35

Oliver Bowen

May 24, 2045. Sydney, Australia.

“Why am I doing this?” Oliver said to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He’d been waiting in the bathroom for two hours; for all he knew, he could be waiting another four. He had no idea when the rooms were cleaned; all he knew was they were, and he could not picture a defender making a bed with those stiff-clawed hands, so it had to be cleaned by a Luyten.

It could prove extremely advantageous if Oliver was able to contact Five. Beyond that, he wanted to speak to Five for personal reasons. He felt as if they had unfinished business, things that needed to be said.

The door opened in the other room. Oliver heard the muffled thud of something large walking on the carpeted floor. He took a couple of deep breaths, still looking at his reflection in the mirror, then turned toward the room.

The plum-colored Luyten gave no indication it noticed Oliver; it collected the damp towels he’d left folded on the dresser and headed toward the trash can.

“You know I’ve been waiting for you,” Oliver said aloud, but softly. “Do you know where I can find him?”

The Luyten straightened, walked toward Oliver, then turned sideways to slip past him. It disappeared into the bathroom.

“Can you at least let him know I’d like to speak to him?” Oliver asked.

There was no response.

Oliver went to the bathroom door. The Luyten was cleaning the bathtub. “This is ridiculous. I know you understand me. I know you can answer if you want to.” He turned his palms up. “Can you at least show me the courtesy of answering, even if your answer is ‘no’?”

The Luyten went on scrubbing, as if Oliver weren’t there. Maybe this was the Luyten’s way of expressing their rage at the human race for signing a treaty and almost immediately breaking it. Oliver had to admit, it was well deserved. “I was against breaking that treaty, though,” he said to the Luyten. “I’d like to speak to Five for personal reasons, beyond my role as an emissary.”

The Luyten looked into the toilet, evidently judged it clean enough, and stepped toward the doorway.

Oliver stood his ground, blocking its path. “Say something. Lay out my deepest fears and insecurities. Tell me to fuck off and die. Say something.”

It waited, perfectly still.

Oliver stepped aside.

The Luyten brushed past, collected its supplies, and closed the door behind it.