TITLE: The Promethius Immunity
GENRE: Urban Fantasy
Kay slipped her mother-of-pearl magnifying glass from its case. Time to earn her keep
The specimen had been mounted nearly to a professional standard, with leaves mounted in various positions, full stems and start of root system. Maddeningly familiar. This wasn’t a test, was it? She shook her head and had to laugh. Geez, two weeks into her holiday and she’d either lost her edge or gone crazy with boredom.
“At least it’s something to do besides lounge by the pool finding plant equivalents for other passengers’ cellulite,” a voice whispered.
Kay looked up. Just because she’d okayed a favour for Ida didn’t give Ida the right to reproach her. “Pardon?”
But Ida had kneeled to dig in another backpack, body language serene. She glanced up. “What? You know what it is?”
“Never mind,” Kay muttered, turning back to the scrapbook. The next several pages held few surprises, even if no geraniums. She flipped back to the page in question.
A headache began to worm its roots deep behind her eyes. The gilt furnishings and over fertilised flowers on the wallpaper were not meant to be seen by sober people on rolling seas. She was never doing this again. Holidays were for tramping through jungles hunting new specimens, not for being boxed up in yet another classroom, even if it was on a cruise ship and resembled a bordello’s boardroom.
Funny you call it that, the whisper voice spoke again. After all, you did whore yourself for this holiday.