Ogreness, Black Lake-book5

Chapter 29
~

Zug grimaced. I wasn’t intimidated. That’s almost a troll’s relaxed look. “Ya surprised me with that side trip.”

“I’ll try not to surprise ya again today,” I said.

“Heard ya got in a kerfuffle. They shouldn’t have stopped for a bite.”

“I came here to learn what’s going on. I’ve learned a thing or two. And I was really hungry. Besides, it wasn’t more than a little shoutin’.”

“Thrown rocks. A Mr. Pibb bottle.”

“Root beer. But I have good reflexes.”

“Ya gonna pay to have their unit fixed.”

“No.”

“That’s rude,” Zug mumbled.

“I thought I was yar guest. Can I sit, or don’t ya have that custom up here?” I pulled off the Kevlar vest as I spoke and laid it over the back of the near chair.

He waved me to a side chair. I pulled it away from his desk where I could face him and took the load off. “So. Still haven’t put in yar resignation?”

He glared.

I really wanted to unload with a lot of my frustration. Five, six generations these dingbats have been up here, and they’d allowed themselves to become second, third-class citizens.

“So, go ahead,” he said. “Tell me how we’ve messed things up.”

He prolly blamed himself, anticipated every slight I could ever dream up. I should take the high road. “I’m more interested in how we’re gonna improve the situation. I really don’t want all ya eggheads movin’ South. Got enough eggheads already.”

He glared a moment longer. “Did ya really pop open that bottle and drink it down?”

“Most of it fizzed off into the faces of the dinkleberries shoutin’ at us.”

“Hope they caught that for the newsbreak,” Zug mumbled.

“I can’t fathom any fast fixes,” I said to move the conversation forward. “Ya see any low-hangin’ fruit?”

“A few,” he drawled. “Let them kill ya, make a martyr of ya.”

“I don’t so much like that angle.”

“No?” he said.

“Ya gonna have some suggestions for the committee tomorrow, or are ya gonna shock ’em with yar ignernce.”

“The latter works,” he said.

We talked a couple hours. The whole time he tapped his desktop with a long fingernail. He prolly didn’t have anything better to do. When he studied his desk takin’ a long breath, appearin’ to be out of words, I asked him if he could get me in to talk to his counterpart.

“Yar people couldn’t set anything up?”

“Her people said she was busy.”

“Prolly true,” Zug said, standin’. “We’ll walk.”

Considering the segregation of the departments, I doubted he’d walk me down the hall. And he didn’t. We strode down three flights of stairs, down a mile-long corridor which had to be under the street.

We arose into a building with distinctly different architecture and ambiance. They hadn’t emptied their coffers on the troll side of the street. But then, trolls like bare concrete. Granite even better.

The human’s we passed gave us a hard eye, and plenty of room to stroll past them. I didn’t miss that the officers we passed didn’t give Zug that respectful look one would, should, to a superior. It was subtle, but palpable. There’s so much wrong up here.

Through a couple halls, into an alcove, Zug knocked twice on an unmarked, unadorned, solid wood door, and strode in. Three uniformed gents with fruit on their collars, not chevrons on their sleeves, standin’ before a desk about twice the size as Zug’s, jerked in shock.

The navy-blue-suit-adorned blonde behind the desk waved at them quickly to relax. “Give us a few minutes,” she said.

The three straggled out, eyes whiskin’ back and forth from me and Zug. After the door closed, Zug introduced me to the female human, who never stood, or even extended her hand, which pissed me off so much the rumble in my chest moved Zug to place his hand on my shoulder.

Zug answered the female’s odd look.

“Home, one as yarself would show respect to a Range councilor by standing, introducing yarself.”

Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t stand. I wanted to smack her rose-hued lipstick off her face.

“All I’ve seen since landin’,” I started, “is nothing but racist bigots. Wasn’t like this when I lived here twenty years ago.”

“You calling me a racist?” the female shouted.

Zug dropped his chin to his chest. His dreadlocks swayed into his face. Under his breath he whispered, “Not the best opening.”

I turned and exited the office, out the front door, not the servant’s door. The bevy of humans waitin’ in the outer office jolted erect. I didn’t plunge past them. I held each pair of eyes for a moment. Then plunged past them.

In the broad, marble-tiled corridor I found myself in, I was turned around good. Had no idea how to get back to where we came, so I just strolled. Got a lot of odd looks. Reminded me suits and ties and dresses to the knee are back in vogue, here about. I don’t care. I like my cargo shorts and OW polo top.

I pressed L in the elevator, hopin’ that meant lobby. I guessed right—it did follow the digit two. The lift opened off an atrium suitable for a capitol building. I meandered between the white columns and granite of the rotunda, takin’ in the art and sculptures adornin’ the space.

Didn’t take me long to notice a theme. Trolls moved North a long time ago, before the humans switched from gas lights and buggies to electric and single-cylinder propelled autos.

The minin’ that the trolls performed pumped riches into the society, energized Northern industry. Yet there wasn’t a hint of troll culture in the historic paintings.

Why hadn’t I noticed this discrepancy in my college years? Or, is this new? I couldn’t have missed this prejudice. I wandered about in my youth, not keepin’ myself to campus where ogres were almost celebrities. I’ve made plenty of business trips since.

A rage broiled in my chest with every new step. I reached the end of the balustrade and a hubbub at the entrance struck me. Voices were raised. Officers mustered against some force. Great. Another riot. Right here at the grand offices of the police.

An officer jogged toward me. “Sir. I have to ask you to follow me.”

“Why?”

He came to a stop, arms wavin’, as though that would hurry me in the direction I came.

“Uh, be better if, uh—”

I made out the banners of the news networks adornin’ vans convergin’ outside, cameras being readied, talkin’ heads lookin’ about.

“All. The networks,” I said.

“Please—”

“Touch me and I’ll throw ya through that glass,” I hissed.

He froze.

“They heard the evil ogre is around, huh?” I mumbled, not really to the officer.

Three other uniformed cops strode toward me. I met them halfway. Hands lowered to the guns on their hips. I was in some strange, alien universe. I passed them, chest vibratin’, a growl extinguishin’ their shouts to turn around.

The warm fall air outside drew a hint of sweat on my brow, but a breeze drawin’ across the broad steps leadin’ to the street below felt good. The humans waitin’ on the walk, turned, every pair of eyes locked on me, surreal, as though I’m from another stinkin’ planet.

Talkin’ heads pulled cables with them as they approached. Questions filled the air. I stopped in front of them. Raised by the steps, they hung below me, twenty feet, left me hangin’ in the air feelin’ a little majestic. Microphones pointed at me.

I raised my paw and growled, very much a battle threat, to interrupt the bellowed questions. The humans shrank back. Maybe I needed some mouth wash.

“I’ve only been here four hours,” I said, “and have seen enough bigotry to make me hurry home. I attended university here. It wasn’t like this then.

“Sickened by what I’ve seen,” I continued, “I will be makin’ the recommendation to our industry leaders to divest from the North, bring jobs back home where they will be appreciated.

“We may lose a significant footprint here, but we have international markets that will keep us healthy.

“With open arms, we’ll take in the giants ya persecute. Clearly ya don’t want them here. We’d love to have them back. Hope yar industry can do without our capital.”

I was gonna really get ticked if I kept talkin’, so I stopped there and headed south, I think. Not really sure if I’d find my way back to Zug’s office that way, but it was a perfect day for a wander anyway.

My phone rang. I must have been on live camera. I pulled my cell out. Didn’t expect him so soon. I answered with a, hey.

“Ya’re a freakin’ moron.”

“Take after ya, don’t I, Papa?”

“I will skin the skin right off yar skin.” He may have been ticked. Plus, he spoke Ogreish.

I looked down. He’d disconnected, but it was tollin’ again.

“He didn’t really mean that,” Mama said.

In the background I heard Papa scream, “Yes I did.” In Ogreish.

There was a murmur, hands shovelin’ over Mama’s phone, and a moment later my cell was ringin’ again.

“Really? Really?” Doke hissed.

I waited.

“I’m not decided if ya’re a complete nincompoop, but I’m certain ya’re no savant. I’m so rattled I can’t even talk.”

I expected him to hang up. He pretty much said he was done, right, but the clicker kept clickin’ on the face of my phone. So I waited to see if he wanted to continue.

“I always hated flyin’ up North,” Doke said.

Really? But didn’t he know I was bluffin’? I had to be bluffin’. Right? I mean, liquidatin’ and—maybe it wasn’t so crazy. Our durable industries are primarily centered in the West and Wildes, some even offshore. Our service industries are split, everywhere. Half of my developers, the better ones, sit in their home hollers in the Range.

Not hard to put together a new server farm. Racks are cheap enough. Takes six months to set up a geo-source to power a medium-sized facility.

Wow. My rage was startin’ to make more sense.

My phone was ringin’ again. I guess Doke had said all he needed to say.

“Where are ya?” Zug asked

I looked for a street sign. Told him to hang on while I made it to a corner.

“Ya’re outside?” he shrieked. If a deep-baritone can shriek. “It isn’t safe for ya outside.”

I looked around. There wasn’t much of anyone around, considerin’ all the tall buildings surroundin’ me. The few strollin’ the sidewalks weren’t payin’ any attention to me. Mostly lookin’ down at their phones.

“Come back. The chief will talk to ya.”

“I don’t have anything to say to her,” I said.

“What?”

“Ya haven’t seen a newsbreak in the last fifteen minutes?” I asked.

“I’ve been with the—” I could hear a hubba, hubba in the background.

I waited.

“Ya called them racists on live TV?” Zug asked.

Did I? It was a little fuzzy. I was a little ticked off. A taxi neared and I gave it a wave. “Can ya do me a favor and get my bag shuttled to the airport?”

“Don’t be stupid, ogre,” Zug growled.

I struggled to fold into the human-sized cab. “Ya folk have let this steamroll into oblivion.”

“Knew it wouldn’t take long for ya to blame this on me.”

I told the cabbie where I wanted to go. “Don’t get yar panties in a tug, troll. Nothin’ personal. This didn’t happen overnight. It’s multi-generational. Highlighted by bad economics.”

“I was told ya weren’t that tactful.”

I laughed, and checked the phone. Yep. He’d hung up.

~ Nuel ~

I’ve never, to be completely honest, been that comfortable off on my own. I’ve pretty much been surrounded by people I know, all my life. So finding myself without an escort, even Laerid this afternoon, away from everything that is comfortable, made my skin vibrate. Not the comfortable kind.

The folk at the Inn’s front desk were kind enough to suggest a hike, and handed me a map of the trails within walking distance of the Inn.

I’m a city hen. I mean, I can walk from one subway station to another, but just walking to walk sounds weird. I guess that’s what Darshee and Wizper were doing that very minute. They seem to love it. I could try it, once. I purchased a bottle of water and a few snacks at the mercantile and headed out.

What a surprise. It was amazingly beautiful and peaceful. Not peaceful as in silent. Yeah, quiet compared to a Northern street. But the wind in the trees and the tall grass leaning across the trail, the constant caw of crows, and chatter of whatever critters live out there, pretty much kept me smiling.

It was marvelous. Why did I hate the hike with Silva so much?

It wasn’t so grand when Ike came to mind. But the beauty turned my emotion. I was only half ticked at him. The bull’s green eyes came to mind often.

~