Professional Virgin: Unicorn Interpreter
by Lise
First published
Being a unicorn interpreter isn't easy. What's more, you have to be a virgin.
Being a unicorn interpreter isn't easy. The hours are crazy, the pressure is nerve-racking, you have no idea what job you'll be called for... and you have to be a virgin, or you'll never be able to understand them.
Special thanks to Octavia Harmony, FloydienSlip, and Zyrian for editing.
Walk in the Park
"Katie, can we have a bite there?" The unicorn pointed at a food shack at the edge of the park—nothing fancy, a single one room building with a few benches and tables in front.
"Of course, Ms. Dis Lee." I nodded. This wouldn’t have been my place of choice, but after last night I was dying for a double espresso.
"Please, call me Fleur," the unicorn laughed, then casually trotted across the street, making me run to keep up.
Fleur—or Ms. Dis Lee as I preferred to address her—was the representative of a multimillion-dollar fruit producer and my current employer. She was also a unicorn from another world. I was still in middle school when her kind first arrived, but I still remember how enthusiastic I felt about the whole thing. Legendary creatures arriving through a magic portal, it seemed like a scene from an anime. However, there was one catch.
"Five of whatever pastries they recommend." Ms. Dis Lee sat at one of the tables. "And a bowl of tea."
Only virgins could communicate with unicorns, and with the increasing number of trade and business relations between our worlds a new occupation was born. The official term, according to the jobs registry, was Unicorn Interpreter. Yet there was another way we were referred to: Professional Virgins.
"Five of something sweet and a bowl of tea," I said to the vendor, flashing a magenta credit card. "And a double espresso."
"Gotcha," the man sad, handing me the card swiper. "Go right ahead, I'll bring them when they're ready."
"Thank you." I pressed the credit card against the device. "Add a glass straw if you have any."
Putting the card back in my purse, I then went to Ms. Dis Lee's table and sat down. She had already taken out her tablet and was reading intently. I couldn't help but wonder if she was preparing for her meeting or reading a gossip column. At the end of the day it didn't matter much. I was only paid to convey her words.
"Are you nervous?" she asked without lifting her glance from the tablet.
"No, Ms. Dis Lee," I lied. I could feel butterflies in my stomach. Fresh outta high school and already involved in a fifty million dollar trade negotiation. Nope, I wasn't worried. Not one bit.
"It's like that the first few times." The unicorn tapped on the tablet screen with her hoof. "After that you'll stop noticing you're even there. If you want my advice, imagine you're doing karaoke. As long as you don't rush the words everything will be—" She suddenly stopped, glancing at something behind me. "Oh, my stars! It can’t be!" Ms. Dis Lee smiled and began waving to someone behind me. "Joanna!"
My interpreter instincts kicked in. "Joanna," I repeated loudly before I could even see who I was addressing.
"Fleur?" A surprised voice asked. The woman in question was blond, at least ten years older than me, short and chubby, dressed so casually I felt envious... and with a baby pouch. "Fleur, what are you doing here?" She rushed to join us. "I thought you were in Europe!"
"Well, you know how it is," the unicorn giggled.
"Well, you know how it is," I repeated, moving aside so Joanna could sit across Ms. Dis Lee.
"So this is the little rascal you quit ApplePeak for." The unicorn booped Joanna's baby on the nose. It laughed. I hesitated a few seconds whether to interpret that or not. Virgin School hadn't said anything about being part of personal conversations. "Is your mommy pampering you, little one? Because if not I'm going to levitate her in the air and leave her dangling as the silly girl she was when I hired her."
I coughed, but managed to voice all that. I could feel my face turning red. To make matters worse, the vendor came with our order—a bowl of tea, five slices of chocolate cake, and a double espresso for me. No glass straw, of course. I quickly thanked the man on Ms. Dis Lee's behalf, then took my espresso. Discussing babies and virginity loss in public, with me having to voice half the words, made me extremely uncomfortable. I was relieved when the vendor left to deal with another customer. I took a sip of my drink. It tasted awful, but at least I felt more alert.
"So this is my replacement?" Joanna smiled, looking at me. "As green as I was. What's your name, hon?"
I turned towards the unicorn. Legally it wasn't forbidden for me to have conversations with other people while on the clock, but it was strongly discouraged. Ms. Dis Lee nodded, giving me the go ahead.
"Katie," I said, feeling like such a freshman.
"Eight year contract?" Her baby started fidgeting, so she took out a baby bottle and gave it to him.
"Four," I replied. "With the option to renew."
"Short ones are always better, unless you have student loans." Despite the milk bottle, the baby continued to fidget, becoming more and more grumpy. "Seems someone needs his nap time. Lovely seeing you again, Fleur." Joanna smiled to Ms. Dis Lee. "Buzz me if you're in the area sometime. Would love to catch up."
I was ready to voice the unicorn's words, but instead she kissed her hoof and waved with it to Joanna. I felt chills pass through me. Everyone who'd graduated Virgin School knew the significance of that gesture: "goodbye and I'm sorry I can't talk to you anymore." It was reserved for that moment when an interpreter chose to do away with their virginity, forever deafening all unicorn voices.
"Don't be so glum," Ms. Dis Lee said as Joanna walked away. "I still keep in touch. You'll probably write a few letters to Joanna on my behalf during your career. There also are excellent post-Virgin programs. Remember, you're not just some human. Most of us keep our ties with our former interpreters."
"Yes, Ms. Dis Lee." I took another gulp of my espresso.
The rest of the snack continued in silence. I sat there, trying to bottle the internal emotions the experience had brought up. Meanwhile, the unicorn enjoyed her slices of cake. Did she feel anything at all? Or was it all an act? Maybe they really stopped caring about us once we lost our virginity. In four years I would probably find out.
Ten minutes later we were on our way once more. The trade negotiations were to be held at ChainPro's corporate offices. I wasn't well versed in business ventures, but even I knew that anyone who wanted to do an agricultural deal in the U.S. had to go through them. As we stood in the lobby, I watched other unicorn negotiators arrive with their interpreters. A few of them I knew from Virgin School, most I did not. There were a few clergymen. In the present day and age all major religions allowed their members to enter in short term contracts.
"Don't let them intimidate you," Fleur whispered. "When they start shouting, and trust me they will, remember they are shouting at me. You are untouchable."
"Yes, Ms. Dis Lee." I straightened the collar of my blouse.
"And one final thing, Katie." For the first time since she'd requested my services she looked me in the eye. "If you fall in love make sure it's real and not a negotiations saboteur."
I nodded. They had warned us about it in Virgin School, but it felt different hearing it from a unicorn. Apparently, they did care about us in their own alien way. As I entered the elevator my mobile phone vibrated. I had gotten a request for a weekend job: a unicorn tourist wanted to check out some local music clubs and was in need of an interpreter. I tapped accept and put my phone away. For the next few hours I could only focus on the negotiations. Until they were over I was Ms. Dis Lee's voice. Afterwards, I was free to choose whose voice I was.
1. Day One
Author's Notes:
Thank you, everyone! :)
Thanks to the incredible support I've decided to continue Professional Virgin In a multi chapter story. The (real) ending was already been established before I wrote the first fragment, but now I'll get to explore more of the topics that were touched upon.
Hope you enjoy and thanks again for getting me to write this :D
"Here." Ms. Dis Lee floated a bottle of water to me. "Drink this and relax a bit."
I grabbed it. My hands were trembling so much I couldn't twist the cap open. First day of my contract with a big client and things couldn't have gone worse. The unicorn hadn’t been kidding when she said there would be shouting. Five minutes in and the ChainPro negotiator had started yelling at me as if I'd cut him off in traffic. A few minutes after that my mind had blanked out.
"You did quite well for your first time." Ms. Dis Lee sat on the floor behind her custom equine desk. "Not the best result, but you must put the experience behind you and focus on other things." She took a bowl of lily petals from a drawer. "Sorry, I skipped breakfast today," she said as she started munching in the flowers. "Drink your water."
"Yes, Ms. Dis Lee." I managed to open the bottle at last and took a sip.
The water tasted bland. I preferred espresso. While my employer was eating, I glanced about her office. It was far more human than I expected. There were no exotic plants, no fantastic pets, not even a magical glowing crystal that my virgin colleagues kept telling me about. One thing caught my interest—a framed portrait of blond male unicorn placed strategically on her desk. His fur was white as Ms. Dis Lee's.
"Is that your brother?" I decided to play it safe.
The unicorn paused mid-bite, looked at me, glanced at the portrait I was pointing at, then almost choked laughing.
"Katie, you're adorable," she said once she'd swallowed her food. "This, my dear—" she tapped on the wooden frame "—is an old acquaintance of mine, who happens to be a prince and one of my business partners back home."
"Oh." I looked down. Knowing I had messed up negotiations between ChainPro and a prince made me feel a whole lot worse.
"Anyway, it might be a good idea for us to go over our strategy for the next round of negotiations." Ms. Dis Lee put the half-finished bowl back in the drawer.
"There will be a next round?" I stared at her. "I thought that after today—”
"The deal was off?" she interrupted. Truth was I feared I’d lost my job. "Don't be silly. No one wastes this much time unless they're interested. The shouting is a clear sign they want this deal. They're just haggling about the price."
That was something they didn't teach us in Virgin School. It might have been worth mentioning that the more high profile the client the more shouting would be involved. I had friends who had quit due to "unacceptable conditions." Now, I think I knew what they meant.
"And no need to worry about your contract." The unicorn smiled. "If I fired virgins for every little mistake I might as well go back to Canterlot and let somepony else handle the negotiations."
"Yes, Ms. Dis Lee," I said and took another sip of water. Meanwhile, my employer floated her phone into the air and dialed a number.
"Alex,” she said the instant the call began. "Please bring the best practices file, would you? Oh and get me a few slices of bitter apple."
Not even waiting for a conformation, Ms. Dis Lee hung up and put the phone away. Alex, or Alexander Backman, was the company intern. I'd met him a few times: he was the one who had organized my interview, as well as introduced me to Fleur Dis Lee before the signing of my contract. Technically he too was a virgin, but unlike me he didn't plan making a career out of it. The only reason he decided to "save himself" for a few more years was to advance his business career. Smart move, considering he was enjoying daily talks with his VP, while his direct superiors couldn't dream of getting anywhere near her office.
I looked at the framed portrait again. Ms. Dis Lee had to be pretty important to have the portrait of a prince on her desk. I wondered if I would be seeing him at some point. She did say that he was her business partner, so there was a chance he dropped by to check his interests, if nothing else.
"A thousand pardons." Alex rushed in, not bothering to knock. "The seventh floor kitchen was crowded, so I had to go to the eighth." He closed the door behind himself, then rushed to place a crystal bowl full of apples before the unicorn.
"Alex," Ms. Dis Lee sighed. "I said a few slices, not a few apples!"
"You know I always mess things up, Fleur." He remained completely unfazed. I envied that about him. "Hi, Katie. How was the first day?"
I remained silent.
"That bad, eh?" He took a flash drive out of his pocket and gave it to me. "Don't let it get to you. Pat went through the same on her first day."
"Pat?" I looked to Ms Dis Lee. That wasn't a name I recognized.
"Patricia was my interpreter before we hired you." Ms. Dis Lee pushed the bowl of apples to the side of her desk. "Lovely girl, magnificent interpreter. Sadly, she had to leave us."
The message was clear. This was a topic I had to stay clear of. Judging by Alex' sudden change of expression he’d realized he hadn't thought his comment fully through.
"Anyway, let me not keep you," Ms. Dis Lee smiled widely—the unicorn way of saying our conversation had reached its end. "Take the opportunity to relax the next few days and get yourself acquainted with as many of the files as you can. Did you include the videos, Alex?" She turned towards the intern.
"All last year's presentations and conference videos." He nodded.
"Perfect,” said, taking out her tablet. "Have fun, Katie. I'll call you when I need you. Alex will see you out."
That was my cue. Still holding the half-full plastic bottle, I took the flash drive and put it in my purse. A quick "goodbye" and Alex and I were out of the office. Finally, I could breathe in peace.
"Sorry, Katie. I messed up there," Alex rushed beside me. "Shouldn't have brought Pat up. Things were a bit crazy when she left. I had to temp as an interpreter for a few weeks, and organize interviews for her replacement."
"Must have been fun," my words dripped with sarcasm.
"Let's just say, one doesn't go on a first name basis with the VP just like that."
As we walked towards the elevator, several middle-aged employees made a point to grumble a sort of greeting as we passed by. Obvious middle managers, they only went so far as to coat their disdain. An intern and a interpreter. In their eyes we didn't deserve the money or attention we were getting "doing a job a five-year-old could". If it were up to them, they'd reinstate child labour.
"So what happened to her?" I asked as we waited for the ride do the first floor.
"She was sabotaged," Alex whispered. A shiver went down my back. That wasn't a word any virgin wanted to hear. Ever. "She got scammed into a one night stand a day before key negotiations. It was a real mess." The elevator door opened. "Best not talk about it."
"Best not," I agreed and stepped in. "See you, Alex."
So much for living the dream. There were quite a few things I was going to have to get used to.
2. Night Out
"Double espresso and a Red Bull." I leaned against the counter. The barkeeper glared at me, as if I had ordered a shot of tequila. "I'm a virgin, okay?" I took out my magenta credit card and waved it in front of his face.
"Can I see some credentials, Miss?" He took a step back, not the least bit impressed.
"Are you serious?" I fumbled through my purse. This was the first time someone had asked me for my Virgin Card. Up until now my credit card had always done the trick.
"Bar policy, Miss. ID needed after nine." He crossed his arms and waited. Obviously, the entire universe was conspiring against me. I'd hoped after the day I'd had that I could at least get a cup of coffee. Seems I was wrong.
Fumbling through my bag, I found the laminated piece of plastic that identified me as an Interpreter, and showed it to the barkeeper. He took precisely one glance at it, then went to the espresso machine.
"Recent graduate?" he asked, starting to brew my shot. I ignored him, tapping impatiently on the counter. "Part of the group?"
"Group?" I asked, confused. The barkeeper pointed behind me.
A group of three was sitting quietly at a table in the corner, enjoying a few drinks. One look was enough for me to tell they were fellow graduates: they had that air of calm tenseness that only someone dealing with unicorns could acquire. I could also see their magenta cards on the table—the universal way of saying "non-virgins not welcome".
This was the first time I'd come across virgins outside work. Everyone from my class, myself included, had scattered all over the country after the graduation. In this line of work the money was where the unicorns were, which, for the most part, meant New York or somewhere in the orchard states. So far I had spent most of my time getting accustomed to city life and hadn't bothered to getting to know any of the local interpreters on a personal level.
"Can you bring it there when it's done?" I asked. The barkeeper's mouth twisted into a frown, but he nodded. "Thanks." I grabbed my bag and went towards the group.
Of the three, two were girls, both dressed in elegant grey business suits. If I had to guess, I'd say they were working for an insurance company or a law firm. I could see us getting along fine. The third was a babyfaced blond who gave a whole new meaning to the word ‘casual’. Messy hair, baggy jeans, and a T-shirt I wouldn't be caught dead wearing outside of home, he laughed along with his friends, drinking Pepsi straight out of a glass bottle. If it wasn't for his card on the table I'd have taken him for a lurker.
"Excuse me." I smiled, holding my magenta card so they could see. "Okay if I join you? I'm Katie."
The three looked at each other. The obligatory measuring up, so typical of virgin culture. A few moments passed in silence, while they were determining if I was good enough.
"Sure." The bronze-skinned girl took the initiative. "I'm Carla," she stood up and greeted me with a cheek brush before I could react. "That's Alice—" the other girl waved from her seat "—and Mike."
"Yo." The babyface gave me a thumbs up.
I nodded to each in turn, trying to hide the rush of blood to my face. Mumbling a response of sorts, I sat in one of the free chairs, adding my credit card to the others on the table.
"So, what's your deal?" Mike asked, as he leaned back. "Administration? Bank? Big ass company?"
"Business liaison," I corrected. The bartender came by, bringing my order. I muttered a thanks, then took a sip of my espresso. "Full staff contract."
"Cool, cool." The brunette across me, who had been introduced as Alice, nodded several times. "United Nations," she added with a smug expression.
"Hell, please don't start measuring contracts," Carla sighed. Now that I was close I could see her suit wasn't as high-end as I initially thought. Most likely she hadn't managed to make a good contract and was left picking up whatever was available. "Can't we spend one evening without going into whose unicorn's more important? In four years all of us will be replaced and the capitalist machine will keep on turning. Business as usual."
"Sweetie, you really need to find new employers," Alice gave her a consolatory hug. "Tourists mess up your brain."
"You can say that again," Carla grumbled. "Bjorn," she said loudly, turning towards the bar. "Another one, please."
"Are they that bad?" I shuffled, both hands around my small espresso cup. The comment peaked my curiosity. "I thought tourists were fun."
"Fun?" Carla snorted—a habit one acquired after spending too much time among unicorns. Personally, I found it disturbing. "Know what I did today? Spent ten hours visiting sugar factories... again! I don't know what's with unicorns and sugar. You'd say they'd found the Holy Grail or something. And then the souvenir shops? Don't get me started!" Beside me, Mike chuckled. "Good luck trying to convince them they're buying crap for ten times its actual value. I swear if I have to voice another discussion about the 'traditional earth pony gardening techniques' I'll throw up!"
"Gardening techniques?" I blinked. "What does that have to do with sugar factories and souvenir shops?"
"See?" Carla turned to the rest. "She understands me!"
"So what's your employer like?" Mike asked. His curiosity was getting annoying. "Talker? Snob? Parent?"
"She's a businessmare," I replied, not going into details.
"What Mike is trying to ask, is whether she's nice to you," Clara clarified.
"Sorry." Talk about embarrassing. They probably took me for a country bumpkin. "She's nice. I've only been with her for a day."
"Fresh to the big city?" Alice leaned forward. "Don't sweat it. Same here. Six months after graduation. I was so lost the first few weeks. Good thing I ran into these two."
"Good is a strong word," Carla sighed. I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. "I still blame that unicorn couple. If only they'd turned left."
The conversation moved on to anecdotes and past experiences they had together. I tried to make sense as much as I could, joining in the laughter every now and again. At one point my phone started pinging. In the three seconds it took to take it out, seven messages had arrived. All were from Ms. Dis Lee—sent through Alex—asking if I was doing better, along with a long list of YouTube links.
“Huh?” Curious, I tapped on the first one. A video of a kitten playing with a unicorn popped up, filling the screen—one of the "Unicorns on Earth" clips that had been flooding the web since the start of tourist season. None of them shined with any originality, just unicorns doing something stupid. In this case, a middle-aged, beige unicorn stood still, annoyed expression on his face, while a kitten on his head was doing its best to claw its way up his horn.
"What's that?" Carla glanced at my screen.
"I've no idea," I watched on as the kitten leapt, grabbing hold of the tip of the horn with its front paws. "My boss sent it to me."
"Oh my goodness!" Across me Alice burst laughing, as the frightened kitten started dangling from the horn, while the unicorn grumbled at his wife not to take pictures of him. "Please, send me the link."
"Sure." I stopped the video. I never expected to get such a clip from Ms. Dis Lee of all people.
"And we have a parent," Mike started clapping. "Prepare to get calls any time of the day and night."
"Eh?" I gave my phone to Alice so she could add herself to my contacts. "What's that?"
"Parents are unicorns that are obnoxiously close to their virgins," Carla explained. "Female, successful, authoritative, slightly aging, but not middle aged, and without children."
That description matched Ms. Dis Lee to a tee, possibly with the exception of the last part. There was no way for me to know whether she had children. Keeping in mind the lack of photos in her office it was more than likely.
"They tend to seek out new graduates to 'adopt' and keep them on contract for as long as possible," Carla went on. "That's why we call them 'parents'. Best text yours that you're doing fine or she'll keep spamming you."
"You know what you should do?" Mike asked. "Quit. It's not worth it. Get into the call business. That's where the real money is."
"Here we go again." Carla rolled her eyes.
"I'm serious!" The babyfaced wouldn't stop talking. I'd known him for less than ten minutes and I already suspected he was high. "Look at you! All dressed in those suits, getting five hours of sleep, and for what? Ten hours of stress? I work from home in my underwear and I still make twice as much!" He waved to the barkeeper to bring him another drink. "Calls are where it's at!"
"Like a sex line?" I snubbed him. It was obvious him and I wouldn't get along.
"Do you know how many unicorns want to hear a human?" He ignored me. "Thousands! I'm not talking scared tourists who want to hear someone tell them they'll be fine. Think pen pals, think social networks!"
"There's such a thing?"
"HummCall." Alice gave back my phone. "It's this big idea about unicorns getting to talk to humans between worlds. You get paid based on call length and customer satisfaction. Mike thinks it'll become the next virgin Uber." She didn't seem at all impressed. "You can download the app for free."
"It's ten times better than kissing hooves in the U.N.!" Mikes was getting a bit loud. "Or horsing around with tourists. Try it out, you'll see!"
"Mike, if it was legit, then why—"
"Well, well, well," a mocking voice cut Alice short. "If it isn't a pack of virgins."
I froze. That wasn't a phrase I wanted to hear.
3. Minor Scare
Constant caution. Those words were an integral part of a unicorn interpreter, from the first day of Virgin School to the end of our contract. Until now I’d never considered them as anything but an annoying phrase the instructors would repeat in class. Right now I wished I had paid more attention.
"How's it going with those pink cards?" the voice behind me asked.
Instantly I grabbed my credit card from the table and hid it in my pocket. For several seconds I remained still, looking blankly at the air in front of me. The seconds passed like hours, each making me anxious than the last until I could take no more. Throwing caution to the wind I turned around. What I saw was nothing like what I expected. A trio of jocks stood a few feet away—greasy hair, college jackets, cheap golden-plated chains dangling from their necks. Lurkers, all three of them. My instructors described them as an interpreter’s only natural enemy in today's virgin-based society. For the most part my instructors weren't wrong, though lurkers were for the most part a nuisance than anything else. I'd lost count of all the times they’d find excuses to passively sit nearby in the hopes they a virgin would miraculously fall for them. These three here were anything but passive.
"What'ya say about having some fun?" The leader of the trio, a false blond with piercings on the nose and ears, raised his brows up several times. "You've no idea what you're missing."
"Eat shit, lurker!" Mike gave him the finger. I braced myself. This was the worst way to handle the situation. Every virgin knew never to provoke a lurker. Every virgin except Mike, apparently. "Go lick your monitor in the shithole you call home."
I could see something in the lurker’s mind snap. For a split second his expression froze, like a storm gaining strength, then twisted in rage as he rushed towards us.
"You calling me shit, pinky!?" The lurker snarled in Mike's face. My self preservation instinct took hold. Snatching my bag, I stood up in an attempt to squeeze past, like a cat through a kitchen window. The other two lurkers blocked my path. "You think you're better than us? Do you? You virgins are the scum of the earth. Stupid as fuck! You have a pink card, so what? You get to talk to fucking horses! Too good to work like the rest of us?"
My heart was racing. The only thing I wanted was leave this place as quickly as possible; at the same time I was afraid that any action might attract attention to me. Alice was taking it far better than me, sitting there, her eyes half closed in a mixture of annoyance and disgust.
"So you want to settle this?" the lurker asked. Despite being high, Mike must have realized he stood no chance against someone twice his size, for he didn't say a word. "Thought so," the fake blond laughed to his friends. "So, ladies, how about a night out with some real men?" He turned to me so close I could taste the smell of his breath.
"You sure about that, sonny Jim?" a deep voice asked. A few tables away, a massive black man in a grey turtleneck stood up. He was slightly greying, way past his thirties, with enough muscles to take a carry a bike under each arm. "Fancy you settle things with me?" he asked in an accent that ranged somewhere between English and Australian, quite similar to a Trottingham client I once interpreted for.
The trio of lurkers looked at each other. One raised his hands with a shrug asking "what the hell?" The answer was swift. The large man reached into his back pocket, took out his wallet, then opened it revealing a magenta credit card.
"The fuck?" The lurker leader voiced the exact thoughts I was having.
Never would I have taken the man for interpreter, let alone an active one. He was one of those people who one would swear was married and had at least five children.
"You okay, loves?" He asks loudly enough for half the bar to turn our way. Now it was the lurkers' turn to feel threatened. Stepping away from the table, they gave Mike a threatening glare, then rushed out.
"Scare attempt." Clara whispered patting me on the shoulder. "Whoever hired them was either dumb or desperate," she continued casually, as if it was just another evening.
"Nah, I think college kids on a dare." Alice waved to the barkeeper, then pointed at the table at which our colleague was sitting. I suppose it was only proper of us to treat him after what he did. "Anyway, now that's over I'll get us another round. Mike, will you stop acting as if you want trouble," she sighed.
"I could’ve taken then," the babyface said, still glancing at the door every now and again. With his frame, if worst had come to worst he wouldn't have lasted five seconds. "Bet they were trying to scare me off. Isn't the first time. They've tried to sabotage me too."
"Sure they have," Alice agreed, giving me the universal "paranoia" sign while he wasn't looking. "Those fashion models totally were here to ruin your business."
"I'm telling you!" Mike said, as the barkeeper arrived bearing new drinks. "Someone's out to get me. There's an information war going on and I happen to be smack in the middle."
"Sure you are." Alice raised her glass towards the man who had saved us. The large virgin raised his glass in return. "So, Katie, what will you be having?"
"I think I've had enough excitement for one night." I would give anything to be safely in bed right now, going through the boring documents that Ms. Dis Lee gave me. "I think I'll be off."
"Can't blame you," Alice whispered, while Mike was going on a rant about conspiracies and sheeple. By her expression, I could tell this was something that happened a lot. "Let me fetch a cab for you." She reached for her phone.
"No thanks, I'm good." Virgin one-o-one: never let anyone else fetch your car. Drinks were one thing, but I didn't know Alice well enough to trust her to such an extent. "Was fun meeting you, guys." I flashed my best smile as I stood up. "Catch you again sometime."
"Ciao," Alice waved. "I'll take care of the bill. You have my contacts. Text me anytime."
"And don't forget to call your unicorn," Clara added. "A few more hours and all hell will break loose."
I gave a fake laugh then left. Maybe I should have thanked the interpreter who helped us as I passed by his table, but my mind was on other things. Business deals, sabotages, scare tactics... this wasn't what I imagined being an interpreter in the big city would be. I'd heard about the dangers, everyone in Virgin School had, but they always seemed so theoretical... until now.
"Cool going, Katie," I whispered under my breath. "One day on the job and you're falling apart." I took out my phone and started my Uber-Priority app. On reflection I should have done that while still in the pub. Thankfully, the lurkers weren't anywhere around and the streets were pretty empty.
Car available in 2 minutes. Red Audi, plate 7465. Driver - Patricia Kevin. Virgin Certificate driver. The message flashed on the screen of my phone. Two minutes. I would have preferred it to be sooner, but it was still acceptable. At least this way I could send a text to Ms. Dis Lee. Phoning her was also an option, though one I preferred to avoid at this point.
Poor stallion :) I started my text. At least his wife found the kitten funny.
I wondered whether I should add anything about the the virgins I met, or the lurker incident. Based on what I knew about my employer that would probably lead to more questions. In the end I added a See you tomorrow. and tapped send.
My ride came half a minute earlier than expected. Virgin Certificate drivers did that often, in the hopes it would earn them an additional start. In this case, it was going to get her a positive review for sure.
"Any chance you can get there fast?" I asked as I jumped in the car. "It's been a long day."
"Ten minutes?" She glanced at me, while changing the settings on her route finder app.
"Ten is fine." I closed the door and put my seatbelt on. Ten minutes was plenty. "Can we have some music? Anything light." I closed my eyes as I leaned back in the seat. The only thing I wanted right now was to put this day behind me.
"We'll be there in no time," my driver said as the tune of Orinoco Flow filled my ears. Soon I was going to be home.
4. The App Call
By the time I arrived at my apartment complex I could barely keep my eyes open. I yawned and glanced at my phone. She had taken eleven minutes and change to get here.
"Need help to the entrance?" Patricia offered.
"No thanks, the place has a concierge," I declined. The least I could do was walk into my own home. "Kind of you, though."
"Sleep well, hun." She turned back to the stand with the tablet. "Star fifty seven if you need me again for the morning."
I muttered another thank you and pulled myself out of the car. The experience was so unpleasant that I wished I had asked the Uber to take me to the other side of town and back. Already I was starting to regret declining her offer; I even thought of changing my mind when the car left, probably heading to her next client.
Too late now. I sighed and walked forward.
The apartment complex was almost completely dark, which was hardly surprising since I was one of only eight occupants. Barely completed, it was part of the new wave of virgin housing that was suppose to sweep over the eastern states. At least that was the claim. Three years ago, the powers that be decided to stop buying hotels and renovating old buildings, instead building complexes suitable for our needs. Virgin housing—a presumptuous name for a glorified college dorm. Yes, it had all the comfort and security a virgin could need, but was less than a quarter of my parent's house. One giant room that served as living room slash dining room slash kitchen, a tiny bedroom, and a bathroom barely eight square feet: just enough for a single person.
According to the brochure, unicorn magic was used during the construction of the buildings. With these rent prices I wouldn't be surprised. If it weren't for the generous accommodation allowance provided by my contract, I wouldn't be able to afford half a month's rent.
Upon reaching the entrance, I pressed my credit card against the lock panel. There was a buzz followed by a loud click. I pushed the door open and went straight for the elevator.
A few days off, I thought as I pressed the eighth floor button. Right now I felt like I needed a few weeks off. I checked my phone for new messages. There were three, all from Ms Dis Lee. The first two were random small talk, the third wished me a relaxing night, subtly suggesting I look over the best interpreter practices the following morning. The exact phrasing was "don't hesitate to let me know if you have any questions"—direct, while being polite about it. In any case it would wait. Right now the only thing I wanted was to slide into my bed.
Slipping out of the elevator and into my room, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed on the nearest couch. I tossed my bag to the floor, then turned off my phone and put it on the table. The bed was less than ten steps away but I didn't bother going for it; the couch felt just as comfortable.
It was still dark when I woke up. I reached for the phone and tapped to see the time. Half past three—the witching hour, the worst possible time of the night. I tried to force myself to sleep, but the efforts was excruciatingly pointless. After ten minutes of lying on the couch, I gave up and went to the kitchen.
The only thing the fridge had to offer was ice cream and suppression meds—my new staple diet. Right now, however, I didn't feel like resorting to either. Instead, I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down.
"A heck of a first day." I leaned back in my chair.
My mind wandered back to a few months ago when I back home, desperate to escape, before focusing back on my drink. My mother was right when she said it wouldn't be easy. It wouldn't be the first time that a virgin had turned down a major contract for a less significant, and far less stressful, job. Then again, quitting on the first day wouldn't build confidence in any future employer, unless I wanted to become a tourist guide... or joined Mike's phone job. The thought made me smile. Wouldn't that be nice? Talking from the comfort of my home, no stress, no worries, just a pleasant conversation. I glanced at my phone. It was laying on the edge of the table, where I'd left it, reminding me I was supposed to be up in three hours. I watched the minutes pass by, idling away.
I might as well try. I took the phone. The Virgin Free Labour act allowed me to take on additional temp contracts, as long as they weren't in violation of any clauses in my existing job. Since Ms Dis Lee wasn't paying me twenty-four seven, I could do with my free time anything I chose.
I went to to the App Store and did a search for "unicorn chat". The screen filled with shovelware apps—everything from sound bytes to programs that claimed to be able to interpret unicorns for free. On the second row, portrayed by an icon of an old fashioned phone, was the app I was looking for: HummCall by Magic Voice Ltd. The second I clicked Get, a pop-up filled the screen.
Warning! The HummCall service is only available for Unicorn Interpreters. Attempting to apply for the service under false pretenses or with false credentials will result in criminal charges under section 12.B. of the International Virgin Penal Code.
Do you want to proceed?
This was unexpected. I had no idea what section 12 was, but since it didn't apply to me I tapped on the okay button and waited. A few seconds later the app opened, requesting access to my location and phone contacts. I denied it on both accounts, only to proceed to the login screen.
"Username and email," I whispered to myself as I gave my spam address and typed in Puppy as my user handle. To my surprise the name was available. To my further surprise, the app immediately connected me to voice chat.
"Hello, can you hear me?" a high-pitched voice asked.
"Err, yes?" I instinctively tapped on the screen, hoping for menus or buttons of some sort to appear.
"Thank the stars!" A sigh of relief came from the other side. "I’ve just about had it with lurkers. You're not a child, right?"
"I'm old enough to vote." First time anyone had made that mistake.
"And you're a certified virgin, right?" The questions kept coming. "Not that you have to be. You can always use the app for fun, but if you want us to pay you we'll need some details. You know how it is."
"Give me a moment." I looked around for my bag. With the only light coming from the kitchen, it was difficult to spot things. "Can you give me any details about the contract? I mean, this is the first time I've heard of—"
"You pick your own contracts," the voice laughed. "We run things a bit different. I just need some verifiable ID to make sure you're legit. After that I'll grant you access to the system so you can fill out the rest and pick a contract that's best for you. Personally, I'd recommend picking a temp if you already have a job. Much better for everyone this way."
"Okay?" I grabbed my bag and took out the Virgin Card. "Full name or just graduation number?"
"Graduation number will be fine," the voice said.
I dictated the digits. He read them back to me, then asked a few basic security questions—location of the school, time of graduation, my current employer. The tone was quite casual, yet focused enough to show me this was serious. The unicorn I was talking to—I was certain it was a unicorn—didn't waste time with small talk. If anything, he was trying to make sure all my details were in order before he could hurry me along to the next part of the process, whatever that was. Several times I had to repeat my answers, just so he could be sure I wasn’t making things up.
"Okay, all seems to be in order," he said at last. "I've forwarded your okay to the techs, so expect an update in a few minutes. Once you download that, you're set. Have fun."
"Can you just tell me what is expected—" A loud click told me no one was listening on the other end anymore. Half a minute later the red indicator appeared on my App Store icon, just as he had said.
The update took far longer than the initial download. When I restarted the app it was obvious why. The blank screen was replaced by a well designed multi-functional menu. The first step was to fill out everything I had said on the phone, only in greater detail. Once I had finished with my "Human Card" I was offered a choice of contracts, ranging from full time to temp. A full time contract offered a rather comfortable hourly rate, but required me to have no other outstanding contracts. The temp, on the other hand, offered a flat per call rate with the call length being left to my discretion. Since I doubted I would be doing this more than once, I chose temp.
Congratulations on signing a contract with HummCall! You can now select calls to respond to.
Be warned that once accepted, you cannot end a call before 10:00 minutes have passed or the client has left.
Violent, shocking, or inappropriate calls are strictly forbidden and subject to immediate termination and legal action!
They sure don't mince words. I closed pop-up and went to the "Call Manager" section. Three callers were waiting. Before I could even read the usernames one of them disappeared, probably taken by another virgin, leaving me with Crimson Indigo and Poppy.
Fitting, I thought as I tapped on Poppy's icon—a musical note on a shield. The chances of finding a caller with a user handle one letter off from mine were too remote to let this pass. As the conversation timer came up, I cleared my throat and waited.
"H-hello?" a soft female voice said. "A-are you a human?"
5. Talks and Dreams
Am I a human? This was the first time anyone had asked me that. It felt strange, but also made feel somewhat special—like a heroine in a fantasy movie.
“Yes, I'm very human,” I replied.
“You don't sound any different,” Poppy said, her reply coming a few seconds later. The call lag was quite significant, which was unusual given the internet speed I was provided. “Is it true that not all humans can hear us?”
She sounded, if her voice was any indication, around my age or even younger. With unicorns I could never be sure. One of my part time instructors in Virgin school was well in her thirties, yet sounded like a tween.
“Yes, only virgins can hear unicorns. I've been told that the rest hear neighing sounds.”
“Oh,” she said. Even with the lag I could hear her voice trembling. “Sorry, this is my first time. Guess I'm not too much fun, huh?”
Definitely a teenager. I’d been surrounded by that particular blend of self-doubt and uncertainty my entire high school life. Using an excuse to lower expectations and at the same time fish for compliments was the oldest trick in the book. I myself had used it hundreds of times. That is before I entered Virgin school. One of the first things they had drilled into our heads was to never act that way when talking to clients. Funny how the situation was reversed now.
“You're fine.” I tried to be casual, but within limits. She was my client after all, in every legally binding sense of the word. “Am I everything you expected?”
“Umm, well.” There was a pause. I looked at the phone just to make sure the connection hadn't dropped. “Kinda? I guess? It's just that I've only seen pictures of humans, so I wasn't sure what to expect. You just sound so… normal?”
Normal. That was the word I used to describe myself in every profile of my social network. It was a safe word—right between being a low self-esteem loser and an arrogant bitch. Having a unicorn describe me in such a way, though, that was completely different. For a moment I felt like in middle school again when I was not cool enough to sit at the popular table. However, as I was thinking back to the awkward moments of my life something dawned upon me: I was the very first human the unicorn on the other side of the line had ever heard.
“Not disappointing, I hope?” I laughed. Two could play the low self-esteem game.
“Oh, no, definitely not.” She took the bait. “I was just…” she stopped again.
My training kicked in. The proper approach was to calmly, but confidently, guide her in the direction I wanted, thus putting her at ease and fulfilling my obligations as an interpreter. The approach was mostly designed for tourists and unicorn children accompanying their parents to Earth. According to the timer, I had fifteen minutes left until the end of my contractual obligation. I had every incentive to stall—minimum effort for maximum effect, as one of the catchphrases went—yet I didn't feel like it.
“Poppy, you don't need to talk if you don't feel like it.” My instructors would have a heart attack if they could hear. “You haven't reached the five minute mark, so you'll get your money back.”
“Won't that get you in trouble?”
“Don't worry, I’m allowed a few flukes before they let me go,” I lied. In truth, I hadn't bothered reading through the contract in too much detail. I assumed the service operated similar to Uber, so I was relatively convinced I’d be safe. “Besides, this isn't my main job. So do what you feel is best, okay?”
“I'll just wait till the counter reaches ten,” she offered. Oops. Did I actually guilt trip her into paying me for doing nothing? “We can listen to each other’s silence.”
“I can talk about myself, if you want?” I lied down on the couch. “I’m fresh out of school, just moved to the big city, got myself a very prestigious job at a very prestigious firm and nearly messed it up on my first day. My boss is quite nice, but I don't think she's the unicorn who would let this pass more than once.”
“Ouch. That sounds rough.”
“I did mention it’s a lucrative job,” I chuckled.
“So you moved to the city all alone? Any significant other?”
“Poppy, I'm a virgin. That doesn't go too well with relationships.”
“D’oh. I'm stupid,” she laughed, not the polite measured laugh I had heard unicorns do, but a real unadulterated laugh. “I knew it and I still asked it.”
“I thought it was funny,” I admitted.
“You're just being nice, but thanks.” Her laughter gradually subsided. “I've still no idea what to do with my life. My sister is pushing me to pick a good university, but I'm not sure. It seems so out there. How did you decide to become a virgin? Stars, that sounds so wrong when I say it out loud.”
Years ago people probably would have agreed. Even now becoming a virgin sounded strange in some parts of the world. I had never given the matter any thought. It had seemed as a golden opportunity and I had taken it, as had many at my school.
“It was my chance to leave home.” There was no point in lying about it. Despite what my parents thought, I didn't see myself having a future there. “So far things have worked out.”
“That's nice.” She sighed. “I’m still making up my mind. Maybe I’ll…oh, time’s up. Thanks for the talk, I guess.”
“You can stay, if you want to.” I was starting to get sleepy. My mind wandered off thinking of cheesy Safety Dance lyrics. “I won't mind.”
“No, I’m good. I was about to go on a stroll anyway. Thanks for talking to me, Poppy.”
“No worries. I hope I got you to feel better.” I used one of the standard phrases. Always end a conversation focusing on the client. Tickle their ego and display the positives. Everyone I know had used this so often that it had become as natural as saying goodbye. Mentally, I had already ended the conversation, waiting for the click so I could try to get some more sleep. Instead, the timer kept on running.
“You have,” Poppy said, to my great surprise. A second later the call was over. I raised the phone in front of my face, but Poppy had left, instead I got my payment notification, along with a five star review and the comment “Caring”.
Thirty seven dollars after deductions. Not at all bad for ten minutes of work. I didn't see myself doing this sort of thing for a living, though. The conversation was a nice distraction, nothing more. I still had videos to watch, documents to read. Right now, however, I had to get some rest. This time I chose to use the bed. The phone went on the table, next to my half full cup of coffee. I’ll clean up first thing tomorrow, I told myself as I yawned my way into the bedroom.
The night was short and weird, full with strange vivid dreams. As always I'd dream about cars and unicorns, a combination I had difficulty explaining. Acording to the support forums, this was a common side effect of the virgin pills. Hundreds of people had them, nearly all of them between the ages of eighteen and twenty five. According to the popular conspiracy theory, the meds were created with unicorn magic, making anyone who took them docile and subservient. A stupid theory, considering that I kept having dreams even after avoiding my meds for weeks.
This time there was a new element in my dreams: a blue scarf floating around me no matter what I did. I could feel something familiar about it, almost as if I'd seen it before. Each time I'd try to catch it, the scarf would flow through my fingers as if it were made of water, then float away only to return shortly after. The cycle would continue on and on and on, until at one point it failed to escape. A deep feeling of dread swept through me, causing everything around to lose color.
“We don't talk about her,” the scarf whispered. “She got sabotaged.”
“We don't talk about her,” more whispers joined in, as I stood powerless in a grey nothingness.
The usual elements of my dream started to vanish one by one, erased before my very eyes. I tried to talk, to scream, but my lips didn't move. Instead, I could only reach forward trying to grab the other end of the scarf.
“Sabotaged. We don't talk about her,” the whispers grew louder. “Sabotaged.”
There was nothing but blackness now, surrounding me on all sides. Only I and the blue streak of the scarf were left.
“Sabotaged. We don't talk about you anymore,” a voice screeched right next to me.
My eyes popped wide open. I was in my room lying on the bed, my sheets kicked to the ground. For several seconds, I just remained there, waiting for my mind to clear up.
Getting up never is easy, I yawned and sat up. From today no more midnight coffee, and definitely no unicorn phone calls. Also, maybe it was time for me to get back on the meds.
6. Brunch at Unicorn Gardens
Shouting. Lots and lots of shouting. That's pretty much everything I could learn from the best practice videos Ms. Dis Lee had given me. I opened another box of crackers and started the next file. This one was titled “Helium Farm Acquisition 2/7.” It started in exactly the same way as all the others: one side would ask a simple question, and the interpreter would translate, immediately after which an obviously controversial question would follow. It was at that point that the attack began in full force. Very clever when one thought about it. Of course, it was easy to appreciate it now in the safety of my home. It was a whole lot different when it was me on the spot.
I paused the video. The interpreter seemed a few years older than me, dressed in an expensive black suit. Was she my predecessor? It was difficult to make out her face at that resolution, but she seemed like someone who knew what she was doing. She kept her cool and the moment she felt uncomfortable she'd ask for a glass of water, or get one herself, effectively deflecting the attack. It was all a hidden game of chess that the negotiating sides played, or rather like a game of bridge within a game of chess. That's something they never taught us in Virgin school. No wonder the turnover among business interpreters was so high.
The more I analyzed the videos, the more I came to certain conclusions. The younger the interpreter, the more the negotiators seemed to target them. By law, harming an interpreter, or a unicorn for that matter, was illegal. However, therein was the loophole. Technically they weren't shouting at anyone at all. Everything said was addressed to the unicorn client, yet at the same time it was also said directly to the interpreter. That way one could easily claim that they weren't threatening the unicorn, since there weren't making eye contact. As for the interpreter, we were reduced to mere “things”. After all, our entire purpose was to act as the invisible unicorn voice. That's why Ms Dis Lee had stressed that I remember that they were talking to her no matter what. I had just been too stressed out to realize.
The oven timer rang. I closed my laptop and rushed to the oven. One of the advantages of being a virgin was that I could buy any food products at any time of day and they'd be brought two hours later to my doorstep. This morning I had ordered all the ingredients to make a meatless lasagna from a recipe I’d seen online.
“Let’s see what we have here.” I opened the oven, hoping my words would serve as a good luck incantation. The last three times I had tried to cook I ended up with inedible sludge that went straight from the oven into the bin. This time my creation at least looked good. I was just about to try a bite when my phone rang.
Just great. I could tell by the ringtone that it was Ms Dis Lee. In theory, I was within my rights to ignore it or later claim I that was taking a shower, but at this point in time I decided against getting petty. Besides, I was in the process of going through the videos as she had asked me to.
Putting on an oven mitt, I took the cooking tray and placed it on the table. Then I grabbed my phone.
“Good morning, Ms Dis Lee,” I said, going to fetch a plate.
“Hello, dear. I hope I didn't wake you.”
“No, not at all.” I held the phone against my ear with my shoulder. “I was just going through the best practices you sent me.”
“That's good, but don't put too much pressure on yourself. Remember, it's a marathon, not a sprint.”
“Yes, Ms Dis Lee.” I put the plate on the table. The lasagna was letting off quite an appetizing smell. It was nice to finally taste something good for a change. I considered even posting some photos of it on my social media outlets.
“Fleur, please,” she giggled. “Stars willing, we’ll be working together for the next four years.”
“Yes, Fleur.” I had no idea what she meant, but it wasn't my place to argue.
“Anyway, I was about to have brunch with friends and I thought about you. Since you're brand new to both the city and the company, it would be a great opportunity for us to get to know each other better.”
Brunch? I looked at the time. It was well past twelve o’clock. Without a doubt she had some ulterior motive, and I only had the option to accept. Unicorns never asked for anything, they simply ordered in a polite way.
“Unless you have plans for the day, of course,” she added, noticing my pause.
“No, no plans.” My morning cooking had gone to waste. The best I could do was to put it back in the oven and warm it up later. “What's the address?”
“Splendid!” she said, and I could almost swear I heard her clop her hooves. “Unicorn Gardens, plot thirty-seven. Be here as quick you can.”
“O-of course.” I nearly dropped the phone. “See you shortly, Fleur.”
Unicorn Gardens. There wasn't a person in the city who didn't know the significance of those words. Fifty square acres just outside town, the area was a showcase of city’s elite. Leased exclusively to unicorns it served both as an embassy and a place where unicorns could perform business and social activities. The unicorn U.N. ambassador had described it as “a home away from home,” and in many ways it was. For one thing, humans couldn't enter the gardens uninvited. No one I knew had set foot on any such estate, and no one I knew would drive me there, either.
It’s just brunch, I told myself. It was difficult to calm down. I felt both exhilarated and nervous at the same time. By any account, this was a huge achievement. For someone such as myself, lacking financial and political connections, it was next to impossible to get such an invitation. At the same time I knew what the consequences would be if I wasn't at my best.
On the verge of panic, I put the lasagna back in the oven, then rushed to take a quick shower. On the way I made a priority request for a new set of clothes to be delivered and ordered a Black Label taxi service. The amount of money both of these would cost me was crazy, but there was no way I was going to Unicorn Gardens in an Uber wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
One minute into my shower my phone rang again. This time it was my parents. Any other day I would probably have picked up, if only to grumble for them not to phone me during work. Instead, I simply ignored them. There were too many things on my mind to bitter with family drama.
The new suit arrived ten minutes later on the dot, just as I was I was drying my hair. I had gone directly for the high profile interpreter set—an elegant, and very pricy, skirt-suit combo in apple ash and an ivory lilac shirt made of synthetic silk. Careful not to cause many wrinkles, I put on my clothes, then shoes in hand rushed outside where my cab was waiting.
“Good morning, Miss.” The driver held the door open for me. I gave him a quick nod as I nearly leapt into the limousine. So much for my day off. As it stood I would have preferred to be at the office.
“How fast can you get me there?” I glanced at my phone. Almost half an hour had passed since my talk with Ms Dis Lee. Even at such short notice this was a lot.
“Do you have a particular plot in mind, Miss?” the driver asked. Unlike me he probably had been to the gardens many times.
“Thirty-seven,” I put on my shoes. Looking at them I had just realized that high heels was probably a bad choice for a garden, but it was too late to go back now. High-heels it was going to be.
“Approximately twenty five minutes, Miss,” he said. “There are refreshments and full internet for the duration of the ride if you require.”
“Yes, sure.” Another half an hour? Fleur was going to kill me. “Are you sure there's no way for us to get there faster? I'll double your fee.”
“My apologies, Miss, but that is against company policy. And even if it weren't, it is physically impossible to get there in less than twenty minutes.”
Dammit! I wanted to scream. One job, I had one job and I still managed to mess this up. My heart was racing like wild. I leaned back and tried to gather my thoughts. If it were just a casual brunch, as Fleur insisted, everything was going to be fine. Yet, I somehow doubted that it was.
I glanced at my phone. There still was the one missed call from my parents and, thankfully, nothing else. With twenty minutes left, I had enough time to phone home and check what was going on. Maybe if I told my parents about my first week here, they would finally stop treating me as a child. On the other hand, maybe it was better this way. They were of the pre-unicorn generations and still found it difficult to accept certain aspects of modern life. It was no secret they weren't pleased with my choice of career. If they wanted to talk, it was probably to convince me to get back home and chose “a proper job.”
Tonight, I thought. I'd deal with them tonight. Until then I had to focus on making a good impression. Everything else could wait.
We arrived before I knew it. The driver didn't say a word the entire time; he was one of those professionals that engaged in conversation only when spoken to. Only once we reached our destination, he informed me we were at the Gardens, helped me out, wished me a pleasant day, then drove off. I was completely alone now, and on unicorn territory. Straightening my skirt, I looked around. Green fields were all around, with a few specially trimmed bushes and trees here and there. The scene reminded me of the Queen of Hearts’ garden in Alice in Wonderland. Hopefully, I wasn't going to lose my head.
Plot thirty-seven. That was what Fleur had told me. The only problem was that there was no way to tell which plot that was. There wasn't a sign anywhere in sight. I took the phone from my purse and opened the Worldmaps app. The moment I did, my screen flickered and went dark. I froze in terror. Because of my unicorn call, I had completely forgotten to recharge my phone. It had flashed a five percent warning too this morning, but I had ignored that as well. Now I found myself on the city outskirts with no means of calling Fleur or getting back home. Just like that one time I had locked myself in high-school with no phone.
“Excuse me?” a voice said behind me. “Are you lost?”
I felt terror and relief combined in one. Keeping a professional appearance, I turned around. The one who addressed me was a unicorn, young, with the most remarkable cyan blue mane I had ever seen. He seemed almost confused as I was, probably a tourist or a family member of someone important.
“My apologies, I believe I am,” I said in my most professional voice. Never smile too much all the training guides suggested. Smiling was for tour guides. Everyone else had to keep a layer of professional coldness. “I am looking for plot thirty-seven.” I paused. “I was invited.”
“Okay.” He glanced over me. “Awful choice of shoes.” He almost snorted. Under the present circumstances I agreed with him completely.
“I am Ms. Dis Lee’s personal interpreter,” I added.
Most unicorns know each other by name. With a presence of a few hundred it was difficult not to. The news outlets went on and on about the number of unicorns that inhabited Earth, but none of them were even close to the truth. Excluding tourists and hoppers, there were four-hundred and fifty-seven unicorn residents across the world, and my employer was among them.
“Oh, you're Fleur’s new voice.” His expression relaxed slightly. “Sorry, I mistook you for a lurker. They sneak on the grounds every few weeks, trying to get selfies with us. It's disturbing. Do you have your ID with you?”
Hands slightly trembling, I took my purse out and showed my virgin card. The unicorn took one long look at it, then waved his head for me to follow. Feeling like a party crasher, I followed. We walked for about ten minutes in complete silence. Every few steps I utterly regretted my choice of shoes. High heels were bad enough; walking on grass made me wish I had never bought that pair. Soon we reached a place of the garden cordoned off by a tall green hedge. The unicorn glanced over his shoulder—probably making sure I hadn't completely ruined the grass—then went to what I could only describe as an arch or shrubbery and walked under.
“Katie,” I heard Ms. Dis Lee’s familiar voice as I walked past the bush. “I'm so glad you made it. I was starting to get worried.”
“My apologies, Ms. Dis Lee” I hurried towards her. “I forgot to charge my phone and—“
“Oh, poor thing.” She cut me off with a smile, casually trotting towards me. “I'll have someone charge it for you. How much did you spend on that?” she whispered.
I felt my cheeks heat up.
“No matter, just send me the receipts when you get back. I'll take care of things.” Fleur glanced at my shoes then chucked. “And please take those off. It's hurting me just looking at them.”
“Ms. Dis Lee?” My pulse doubled.
“Katie, I invited you to brunch because I thought it would give you a chance to get better acquainted with your role in a relaxing stress free environment. I certainly didn't expect you to jump to conclusions and rush here in freshly bought formalwear.” She sighed. “You forgot to remove the tag, by the way.”
Never before had I felt so much out of place. I reached for the back of my collar and tore the tag off. My entire face was burning.
“Katie, would you just look around and tell me what you see?” she asked.
Hesitant, I obeyed. There were a number of unicorns, of course, standing by tables, laughing and joking as they engaged in polite conversation, however, there was something else—people. No, interpreters. I could tell by their reactions that they understood every word being said, what's more they took part in the conversations as well. Unlike me, most were casually dressed—jeans and T-shirts—behaving as if they were at a picnic.
“Those are some of our competitors,” Fleur explained. “Once every few weeks we get together to mingle and engage in casual gossip. A break from corporate war, if you will.”
Engaging in gossip. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. These were unicorns! Each probably owned more money than my entire town could make in decades, and yet they had brought their interpreters without having the need to. It all seemed so innocent, so light hearted, yet deep down I knew it was just a game that everyone played. Or was I wrong?
“Being an interpreter is more than they teach you in school.” Fleur stood beside me. “Just because it’s a job doesn't mean it can't be something more.” She smiled to me. “Now, would you like me to introduce you to the crowd?”
“I'd like that.” You may be right, Ms. Dis Lee. There might be something more, but it still remains a job. “I'd like that very much.”