Business Proposal [Reinald]

Try as he might—although he’d be the first to admit that he hadn’t put a great deal of effort into trying—Reinald could not understand why OverTech’s executives had decided to locate the bulk of their offices underground. They could bedeck the tunnels in their marble walls, mahogany panels, and plush carpets as much as they wanted, but the fancy décor failed to change the fact that it was possible for someone unfortunate enough to work there to go through an entire day without once seeing the light of day. As was the case with any big, influential corporation, OverTech had its critics and haters among the public, but it was almost too easy for them to portray OverTech as the spawn of evil when its officials crawled out of a hole in the ground at the end of each day.

Reinald understandably spent as little time as possible in his office, but there always came a point when he could no longer ignore the ever-present stack of paperwork on his desk. Always one to get things done on time, he would every once in a while resign himself to the dreaded task and spend a couple hours hunched over his desk filling the damn things out. With the technology and inventions the humans had these days, one would think they’d have found a less drudging substitute for paperwork. Electronic paperwork did not count; it was no less tedious, nor was it less mind-numbingly boring than its physical equivalent.

The bright spring scenery projecting from the electronic ‘windows’ weren’t quite convincing enough to make him forget he was underground. Impressive, yes, but his senses refused to be fooled. His brain insisted that unless he could open it, stick his hand outside, and feel a breeze roll in, it was not a window. The virtual world on the screen appealed only to his eyes, while the rest of his body disagreed. One could call it a shifter’s connection with nature. Some shifters thought it made them superior to the humans. Reinald thought it was inconvenient.

So on days like these, Reinald wasn’t exactly in the best of moods when he left. And when he wasn’t in the best of moods, he tended to arrive at one particular conclusion: he needed some booze.

After bidding the gate guards a polite but succinct farewell, he headed for the Moon Pillar. Despite the lingering industrial scents of gasoline and ship exhaust, the tang of the evening air was especially refreshing after the hours spent underground. Still not refreshing enough to curb the desire for a few strong shots of brandy. The bar on the observation deck was well-stocked and well-tended, if overpriced—but the Moon Pillar was a tourist location, after all. Everything from the pay-per-view binoculars to the cheap little plastic souvenirs was overpriced. The ride to the top was free, but OverTech’s generosity only went so far.

The charm of the glass-walled elevator ride had long since worn off. While the rest of the spectators crowded around the glass, staring wide-eyed as the ground fell away beneath them, Reinald leaned against the inner wall, hands in his pockets, looking not the slightest bit impressed. It did feel nice to be high up again, though this could be considered overkill. His first and second forms spent their time in trees, not several miles up in the open air. If he wanted to appease his shifter instincts, he would be better off climbing a small office building or two.

The bartender greeted him cheerfully and had his drink ready in a matter of seconds. Taking a swig from the glass, Reinald noted that business was slow as usual at this time. Not just the bar, either—few people came up to the observation deck in the early evening. Most people had just gotten off from work, the tour guides were taking a break, and the school field trips were only during the mornings and afternoons. For the last Reinald was thankful—he wanted to be able to enjoy his drink in relative peace.

The seat he’d chosen was located just so that he had a clear view of Keis, as long as he ignored the people walking back and forth across his line of sight. Easier said than done; although business at this time was considered slow, it was so only relative to the ruckus of peak hours. There was a time when he would have found this place stiflingly packed, but these crowds had turned into a mere annoyance by now. He’d gotten used to it, just as he had gotten used to unfathomable technologies, and to the transformation of their capitol city. He’d even grown accustomed to living as a human. All it’d taken was some time, and the memories of how things used to be—before the humans had all but destroyed whatever character the city had and built their own on top of it—became inconsequential.

He drained half of his glass in one go, enjoying the familiar burn of alcohol on his throat. Hah. He should listen to himself, sounding like a sentimental old man. Granted, the ‘old’ bit was slowly coming true, or already true, depending on whom one asked. Nostalgia wasn’t going to get him anywhere, except perhaps stuck in the past. He hadn’t gotten as far as he had by dwelling on what he couldn’t change. His eyes scanned the line of the horizon for a few minutes, but Reinald found his gaze returning to Keis. The city had had its lights and its skyscrapers long before the Star Searcher touched down on Cambrian soil, but it paled in comparison to the structures the humans were capable of erecting. Their lofty metal and glass towers, illuminated by millions of lights, were visible from where he sat hundreds of miles away, in another one of their incredible feats of architecture.

Someone else took one of the many empty seats at the bar, momentarily distracting him from his musings. What was supposed to have been a cursory glance at the woman turned into one of mild interest. She was about his age, hair tied back, dressed in a well-cut jacket and a collared shirt—but that wouldn’t have been enough to catch his attention. The broken nose didn’t sit at all with the image of a proper businesswoman, nor did the way the woman knocked back her drink in one shot. He was stereotyping, of course, but that sort of woman looked more like she belonged in a military uniform than in a business suit. He certainly wasn’t the only one who thought that.

But open staring was not only considered rude, it was too transparent for his liking. Reinald returned his gaze to the landscape while continuing to watch the woman out of the corner of his eye. If anything, her arrival was a welcome distraction from his wandering thoughts.