Gift
A Thursday Prompt story
© 2024 by Walter Reimer

Thumbnail art by :icontechnicolorpie:, color by :iconmarmelmm:

Prompt:  thirty

The musk deer buck stood up as the Foreign Minister entered the office.  “Fair day, Balakrishnan-jih,” Chen Marcus said with a pleasant smile.  Although he shared her bed at times, he knew better than to show any familiarity with the Dhole-Akita femme while at work.  In a society where furs looked for weaknesses, it paid to hold certain things very close.
Anulka-Mei Balakrishnan returned the smile.  “Fair day, Chen-jih,” she said as she settled into the chair behind her desk.  “What is the agenda for today?”
“Daily meeting with the department heads at ten,” the buck replied, “followed by a meeting with the Information and Interior Ministers at fourteen.”
Balakrishnan nodded.  She didn’t trust the general who held the Interior portfolio as far as she could spit.  “All right.  Any reports or correspondence?”
“One odd item.”
Her ears flicked forward.  “’Odd?’  Explain.”
“A small box was delivered to the Ministry watch officer last night,” the musk deer replied, “addressed to you personally.  It appears to be keyed to your fingerprint,” he added as her eyebrows rose in surprise.
Balakrishnan took a breath and let it out slowly.  What the hell was this?  Trying to keep her composure she asked, “Has it been scanned?”
“Of course.  Contents are pieces of metal and a small piece of actual paper.  No toxins, radioactives, or pathogens.”
She frowned.  “Have it brought here, and I’ll open it.  Do we know who delivered it?”
“No, and there’s no indication of its origin,” Marcus said.  He slipped into datatrance to relay the order, and after a few minutes the small box was placed on the Dhole-Akita’s desk.
Balakrishnan pressed her thumb against the top of the box, and took a half-step backward as the box slowly unfolded, revealing a piece of folded paper resting atop several metallic discs.  She picked up the paper and opened it as Chen studied the discs.
“There’s thirty of these,” the buck said.
She glanced at the paper and folded it back up.  “Have them analyzed,” she said, and she glanced at him.  “Get yourself to the infirmary and scanned, in case there’s a nasty surprise on those.”
“Right.”  He left, and she reopened the note.
The writing was Basic, and not paw-written.  It read:  We know what you did.  Traitor.
Anulka-Mei Balakrishnan felt her throat go dry.