"See? Brilliant and obsessive." Jalina moved toward the door, then paused. "Thank you for giving me a chance. For not dismissing my ideas just because I'm human."
"I dismiss ideas when they're bad, not when they come from unexpected sources. Your ideas are good."
"High praise from someone who thinks in dimensions I can't perceive."
"Yet you still managed to improve my designs. Imagine what you'll accomplish once youcanperceive those dimensions."
Her smile transformed into something radiant again. "1300, Zor'go."
"1300, Jalina."
She left, and I watched her reflection in the transparent panels until she disappeared into the corridor.
Then I turned back to my holographic models, but they'd lost some of their clarity. The elegant efficiency I'd been so proud of this morning now looked sterile. Cold. Exactly as Jalina had described: storage units for beings rather than spaces for living.
I minimized the original designs and brought up the versions we'd created together, hers and mine, merged into something better than either could have produced alone.
Collaboration was supposed to be inefficient. Multiple perspectives meant competing visions, compromised solutions,endless negotiations. I'd always worked alone because alone meant control. Meant perfection without dilution.
But perhaps I'd been confusing perfection with isolation.
I pulled up the project timeline, calculating how much we could accomplish if this morning's productivity continued. Four months to complete a full habitat sector that would normally take eight. Ambitious. Possibly impossible.
Except Jalina saw spaces differently. Saw possibilities I couldn't perceive despite my multi-dimensional thinking. We might actually pull this off.
The door chimed. I looked up, expecting Jalina's return.
Instead, Kex'tar leaned against the doorframe, his expression knowing in a way that made me immediately suspicious.
"Working well with the little human architect?" he asked, too casually.
"Jalina is competent."
"Jalina," Kex'tar repeated, testing the name. "Not 'Architect Chauncy' anymore."
"She requested I use her given name. Professional courtesy."
"Of course. Professional." Kex'tar's amusement was infuriatingly obvious. "You spent three hours completely absorbed in work with her. Missed a command briefing. Agreed to daily 0600 meetings. All purely professional."
"What exactly are you implying?"
"Nothing. Just observing that you haven't collaborated with anyone since you joined Mothership four years ago. Yet after one morning with Jalina, you're restructuring your entire schedule around her contributions." He paused. "It's good to see. You've been isolated too long."
"I'm not isolated. I work with the entire Operations division."
"You give orders to the Operations division. There's a difference." Kex'tar pushed off from the doorframe. "Jalinachallenges you. Makes you think differently. That's valuable, Zor'go. Don't waste it by maintaining unnecessary distance."
He left before I could formulate a proper response.
I stood alone in my office, surrounded by holographic blueprints and the infinite darkness beyond the transparent panels, and tried to identify the emotion curling through my chest.
Anticipation, perhaps. For tomorrow's 0600 meeting. For the work we'd continue. For Jalina's next insight that would force me to reconsider everything I thought I knew about spatial design.
Yes. Anticipation. That was a professional emotion. Entirely appropriate.
The fact that I was already wondering what Jalina would sketch next, how her hands moved when she worked, whether her eyes always lit up like that when she had a good idea. Those were just relevant observations about my co-lead.
Nothing more.
