Blanche stood watching as Arturo looked around the empty apartment. Crystal was sitting in a corner, looking bored. Tempest stood in another corner, arms crossed and deep in thought. They'd been watching Arturo do his thing for half an hour, and they were all bored.
She looked at Tempest. "You want to talk about it?"
Crystal looked at her and silently shook her head.
"Talk about what?" Tempest asked, not looking at her.
"Whatever went down between you and Jordan. You've been moping since then," Blanche stressed.
"Leave it alone, Blanche," Crystal hissed.
Tempest looked up. "It was a private conversation between the young mare and myself. I was concerned with my Dreamwarden's family, which is my right. Focus on our mission or your Dreamwarden and those close to them, and leave my concerns to me."
"Yeah, back off, blondie! Jordan's our business," Crystal shouted.
"★Stop arguing. I found the lead on where the child came from★," Arturo said in Russian as he walked back into the room.
"What he say?" Crystal asked.
Blanche walked forward. "He found the path Mark came in from."
"He could have told us that in English," Crystal muttered.
Arturo laughed. "★Dumb pony doesn't want to learn other languages★."
"What he say?" Crystal asked.
Tempest left her corner. "He likes annoying you. Don't let him get to you. Arturo, can you keep track of the path while in a vehicle?"
"★Do you doubt my powers, Equestrian★?" Arturo asked. "★If he came by road, we can follow by road. Suppose he wasn't on the road. We'll have to park, and let me follow the path until it rejoins the road. If they walked cross-country, the crystal pony's van better be good at off-roading, or we shall have much walking to do★."
"I don't mind walking," Blanche said.
"Nor I," Tempest agreed. "We might have to get some bigger saddlebags for Crystal to carry extra supplies if it goes that way."
"What's this about walking and me carrying extra supplies??" Crystal asked, aghast. "If we have to leave the road, Matilda can do it. However, it might be slow going if it is too long a trip away from the road. She can't over-expend power when going over rough terrain."
"★Why does that pony name her vehicle like that★?" Arturo asked.
Tempest shook her head. "I don't know. Let Crystal call her car whatever she likes. If Crystal says her car–"
"Matilda is an all-terrain vehicle, not a car!" Crystal protested.
"–If Crystal says Matilda can make the trip, I believe her," Tempest continued. "And I'd much rather save our energy and ride if that's the case, even if the trip is slow. We should prepare for such a trip with additional supplies, just in case we are away from towns and cities for a while."
"I'll get us water jugs and dry food," Blanche said.
"We need to stop by an auto shop so I can get some stuff in case Matilda needs any maintenance along the way," Crystal said. "I suggest getting some extra battery backups for our phones. If Matilda has to subsist on solar power, I'd rather not waste her power on charging our phones–not unless we want to go at a crawl."
"Why can't we just bring extra batteries for your…for Matilda?" Blanche asked.
"Doesn't work that well. We could get some extra boost for a while in a pinch, but unless we need to gun it suddenly, it isn't very efficient away from a road. Let the solar panels do their job."
"★Worthless American technology. We should use good old gasoline★," Arturo muttered.
Crystal glared. "What did he say? That tone sounded negative. Is he insulting my Matilda?"
"Are we going to do this during the entire trip?" Blanche asked in exasperation.
Crystal stomped. "It's not my fault that language spells don't work well with crystal ponies, and I'm not some super smart geek like you who can easily learn new languages on my own!"
"It wasn't easy. I studied for years," Blanche said.
Crystal stomped again. "And I'm a high school dropout with a GED, so I didn't. He knows English. He should speak in English. I could deal with Spanish since we're likely going down into Mexico. I at least know a little Spanish, enough to get the gist of what he's saying."
"If he only communicates in curse words, perhaps," Tempest mused. "Arturo is going to speak as he pleases. Stop reacting to him, and he'll get bored of annoying you."
"Agreed," Blanche said. "Let's gather our belongings from Wabash Manor and then shop for supplies so we can be on the road as soon as possible. Josie will be joining us soon, much to my displeasure that our Dreamwarden will be unguarded."
Tempest nodded. "I want to get back to Phobia as soon as possible. Wallace is a capable guard, but I feel better being there myself."
Blanche sighed and headed to the front door; the other three followed. The apartment manager was standing outside still, wringing her hands together nervously.
"Did you agents find what you were looking for?" the manager asked nervously.
Blanche handed the keys to the apartment over. "Yes, this has been a very productive visit. We appreciate your cooperation."
The manager took the keys and fondled them absently. "Did Miss Hernadez do something other than keep a partial? She seemed like such a nice older woman. I was shocked when I heard about that partial she had been hiding."
Blanche frowned. "It's an ongoing investigation, so we can't comment. Again, on behalf of the OMMR, we are grateful you gave us access to the apartment. You may see us on complex grounds later, briefly, but we won't need access to the apartment again."
The manager nodded. "Of course. Happy to be of service. If that's all, I will lock up and return to work."
They walked out to Crystal's massive van and got in.
"You could have told her the old lady isn't guilty of anything," Crystal said.
"We can't verify she isn't guilty of anything we don't know about," Blanche replied. "Plus, she is guilty. Keeping a child locked away in her apartment for years without contact with the world is abuse and neglect, no matter how altruistic the reasons may have been. If she weren't in a coma, she would be on trial, and Jess should be the first one testifying against her."
Crystal started up the van. "Shame we couldn't visit Jess. We could have tested her self-defense technique. She's such a slacker when it comes to that. She trusts too much in physical strength and a few tricks with sound. Maybe planting her face in the dirt would make her take learning martial arts more seriously."
"Jessica's disregard for her safety is her own choice," Tempest said firmly. "If she thinks what she can do is good enough, she is no longer our responsibility."
"She's trying to adopt that partial kid," Crystal said, incredulous. "It isn't just herself she needs to protect. She needs to protect him, and you know that kid could be in danger. Somebody should be staying behind to guard him."
Blanche shook her head. "They'll cut their losses. They likely already did since they haven't had him in four years. If she adopts him, he'll be in the spotlight. They wouldn't risk exposure going after such a public target."
"And if she doesn't end up adopting him?" Crystal countered. "The girl's only nineteen. We all know she has issues. There's a good chance she won't be able to adopt him."
Blanche grunted. "Then all the more reason to cut off this serpent's head."
Jonathan stood waiting by the portal, checking the time on his watch. Ashley stood close behind him, occasionally yawning. Senator Growth and General Wilson also stood close by.
There were far more guards on duty than usual, and regular traffic between worlds had been temporarily suspended. Officially, the portal was undergoing maintenance; the real reason was they were receiving some high-profile visitors that they preferred the public not to know about.
"They're running late," Ashley said. "Think there's been trouble? Think she is causing trouble?"
Jonathan shook his head. "I doubt it. If I were her, I would be on my best behavior today. She's about to get what she has wanted for years, and it would be foolish to blow that at the finish line."
"Never met her, but from what I heard, nobody ever claimed she was smart," Ashley replied.
A pony came through the portal and headed to the general. They consulted briefly; the general nodded, and the pony dashed back through the portal while the general whispered to Wild Growth.
"Guess we aren't worth talking to," Ashley muttered and scowled. The scar lines on her face seemed to deepen as she did.
"They are still standing and waiting. They've given no instructions to anyone. That means nothing significant has changed," Jonathan replied. "I'm guessing that was someone apologizing for the delay and assuring that the party from Equestria will arrive shortly."
"I bet you five hundred dollars that the dumb monster is who is slowing things down," Ashley asserted. "I don't care if you think she'll be on good behavior."
Jonathan shook his head. "I don't gamble, but I'm still confident she'll be on good behavior. She's getting this chance because she's been good."
"Still an idiot; never underestimate an idiot," Ashley muttered.
They waited for a few more minutes before several members of the Equestrian Night Guard stepped through the portal and stood at attention. A unicorn wearing a slightly fancier version of the same Night Guard armor stepped through the portal, looked around, and stood to the side.
"Announcing her royal highest, Princess of Equestria, Sister of Celestia, Princess of the Night, Dutchess of the Shades, Guardian of Dreams, Matron of Dreamwardens, Princess Luna!" the fancy unicorn yelled loudly as the other guards clamped their legs together.
Princess Luna stepped through the portal, wearing only light regalia and a saddlebag. A dark creature that seemed part pony, part mantis, and part spider followed behind her on six legs, only to immediately dart to Luna's side, seemingly afraid. Then, a night pony charged through, glaring at the insectoid beast.
"★What did you say, you dunderheaded parasite★?!!" the night pony mare screamed in Equestrian.
Luna covered her face in exasperation with a wing as the night pony mare advanced on the changeling queen. Bursa tried to keep Luna between her and the mare, but the mare continued to pursue, and this quickly devolved into a comical chase around the alicorn.
"That's something you don't see every day," Ashley said as they watched the chase unfold.
Jonathan nodded in agreement, saying nothing. What could he say? The dreaded Bursa was being chased around like a frightened child by a pony a sixth of her size and likely a fraction of her strength. The mare had to be insane if she thought she could take on a changeling queen. Bursa had to be even more insane if she believed that, too.
General Wilson stepped forward. "Bursa Kobe! You will cease running around and present yourself-"
"★Come back here, you bug, so I can rip your tongue out★!" the night pony mare screamed, still pursuing Bursa in a circle.
"What the hell is going on here?" General Wilson demanded in disbelief, spreading his arms.
Bursa must have spotted Wild Growth during the chase because she made a break for the senator with the night pony in hot pursuit. General Wilson hastily went to draw his gun and jumped away in fright as Bursa hid behind Wild Growth, or at least tried to–even cowering, she towered over the earth pony. Was Wild Growth supposed to do more to protect her than an alicorn princess?
Wild Growth didn't flinch at Bursa being so close to her but put herself more squarely in the night pony mare's path.
"Stop this!" Wild Growth yelled. "I don't know what's happening, but it needs to stop!"
Luna finally lowered her wing. "Cease this indignant behavior, Jimsonweed! We arrive, and you immediately embarrass us! Stop acting like a rabid diamond dog!"
Jimsonweed pointed a wing at Bursa. "★She called the Hallowed Shades a dump that should be demolished★!"
General Wilson had his gun out and pointed at Bursa, as did the other guards from the Earth side. "Surrender, or I'll shoot!"
"That pony's emotions are vile! They sicken me! Get her away!" Bursa screamed, still more afraid of Jimsonweed than having multiple guns pointed at her.
"Lower your weapon, general!" Luna commanded. "Jimsonweed, back away and calm yourself!"
The night pony mare finally backed off, muttering under her breath. The Night Guard had never moved to intercede with any of this, staying at attention, though it looked like they were ready to break out laughing.
Wild Growth looked around. "Will you all lower your weapons? Bursa isn't attacking anyone. Can't you see she's terrified?"
The guards looked at General Wilson, who nodded and holstered his weapon.
"How does a single night pony inspire such fear?" Jonathan asked. "Even if she were a match for Josie in power, she wouldn't be a physical threat to a changeling queen. I hope she wasn't using mind magic. It would be a shame if we had to arrest her."
Luna shook her head. "Jimsonweed possesses no such power. What she commands is rage and contempt. While changelings can stomach anger or fear, even if they get no sustenance from them, a combination of these stronger, detestable emotions can hurt them. That is why they tend to prey on ponies. Their victims may be afraid or angry, but they don't normally respond with the right cocktail of negativity to weaken their hunters."
Ashley laughed low under her breath. "And she's coming to Earth? Wow, Bursa's going to be sick a lot."
It did seem to be the wrong place to come if that were true.
"Did I hear the general call her by first and last name?" Jonathan asked, loud enough to be heard by all.
General Wilson nodded. "Yes, we have identified who she was before she got turned into…this. We agreed, under Equestria pressure, to help give her and her family closure. It seems our intelligence gathering can still surpass the Dreamwardens."
"At times, perhaps," Jonathan replied.
Luna looked at Jonathan. "You and Bursa have some unfortunate history. Will her presence here be a problem for you?"
Jonathan bowed slightly. "The Dreamwardens and OMMR have a long history of forgiving individuals for past misdeeds. We have forgiven far worse."
General Wilson glared at him. "Yes, the list of criminals you have in your employ is staggering–Crystal Dreams, Shadow Dancer, Josie Woods, Arturo Ivanov, not to mention previously employing and hiding Carson Forsythe Fugger AKA Ulysses AKA the Charleston Throat Ripper. The list goes on."
"And should I list off the people still living who are employed or previously employed by the military that should be charged with crimes against humanity or war crimes?" Jonathan asked. "I assure you, the list is far more extensive. Long before your appointment to general, didn't you oversee that operation in Yemen that resulted in over a hundred civilian casualties without a single enemy combatant neutralized? I believe that at least twelve of those dead were children under the age of ten. Yet, somehow, the military tribunal let you off without so much as a slap on the wrist."
The general went red-faced and stepped towards him, waving a finger. "Don't you distort facts and get high and mighty with me, you Dreamwarden piece of shit! I serve my country! How about we talk about your damn vigilante-"
"General! Director! Both of you stand down and act civilized!" Wild Growth shouted. "We are here to receive a foreign dignitary, not bicker like children."
"Why not?" General Wilson demanded. "This is closed to the press, so we don't need to worry about putting on a PR show for the public. I'm sick and tired of these Dreamwarden bastards thinking they can do what they want!"
"General, may I remind you that I'm a Dreamwarden," Luna said coldly.
"And the reason we are saddled with this lawless nightmare," General Wilson spat.
Wild Growth turned and glared at him. "Her words might mean nothing to you, but how about I remind you that my word carries exceptional weight on the Senate floor and with much of the American public. Do you want me to be your enemy? Perhaps we should launch an investigative committee into your record." She looked at Jonathan. "As well as your agents' records. I try not to get caught up in these things. The people who voted for me don't want me calling for investigations. They want positive change, not muckraking, and the circus these investigations create detracts from passing legislation that can actually improve people's lives, which is what I was elected to do. Still, if you don't behave yourselves, I'll be making a speech tomorrow morning accusing you all of wrongdoing."
General Wilson stepped back and crossed his arms. Bursa continued cowering in terror behind the earth pony throughout all of this.
Luna came up forward. "We thank you for your…passionate…welcome. You all know Bursa. The spirited mare accompanying us is Jimsonweed, the adopted daughter of one of your retired Dreamwardens. While I am assisting with your expedition to Jeg'galla'gamp'pi, she will be investigating the charges it seems General Wilson is concerned with."
The general grinned. "We would be happy to provide her with military assistance. In fact, I must insist that we do."
Luna smirked. "You may regret such an offer, but I shall allow it."
The general crossed his arms. "We also need to discuss how many soldiers we will be sending with you on this expedition, and we need to inspect this craft of the Dreamwardens. Where are you keeping this thing?"
"On our farm," Jonathan answered. "The workers there are as tight-lipped as they come. If the colt mentions it at school, it can be dismissed as just one of those tall tales kids come up with."
General Wildon scowled deeper, likely at the mention of Moses attending school. The military did not want Moses out in public and considered him a weapon rather than a child, but Phobia had fought long and hard for Moses to have a normal life, at least as normal as a mind-magic-welding necromancer could have. Everyone who knew about him knew the Warden of Fear was grooming him to be her eventual successor. There was no guarantee that he would be since he still had to go through the same process as every other candidate, but it did usually at least make him a candidate. Still, it gave a general timeframe for when Phobia intended to retire. New Dreamwardens needed to be in their late teens or early twenties. Moses was still in elementary school, so they had at least a decade, if not more.
"We are deeply distressed that the Dreamwardens have been withholding technology that can make such trips," General Wilson said. "It should be in our care, not in the care of zombies and ghouls."
"The spacecraft is essentially the same as the craft designs we already provided you, only this one doesn't have any weapon systems, is more resistant to extreme temperatures, has a small cargo hold, can carry a small crew instead of a single pilot, and can't maneuver at high speeds. It is simple peacetime transport, not a weapon of war, and it would never make it beyond our galaxy alone. It is the spell that will get the craft there and back, and the power needed for that spell requires an alicorn. The military doesn't have an alicorn, do you?" Jonathan asked.
"We do not. You would tell us if there was an alicorn in hiding, correct?" the general asked.
"We respect the privacy of what we learn in dreams," Jonathan answered.
"Let's move this discussion to the private suite we have reserved so we can let the portal get back into public operation," Wild Growth said. She looked behind her. "You can quit hiding. I won't let Jimsonweed terrorize you. You've tussled with the Element Bearers before and given them a challenge; one little pony isn't going to hurt you."
Bursa looked up. "They weren't so hateful! Even when they were subduing me, there was love and kindness."
The earth pony rolled her eyes and started marching to a side door. The rest of them followed, with Bursa keeping very close to Wild Growth.
"Charleston Throat Ripper?!" Ashley whispered harshly. "That sounds like a serial killer name. Why are we sheltering someone like that?! Why didn't you tell me? You know what happened to me as a foal. You know how I got my scars."
"Psychic Calm employed Ulysses, and he died in the line of duty fighting a shadow monster–ironically, one Bursa accidentally unleashed," Jonathan answered in a whisper. "While we have some people of questionable backgrounds on our payroll, none are near as bad as that man was; none of them are murderers. Blanche and I despised him. I don't know why Psychic Calm took him in, and I don't care. Psychic Calm is retired, and I'm in charge of the hiring at the OMMR now. While we might hire some repentant thieves, vandals, and even some past mind-magic abusers, all of whom we are giving a second chance, we don't hire murderers. Not on my watch."
"Do we have any legacy employees that murdered anyone?" Ashley asked.
Jonathan frown. "One, but they are a special case, and they are retiring soon."
Ashley sneered. "We'll talk about this later."
Jessica got up and stretched. She'd been sitting in her chair, grading tests, for several hours now, and she needed to get up and move around.
The results of the tests were more or less what she expected. Most students failed the test, usually not even coming close to passing. To be fair, this test was the final plus more advanced material, and this wasn't even a whole week into classes. She'd graded half of them now, and out of those, she had four that qualified for her offer to get an A in the class and not have to show up for any further classes. Of those four, only one got a significant amount of the additional content correct. That test had been set aside as a student that could be useful to her. One student out of that massive class. Half the tests still needed to be graded, and she never had much hope of anyone from the undergraduate course being helpful, but it was still disappointing that she'd seen just one student worth anything to her.
That was unfair. Other students could be valuable years down the road. Only one student was currently useful. That didn't mean the rest would never be useful, even if many were only in her class for their required science course. Still, she hoped that the large number of test grades she had seen in the twenties, teens, and even single digits out of a score of one to a hundred might cause some more students to drop the class and lighten her load. She didn't want to have to grade this many tests ever again. It was time-consuming, and she had more important numbers than test scores to crunch.
She heard footsteps and various bodily functions outside her office door and checked the time. It was already two. She had hoped to have been done with grading the tests by now, but she had underestimated how long it took her students to complete the test, and she underestimated how rotten their penmanship would be. It took time to decipher what exactly had been written down. A few of them had even written in cursive. Who in the year 2042 wrote in cursive?! At least a dozen of her students, that's who. It was an antiquated script that had no business being used to fill out a test.
Adam knocked at the door.
"You may enter," she said, projecting her voice to be sure she was heard.
Adam walked in and looked at the half-finished task on her desk. "How did your students do?"
"Four students know the content so far. Keeping with that pace and with how many tests I still have left to grade, six to ten students may be happy come Thursday," she answered as she picked her lab coat off the back of her chair and put it on.
."That's pretty good, considering what I saw of that test," he said. "Why the jacket? It's fairly warm today. Aren't you afraid of overheating?"
"I can endure the heat for today. I prefer to be covered up," she said as she grabbed her purse.
He frowned. "As you wish. It isn't too busy out there. A few students were going about, but nothing like this morning. Things tend to simmer down after one."
She listened. Echoes made it hard to tell exactly how many sets of footsteps were in the main hall, and heartbeats became challenging to sort out after they got past about five, but it didn't seem to be that many. Less than a dozen students in total, that was something she was confident in estimating. She could manage it without any significant trouble. Getting back to the office hadn't been bad. She could do this.
"Where's this bar?" she asked.
"Top floor of the administrative building, opposite the large boardroom. You'll need your faculty badge. The room is key-carded to the badges. Your picture and name pop up on the bartender's screen when you scan, and they spot-check to make sure that's who is actually coming in as you come through the door–at least during the day. They count on the faculty to spot enterprising students who lifted or duplicated a faculty badge when it is busier, and the bartender can't be staring at the door every time his screen beeps."
"Do they try that often?" she asked.
"At least once or twice a semester. If they want to get into a bar, there are easier and cheaper places to go, but it's off-limits to students, so they do it for the thrill. They always get caught and kicked out in short order," Adam said as he held open the door and made a sweeping gesture along with a half bow. "Ladies first."
She wasn't much for chivalry. Him going first would be preferable. If he went first, he'd be the first one noticed by others, but she couldn't think of a good excuse to give him, so she took a breath and headed out the door. He followed behind, pulling it shut behind them.
Dean Francis was talking to a student at the end of the hall. He spotted her and wrapped up his conversation with the student. He then walked towards her.
"Doctor Middleton, Doctor Jefferson, good to see the two of you together. You are both such shut-ins. It is good to see you socializing, if only with each other," Dean Francis greeted.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Thank you, I guess."
"Is something wrong, Doctor Francis?" Adam asked.
Dean Francis looked at Jessica. "I wanted to follow up to find out if you had secured that apartment, and if so, when you can move your office there."
Of course, he did. Why wouldn't that be the first thing on his mind and not how are her classes going or asking if she had any questions or problems? Nope, it's how quickly she can get away from him.
"I moved into my apartment yesterday, and I'm still unpacking. It may be late next week before I can move my office there since I have a packed schedule for this week," she answered.
Adam held out his hand pleadingly. "Surely there has to be a better solution to her hearing issue than that. The board of governors would be extremely disappointed to hear Jessica wasn't keeping her office on campus after how proud they were to obtain her services. It would be as if we were saying she wasn't part of the faculty, and I know that isn't the message they want to send our donors."
"It's okay, Adam. I already agreed to it," Jessica said, feeling suddenly tired.
"And there is no practical solution," Dean Francis said smugly. She wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.
"Jessica deals with the Dreamwardens; what about a Dreamwarden contract?" Adam asked. "Have her promise not to steal or use information she hears in the other offices. Dreamwarden contracts are magically binding. That should deal with privacy concerns."
The smug look dropped. She hated Dreamwarden contracts, though she had been bound to a few on and off over the years–primarily to keep her from blabbing single conversations. Phobia was very keen to use them to protect confidential information. Even with how much she didn't like them, she'd do it just for this victory.
"I'm willing to do that. I can have a copy on your desk by this time next week," Jessica said with a smug grin of her own.
Dean Francis adjusted his glasses and chewed on his lip. She could tell he was trying to come up with an excuse, any excuse, for why that would not be acceptable. The fact the silence was starting to drag on made it clear that he was struggling to find anything.
"First thing when you come in Tuesday morning next week, paper on my desk. If it isn't there by the end of the day, we move forward with the office being moved," the skinny little man finally said.
"It shall be done," Jessica said with a nod. "If you'll excuse us, we had plans that we're running behind on, and I'm a very busy woman."
Dean Francis nodded. "Of course, good day to you, Doctor Middleton, Doctor Jefferson." He then turned and returned to his office, walking a little faster than seemed casual for a man of his age and stature.
"Always good to see one of these old fogies squirm," Adam said. "They think they're so much better than us. They're always afraid we'll overshadow them and do everything to put us down."
She was pretty sure the fact she was a partial played into this, but she wasn't going to contradict Adam.
"There's nothing so constant as each generation thinking they are superior to those that follow," she replied.
Adam laughed. "Isn't that the truth?" He then stopped and ribbed his head. "I did need to tell you. I got cornered on my way back from class by Violet. She wants to speak to you. I'd recommend speaking to her when you get a chance."
More drama? What did this person want?
"Who's Violet, and why should I talk to her?" she asked.
"It is Dean Primbrook, but everyone just calls her Violet, even her students, unless it is a very formal occasion or an email. She's one of the other young professors on campus–I think she's thirty. She holds a doctorate in communication and public relations, and she's Dean of the Liberal Arts. It is no secret she has her eyes set on being Provost," Adam explained. "This isn't high school, but the best term to apply to her is the queen bee. She has enormous influence on campus and with the board of governors. She can make you popular or a pariah with a few choice words. She's someone you want to be on the good side of. She can also get Dean Francis off your back."
"She is the Dean of Liberal Arts at thirty?" Jessica asked skeptically.
"She's very good at what she does," Adam said. "Everyone is shocked she doesn't run for political office or run a PAC or something of the like, but she's focused entirely on building people up or tearing them down here. She's not someone you want to blow off."
Great, someone who could make her life hell on campus and who likely expected her to kiss her feet–or hooves; Adam hadn't said if Violet was a human or a pony. Why couldn't she just come to work, do her job, and go home? Still, if this person could make Dean Francis get off her back, it might not be the worst possible thing. It was unlikely someone whose academic focus was communication and public relations had much interest in physics or math, so there wasn't much extra work Jessica could be asked to do for her. Jessica was supposed to have been a massive hire for the university; that's probably why this queen bee had taken an interest.
"I'll take time to visit her office soon," she assured him. "Let's go get that coffee."