Katarina
IN A ROOM IN THE RESIDENTIAL part of the Research base, Major Katarina Doric sat at her desk writing the old-fashioned way: with a pen on a sheet of plasti-paper. It was very old-fashioned indeed. It had been years since she had written anything by hand, since most communication was electronic and much of it went through scans, voice recognition and thought sensors. Her handwriting was clumsy and reminded her of having to learn to write at school. Not in a good way.
But she needed to send this message.
This morning in the arrival hall with that oaf of a new guy, she’d done her best to hide her surprise: her husband was here.
What he was doing here and how he had managed to get into the delegation from the Council Of Four was a mystery. As far as she knew, he wasn’t interested
