Chapter 20 Protocol and Power
PROTOCOL AND POWER, EVE
The reception desk gleams with an iridescence that still unsettles me after five hours. The material—some alien composite—seems alive under my fingertips, warm and responsive to touch.
“The hierarchy is crucial to understand,” Lira says, her green eyes intense as she guides me through the complex web of galactic social structures displayed on the holographic terminal.
“The Imperials consider themselves the pinnacle of civilization, followed by the Ancient Worlds like Lyra. Reima Two citizens rank third tier, which is still quite prestigious, but different. Our civilization is newer, and our rank comes through economics rather than a long history.”
I nod, trying to absorb the intricate caste system that governs interactions between species. “And humans?”
“Earth is considered a developing world with limited interstellar contact and restricted technology access.”
“That's not what I asked.”
“Technically, humans are classified as sentient, but in practice...” She taps the display, bringing up a different screen. “There are distinctions. Employees like yourself are recognized as fully sentient beings at Level Four with legal protections. You have rights, contracts, and compensation.”
“And the others?” I think of the man who silently mouthed “help” as he was paraded in the lobby at the Sapien Spectacle.
“Companions have a different classification. Their status is more complex.”
“You mean they're considered property.”
“The IGC has conflicting laws about humanity, and legal contradictions create grey areas.”
“It's slavery,” I say.
“It's more complicated than that,” Lira counters. “And you are here because the Sovereigns believe humans are equal.”
“How can they when they host events like the Sapien Spectacle?”
“Because they can’t change society overnight. But they quietly have been the forerunners of change in their actions.”
I give her a look of disbelief.
“Not only do they hire humans for work in the galaxy, but they openly hire women like me. You know, most companies would only allow women to work on-planet, which is limiting. It’s tradition.
The galaxy is a matriarchy run galactically by patriarchal men, and most people are ready for a change.
So, when the Sovereigns approached me to work here, I was surprised, but also encouraged and excited by the opportunity.
Trust me, Eve, the galaxy is changing. It may not look like it on the surface, but slowly it is. ”
I don’t know what to say because I don’t know enough about the situation of women working off-planet and galactic politics.
When I don’t reply, Lira says, “These are complicated issues, and the conversation requires more time than we have now. If you don’t mind, let’s discuss it in depth later.”
“Thank you.”
She gives me a nod. “Now, back to your training. Imperials always receive full protocol. Bow from the waist, eyes lowered, and use formal titles. Never initiate conversation. Reima Two citizens, like myself, require a head incline and formal address, but eye contact is permitted after the initial greeting.”
“And the Sovereigns?”
“The Sovereign Directors are special cases.
Though they're naturalized Reima Two citizens, they were born Imperial.
They've maintained many Imperial customs while adapting to our culture.” Her voice softens with something approaching reverence.
“It's part of why they're so fascinating to both Reima Two citizens and Imperials.”
“What do you mean?”
Lira looks around and then says quietly, “The Imperial twin tradition, that they often share the same woman as a lover, and when they marry they will only marry one woman.”
“Interesting,” I say, wondering if that borders on incest or if it’s okay because the men are rich and handsome.
“It’s not a tradition we hold on Reima Two, but still, they have been engaged a few times to some high-profile women.”
“But?” I ask, enjoying the gossip.
“The women have always broken it off for mysterious reasons.”
“Incest?” I can’t help but ask.
She gives me a funny look. “No, they’re men, so it can’t be incest because they could never produce children. Most people assume it’s because of Sovereign Lorian. His time with the Umbral Cohort changed him. It’s rumored his sexual appetites don't align with traditional Reima Two values.”
Before I can ask for clarification, the reception desk gives us a discrete notification. An approaching guest.
Lira straightens, her demeanor shifting instantly to professional deference. “Imperial approaching. Follow my lead.”
A tall, grey-skinned man strides toward us. His clothing shimmers with embedded technology, and his black hair is cut short in what must be merchant-class style.
Lira bows deeply, and I mimic the gesture just half a second behind her.
“Archon Val, the Celestial Spire is honored by your presence. How may we serve you?”
The Imperial's gaze slides past Lira, focusing entirely on me as I straighten.
“A new acquisition?” he asks, addressing Lira while continuing to stare at me. “I wasn't aware the Spire was importing fresh stock from Earth.”
Heat rises to my cheeks.
“As you can see, her ID reads receptionist and human liaison,” Lira explains. “Eve was transferred from our Terra Sanctum property on Earth.”
“Fascinating.” He steps closer to me. “I haven't encountered a human fresh from Earth in years.”
Without warning, he extends a spindly grey hand and touches my hair, lifting a strand as if examining fabric. I remain frozen, unsure how to respond to what feels like a violation.
“Extraordinarily rich brown color. The only species in the galaxy with natural brown hair,” he comments. “Genuine?”
Lira intervenes, removing his hand from me. “Archon Val, I should note that Madame Eve is a protected member of staff under the Sovereigns' personal authority. They've requested that all interactions remain professional.”
The Imperial's black eyebrows rise slightly.
“The Sovereigns' personal project? How intriguing.” He smiles, revealing teeth too perfect to be natural.
“My apologies for the familiarity. One becomes accustomed to certain liberties with human entertainment.
I take it she won't be available for guest services?”
“Not our receptionist, no,” Lira replies without missing a beat.
“Pity. May I request her likeness to be programmed into the entertainment systems? It's torture to have such an appealing human female at the front desk without carnal access.”
His casual dehumanization steals my breath away. My first instinct is to slap him, but what would that accomplish? It might only reinforce his view that humans aren’t meant to be treated as equals, and it would definitely earn me a public punishment.
“Unfortunately, no. You are welcome to bring your disappointment to management.”
“I will.” He looks me up and down one last time, then turns back to Lira. “I require information about the Lyran delegation's arrival. My suite should be adjacent to theirs.”
“Yes. Of course,” Lira says. “Let me arrange that for you.”
When he finally leaves the reception desk, Lira turns to me with concern. “Eve, I’m so sorry that happened. I had no idea he was going to touch you. Are you all right?”
“He touched me like I was communal property.”
“That's why I mentioned your protected status.
As the Sovereigns' personal hire, you have special considerations. No one, not even an Imperial, can interfere with their property.” She winces at her own phrasing.
“I mean, their staff. But technically we are all theirs, you know, as long as we work here.”
The slip is telling. Even Lira, who seems genuinely kind, views the distinction between staff and property as semantics rather than fundamental rights.
“Did this happen to Denise?” I ask, thinking about her being abducted.
“Sometimes, but there’s a difference between the two of you.”
“What’s that?”
Lira looks at me in disbelief. “Don’t you know?”
“Know what?”
“You’re considered to be one star in a galaxy.”
“I’ve heard people say that, but I don’t know what it means.”
“You’re very pleasing to the eye, both in form and coloring.
And because of that, some men will continue to purposely confuse your status.
But if this keeps happening, I will help you talk to someone from the Starlight Array, and they can issue you a Consent Band—a simple silver bracelet keyed to your ID necklace.
Then, if anyone lays a hand on you without your approval, they will receive a sharp neural sting. ”
Her green eyes soften when I don’t answer right away. “It’s discreet and looks like jewelry. No one will think less of you for wearing it. And the Spire’s systems would record every activation, so if someone ignores your boundaries, it will be logged and Sovereign Rafe would see it immediately.”
“Am I going to be in trouble?” I wonder if I’m going to be blamed for guests touching me.
“No, of course not. I meant that the Sovereign will be upset that someone touched you despite the precautions he’s already taken.”
“I need a moment,” I say, steadier than I feel.
Lira nods sympathetically. “Take as long as you need.”
I leave my post to catch my breath in the ladies’ room.
Inside the pristine solitude of the staff restroom, I splash cold water on my face and stare at my reflection. The woman looking back at me seems both familiar and foreign. Still me, but in an alien uniform and in an alien hotel.
What do I look like to them?
I imagine the cutest kitten I’d ever seen and try to imagine how I would treat that animal.
I would touch it without thinking twice.
And I’d assume it wanted my attention unless it scratched me.
But even then, I might have trouble taking the kitten seriously because of its cuteness on the blind premise that something so cute must want to be adored.
I splash more cold water on my face.
I am not an adorable kitten.
Perhaps I need claws, though.