A few evenings later, Sheba was going through a pile of case files at the reception desk when the thrum of a landing vessel cut through the late-hour quiet.
The clinic was settling into its night rhythm, serenaded by the murmur of generators and the muted chattering of birds and insects in the trees surrounding the complex.
The night crew moved through the wards in soft voices, tending to patients and handing out meal trays.
Sheba glanced toward the entrance, her stomach dropping as a sleek flyer settled on the dock and Ty Si’Rhix emerged out of it alone.
‘Fokk,’ she muttered.
The rest of the team was nowhere close to her to call out to.
Worse, the senior doctor on duty, Linh, was resting in a sleep pod after a day spent elbow-deep in surgery.
Why me?Sheba thought as Ty’s footsteps sounded on the ramp.
‘Hello,’ he called out as he marched through the sliding doors.
With a weary exhale, she answered, bracing herself. ‘Come in, we’re open.’
Ty’s presence shattered the fragile calm the moment he crossed the threshold.
The space filled with his expensive cologne and unchecked entitlement, as he strutted toward her with a grin.
‘Ah, just the woman I intended to find; it appears we have matters to discuss,’ he intoned. His fingers smoothed his silk cuffs with a calculated precision, his inflection engineered to project a hollow affability.
He came to a stop before her, his greedy, glittering eyes raking her from head to toe. She hoped all he saw was a tired, weary nurse with zerofokksto give.
‘Is that right?’ Sheba countered, her voice clipping the end of his sentence.
‘A little bird told me you were on duty tonight, so I thought I’d pay a visit.’
She suspected the grizzled miner in bed 21 A, with a broken tibia, and also one of Ty’s lackeys, as the informant.
‘What might you and I have to discuss?’ she muttered with wariness.
‘It’s a matter I’ve already broached the subject with your superiors, Dr. Brad and Dr. Linh, but they’ve proved remarkably reticent, hidebound by a lack of vision.’
He paced the cramped reception area with a proprietary arrogance, as if the very floorboards belonged to him.
‘I’ve observed that even in your brief tenure here in Lattaya, you possess a unique pull with both the residents and the hospital administration. People listen when you speak, Munene.’
Sheba crossed her arms over her chest, a defensive barrier, as she nailed him with a skeptical, unwavering stare.
‘Quit the posturing and spit it out.’
He offered a thin smile and shook his head with the rhythmic, hypnotic grace of a serpent coiled to strike.
‘You’re a fresh arrival to this sector, untainted by the toxic myths and nonsense the locals repeat about my operations. I run a legitimate enterprise that provides jobs and enriches communities. My request is simple: please convince your colleagues to relocate this clinic to the lower ridge, further west, where the ground is more secure, and the logistical access is superior. They’ll be well compensated for the inconvenience.’
‘Why the hell do you think I’d have any pull with them?’
He paused, leaning against her desk, his eyes glinting with a dangerous intelligence.
‘I am well aware of your lineage, Sheba, that you’re part of the infamous Rider family through your sister’s marriage with Kainan Sable. Given that the Riders fund this clinic, your word carries a certain gravity the doctors cannot match.’
His mouth curved into a smirk. ‘Secure this move for me, and I’ll ensure your cooperation is rewarded with extreme generosity.’
‘Nada,’ Sheba interrupted, annoyed. ‘I’m not interested.’
