(no subject)
Nearly lunchtime. She smiles, settling in behind her desk for the take-out from Al's Slow Food that's set up neatly in front of her. Thank the Code for her delivery service having thrived and expanded during the recent influx of residents to Mainframe; there'll be a grocery order waiting for her at home tonight so she can take the time to cook a full meal for Bob and Mairi, after picking them up after this interview.
There's a buzz from her intercom.
"Yes, Otora?"
"Secured link from the Guardian Collective, sir-ma'am. Should I accept or cancel?"
"Accept; it's my usual minutely call from the Prime Guardian."
Dot sighs and sits back in her chair, watching the vidwindow with a neutral expression, with only the required touch of disdain this conversation would call for.
"Hello, Turbo."
There's a buzz from her intercom.
"Yes, Otora?"
"Secured link from the Guardian Collective, sir-ma'am. Should I accept or cancel?"
"Accept; it's my usual minutely call from the Prime Guardian."
Dot sighs and sits back in her chair, watching the vidwindow with a neutral expression, with only the required touch of disdain this conversation would call for.
"Hello, Turbo."