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.”