Dr. Alien by Rajnar Vajra

Author:Rajnar Vajra [Vajra, Rajnar]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WordFire Press

Gara’s office and the room Deal had commandeered were in separate corridors. Tsf can hustle when they want to, but Deal must’ve been feeling lazy this morning; she and I reached the reception area in a dead heat, just in time for us to get a glimpse of Tad’s back vanishing into the third corridor. But even without Tad, we had plenty of company.

A tall, heavyset man in a business suit that was the opposite of off-the-rack stood a respectful distance from L’s desk. A large leather briefcase dangled from his left hand. I’d never seen him before, but his two outriggers were my uniformed guardians Phillips and Braun. They didn’t look joyous.

Paying no attention to the aliens in the room, a trick tantamount to ignoring the proverbial elephant, the man turned toward me with a kind of slow pomp, his posture and the set of his face declaring a vast self-importance. “Doctor Morganson? My name is Skyler Penwarden Jr. I am an attorney representing an association of your neighbors.” Staring at me with blue eyes obviously trying to be steely, he deigned to hold out a hand for a shake. His palm was so dry that he probably sprayed it with antiperspirant. I made a mental note to disinfect my own paw afterward. “May I DM you my business card?” he added.

“Why not?” I sub-vocally gave my DM permission to add his card to the stack but to accept no other transmissions from him. “How can I help you, Mr. Penwarden?”

He released my hand, opened his briefcase, and pulled out a ream of paper. “At the behest of my clients, I am prepared to initiate a civil suit against you. The particulars are contained in this brief, and I’d advise you to familiarize yourself with it immediately. After you do so, I would be willing to sit down with you, or with you and your attorney if you’d prefer, to discuss the possibility of settling this matter out of court.”

Had I ever heard anyone else use the word “behest” in real life? The lawyer handed over the so-called brief, and I gave him my finest sardonic look. “I assume this is Bradley S. Pearson’s doing?”

“He is one of the principals.”

“Uh-huh. Listen to me, Mr. Penwarden. As I keep telling Bradley, this sort of harassment doesn’t work. Washington, not to mention the entire UN, can’t afford to let this clinic close.”

The man’s lips insulted the entire concept of smiling. “Our litigation is not targeted at closing your clinic. Our purpose is to simply ensure that you will not profit financially from its operation. I see no reason why the authorities should object. Please study the brief then contact my office. You have my card.”

“You’re wasting your time and mine. This is my work, and I’ll keep at it even if it doesn’t pay me a dime. At this point, I don’t need the money.” That was almost true; with a certain degree of penny pinching, I could’ve retired at that minute thanks to my bloated monthly salary.

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