Daughter of Zeus ✔

3.4

On the fifth week, Kressick visited.

In Ada's semi-fog state, she couldn't think of a reason not to let him inside.

She opened the door without a greeting.

He offered a half-smile. "Hello dear. May I come in?"

She moved out of the way, and Kressick stepped over the threshold. He carried a high-price piece of tech, and its sparkling casing was the one thing to break through the fog.

"What's that?"

Kressick assessed the tech casually. "Oh, it's my interface. Been glitching lately." He held it out to her. "Would you mind taking a look?"

The invitation seemed like a trick. "You think a former teacher like me is tech savvy?"

"Your mum, ah." Kressick cleared his throat, and went on anyway, "Your mum said you're quite handy with such things."

Understandably, Kressick thought his mention of Gemina might upset Ada, but she was more interested in his tech. It wasn't clunky like her interface. Ada plucked the thing from his hands. It was light, new, with advanced holographic capabilities and a clear touch screen. It seemed to be made of glass.

"Hmm."

She made her way to into the kitchen, studying the interface as she went. It was obviously expensive. However, she believed her wristlet to be better, even if it wasn't as showy. It seemed to her that in the long run, handheld devices like his would fade out.

"Hmm?" Kressick echoed. "Don't you want to know how it's glitching?"

She didn't need to tell Kressick how unnecessary that would be. As soon as Ada touched the machine, it whispered any and all malfeasance to her. In her short sojourn to the kitchen, Ada attempted to whisper back a solution.

The white lights faded, and the machine fizzled in her hands.

"Can't fix it."

She set the tech on the kitchen table.

Kressick picked up the useless brick. "What happened?"

"Dunno. It was probably manufactured by slave-children. Can't really rely on that type of production."

"I suppose not."

Rudely, Ada prepared only one cup of coffee. Kressick shrugged off the exclusion. He gave the cabinet a good knock, waited, and then opened the door to grab a mug. Ada had never seen him do it before. His use of roach-avoidance-tactics nearly made her spit out her coffee out in between gulps of laughter.

"What?"

Ada sipped her coffee. "Nothing."

Kressick carried his mug to the one piece of updated tech in the household: the food modulator.

He placed the mug in the beverage slot and spoke. "Coffee please. Two sugars, no cream."

Whirring and seconds later, hot coffee poured into the mug in a neat stream. A few coffee sips later, and then:

"Why are you still here?" Ada arched a brow, adding emphasis to the light blue glow in her eyes.

"Excuse me, I wasn't aware you wanted me gone."

Half in jest, Kressick sauntered from the kitchen, but Ada recalled him back.

"I don't mean gone from this house, I mean gone from this country," she explained.

He had yet to sit, his politeness disappeared behind a frown. "Your mother's sick, not dead. Why do you think I would want to leave?"

"I don't really care. Just curious."

They both sat at the table, the younger one full of arrogance and hurting, and the older one full of confusion and hurting.

Her mother was sick, marked for death at Tranquility, and yet the boyfriend remained. Though she would never say it, she found Kressick charming. Still, Ada wondered why he stuck around.

"Gas lines in England are shorter, and the energy bills are cheaper," she offered when Kressick didn't speak.

He eyed her, probably wondering how she knew that. She wasn't about to admit to illegally honing in on international channels, so they sat in silence.

Finally, "Yes, gas lines are non-existent in England because we promote the use of electric cars." He responded with an air of superiority that most foreigners used, and she liked him all the better for his honesty. "And yes, our energy bills are substantially less because the government invests in energy sources like solar, wind, and thorium, while you Americans keep digging, digging for more oil." He grinned, as if asking, Is this what you wanted to hear? It was more politics than they'd ever shared together, but then he shifted to another topic, "But, I came to this country disinterested in meeting someone like your mother. It was luck." He paused. "I came here because I have a daughter. However, I've stayed for your mother, and will continue to stay for her."

The tone of the conversation raised Ada's awareness. Fleetingly, she wondered if he was her father, under her proverbial nose the whole time.

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