There was no reason for her to be looking for a job, even this far from PTA space.There was no reason for her to be looking for a job, even this far from PTA space. He would have offered her high passage rooms with a single flash from a Pendor-rated bankcard. "Miss Satpulov, could you come to my ship, say, ten this morning?" The Mephit blinked and said, "Ten's fine. I'll be there bright and early." "Goodnight," David said. Patricia whistled low as she looked over the record David had called up on the terminal for her. "She's good," she said. "What's she asking for a salary?" David pinched the bridge of his muzzle and closed his eyes. "Work passage." "You're kidding," Patricia said, glancing over at him. She recognized that gesture-- David was getting another headache. "She could command six figures on a real starliner. What's she doing out here?" "That's why I want you here when she shows. Tell me she's as good as she says." The door chimed, and David said "Come." It opened and the Mephit David had seen the night before walked in. She was about 180 cm tall, gently overweight, with luxurious black fur and a short muzzle. Her ears were quite large for a Mephit-- David knew that was a trait of a sub-species of Mephit, a racial trait, but he didn't know the name for it. |