Daystar

13| Keystone

Tianshi Chen, Indian Ocean
09:56 Hours
June 4, 2056
27ºC

Kara's breath was sucked from her lungs. She had seen Simon de Ven's face on television and plastered on the covers of several magazines, but in person... With dark, unkempt hair and a well-sculpted beard, Kara immediately thought of the water athletes back in California, the ones who would surf and wakeboard every hour of the day.

But from the moment he stepped in the room, it was very obvious that Simon de Ven was not some insouciant surfboarder. The man radiated authority. Kara felt inclined to follow this man, to hang on to every word he said. And yet, there was something soft, subdued about his presence.

De Ven stepped down to the base of the staircase, his drink eloquently balanced in his hand. Kara couldn't miss the slight bounce in his steps as he swept across the floor to the kitchen. He moved with undeniable grace.

"Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?" he asked.

"Tea is fine," Kara managed. Sweat beaded her forehead and she fought to keep her hands still at her sides.

"Any favorites? We've got most types stocked here..." de Ven rummaged through a cabinet.

"Peppermint is fine, thanks."

"Peppermint," he mused. "Always a good choice. Take a seat," he tipped his head to the cream-colored sofas and set about preparing her cup of tea. Wordlessly, she obeyed, head ever so subtly tipped downward, as to hide the faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

"Kara Turner," he repeated as if he liked the feel of her name on his lips. "You must be drowning in questions."

"I have a few," she admitted as she sank into the dense, feather down sofa. De Ven loosed a huff that could have passed as a laugh or a sigh—she couldn't tell. He turned, white teeth gleaming as he offered a smile that reeked trained charm, and crossed the space between the kitchen and herself. He passed her the mug with surprising gentleness, a veil of steam kissing her flushed cheeks as he claimed the couch across from her.

"I've heard that Chester took you to the control facility," he said by way of beginning, sipping his coffee. Kara nodded in affirmation, taking in small, tentative sips of her drink—perfectly sweet and laced with some citrus she couldn't quite place.

"Naughty Chester," Simon murmured, casting his gaze towards the curtained windows. He set his glass on the coffee table, and leaned forward, bracing his arms against his knees. "What do you know about what I do here on this island?"

"You do charity work. Mostly helping children in need of hospitals."

"That's right. I help Refugees from Europe, and hundreds from Africa alone. Not to mention that smallpox outbreak in Central America."

Kara nodded in understanding. The political world was, quite frankly, a total disaster. And as a biology major, she was more than familiar with the situation in Central America; a new strain of smallpox had come out of nowhere, and it was evolving far too quickly for anyone to put together a vaccination.

De Ven hesitated. "I assume that you did not like what you saw in the control facility?"

Kara shrugged, hands still clenched the warm mug, its warmth seeping into her stiff fingers. "To be perfectly honest, I was more disturbed by the medical center."

"That's understandable." De Ven leaned back and sipped from his cup. "Kara, I know that at first glance this isn't the job you were expecting–"

Kara snorted softly.

"–but there's a reason I brought you here. These kids, they've lost everything. They're the ones who don't have any family left. They were found on the streets or as lone refugees. You have to understand, I want you to work in the medical facility because I believe that you could help them. Really, properly, help them. We have psychologists and guards for their wellbeing, but you've seen them. They're not exactly the 'huggable' type, per say."