire said.
"Why did the Immigration Service recommended Guardian, Inc. as a prospective employer?" Venturo asked.
"I was tested and it was determined that I have no psychic ability whatsoever. The Immigration officer said that your company prefers to employ non-psychics for its support staff to lessen the telepathic interference. He said that I would make an excellent drone."
A shadow darkened Venturo's eyes. His mind shifted subtly, and she glimpsed the hint of steel will that drove it. All of his pleasant demeanor aside, Venturo Eskala would make a terrifying enemy.
"That's not a word we favor," he said.
"My apologies."
"Not your fault." Venturo held out his hand and Lienne put a tablet into his fingers. "What was it you say you did?"
He remembered perfectly well what she told him. She aligned her thoughts. "I was an administrative assistant. I answered phones..." She recalled answering a phone at a desk and projected it onto the surface of her mind.
"...I took messages..."
A memory of writing things down.
"...I prepared reports..."
Memory of sitting before a screen filling out a long form.
She had served as a secretary a week out of the year specifically to be able to recall these memories if questioned.
"You are an admin," Venturo said. "Your boss is out of touch. A customer calls. He is angry. There was a mistake in his bill. Your move."
"Ask the customer to tell me in detail about the problem, taking notes along the way. Assure the customer that I will do everything in my power to resolve the issue and promise to let him know as soon as the solution is found. Follow the company protocol to initiate an inquiry into the case."
"Why not just transfer him to Billing?" Venturo asked. "It's their mistake."
"Or wait for the return of your employer," Lienne said.
"An irate customer wants someone to listen to him," Claire said. "If his grievances are heard, the conflict is defused. Once I transfer him to Billing, I lose control of the situation. I have no way of knowing how Billing will treat him. And while I will inform my employer of the situation, if the situation can be resolved without his direct involvement, why not resolve it?"
Venturo and Lienne shared a look.
"Your employer's wife enters your office, demanding to see him. She is visibly angry," Lienne said. "Your employer is in a meeting."
"Request security assistance via silent alarm. Ascertain that no life-threatening emergency is in progress and attempt to defuse the situation. If the spouse proves uncooperative, let security escort her out."
"But she is your employer's wife," Lienne said.
"My job is to make sure my employer can function at a maximum capacity. The presence of his angry wife would hinder the operation of the company."
"So you automatically assume the worst and push the alarm?" Venturo asked.
She had a feeling she wasn't giving them the answer they were looking for. "I must anticipate what an angry spouse could do rather than what she is likely to do. She may be simply angry, or she might have a weapon in her purse. If I can convince the spouse to leave the premises peacefully, the security would have wasted a few minutes of their time. But if the spouse becomes unreasonable or violent, and I fail to anticipate it, people might become injured."
"An employee calls you in a panic to tell you there is a fire on the floor below," Venturo said.
"Alert authorities and initiate immediate evacuation," Claire said.
Venturo frowned.
She scrutinized her answer, wishing she could touch his mind and try to figure out what she had done wrong. It was the obvious answer. She could think of no alternative.
Venturo leaned back, frowning. A focused thought dashed from him toward Lienne, and Claire caught it. His mind was like the beam of a lighthouse.
"Opinion?"
"She would make a terrible admin," Lienne answered. "Her thought patterns are consistent with that of an executive. She accepts personal responsibility for every issue. Her answers to the questionnaire demonstrate the same thing."
Inwardly Claire clenched. She'd stumbled. The military conditioning finally betrayed her.
"You're looking at the product of a seventy-year war," Venturo's mind said. "She evaluates her environment for threats and defuses them. It's a useful quality."