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R eem followed the directions in her head to her office. There was a group of people waiting, and she headed for the door marked Comptroller.

“Get in line.” There was a growl from her left.

She calmly pressed her palm to the bio-lock, and it snicked open. “I could, but we would all be out here for a very long time.”

She walked inside, found the beverage dispenser, and summoned a cup of tea and a glass of water.

Reem moved around the desk and got settled as the visitors filled the room. She looked at the first one, brought up the docket of what needed to be decided, and looked to the shy-looking person in the centre of the crowd. “Name?”

“Aldiat Reno.”

“What do you wish to discuss, Aldiat?”

Reem brought up all of the files and saw that it was a business expansion request. She looked into the buildings, the files, the environment, and the required plumbing for the expansion.

“I wish to expand my bakery and kio shop. I have a business plan and an estimated planning diagram.”

“What will you do about foot traffic?”

“It will bring more clients into the local businesses.”

She looked at the group. “Are there any of her neighbouring businesses here with concerns?”

A male stepped forward. “I have a sleep shop, and the increased scent of kio will disrupt the sleep.”

“What is the price of stronger filters for your shop, sir?”

“What?”

“You sell sleep, so you are controlling the environment. What kind of air filters do you have before you add any of your private scents for the ease of your clients?”

He blinked in surprise. “I don’t have that information.”

“Get it and return here this afternoon. Both of you. Miss, if the price of a year’s worth of filters can be added to your expansion costs, you will be allowed to proceed. If you settle this between yourselves, contact this office to close the file.”

Aldiat nodded, and her neighbour left the room.

A helpful woman said, “Comptroller, you can look up the specs of his unit on the system.”

Reem nodded. “I am aware, but if he lies and lists a more expensive unit, he suffers a fine, and the government can take over his business. Isn’t this fun?” She looked at the crowd again, and one man paled and ran.

Reem was almost tempted to smile. “Next.”

The man who had told her to get in line stepped forward. “I am looking for a new field for one of the new crops.”

“Which crop? There were many imported with the new species.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out some corn and wheat.

“Which do you wish to grow?”

“Both.”

She looked up information on growing corn and wheat. “They favour similar environments, but one is a seed head that needs to be thrashed, and the other is a fruit. Tasty and savoury but still a fruit. Are you growing for experimentation or seed?”

He blinked. “Both.”

She looked through available agriculture lots. “North of the city, plot seven six two one. You have ten days to get the seeds in the ground before the rain needed to grow arrives. Do not mix them. The harvesting is too different.”

He blinked. “You know of these?”

“They are the base for the diets of my people. There are other grains, but these are the ones I grew up on. Do a good job, and I will be the judge.”

He paused. “May I come back and ask about them?”

“Certainly. Your lot is recorded in your file.” She lifted her head to the crowd. “Next!”

Fifteen issues resolved or investigations opened before noon.

She returned to her quarters and had a meal before going back to the office and beginning to ratify some of the agreements she had engaged in that morning.

As people arrived to talk about their logistical needs, she dealt with them, one by one.

Her first day had been interesting, and she wished she could feel it, but it was a solid start to a new life.

Reem assumed that if she overstepped her position, she would get a note or something.

She completed her first week of work, verified that it indicated the office was closed the next day if someone wanted to know, and then she sought out a hairstylist and a manicurist. Her nails were rough.

Her account had enough funds accumulated to do what she needed to do, thanks to the bidding war. She was going to get some hair.

Reem went to the shop that had booked her in for the services she wanted and nodded to the receptionist. “Comptroller Reem. I am here for booked services.”

The receptionist’s markings flared orange. “Comptroller! You are prompt.”

“That is my curse. Shall I leave and return?”

“No, miss. Please. She will be out in a moment.”

Reem stood in her business clothing, a long straight tunic and trousers with businesslike shoes.

When the yellow-marked woman came into the room, Reem waited. The receptionist pointed, and the woman went orange.

“C-comptroller?”

“Yes.”

“Please come with me.”

Reem stepped forward and followed the woman down the hall to a very secure door at the end of the facility.

“We keep this unit here as the overlord bestowed it, and it is extremely costly.”

“It also has a specific purpose which I obviously require.” Reem nodded. “Are you fully checked out on the unit?”

“I have used it twice before with varying results.”

“May I program it? Computers and I get along.”

The woman blinked, and her orange got creamsicle with a hint of green. “You can work the unit?”

“Of course. I am part computer myself, after all. It does make people a little ill, so I thought extruding hair would set folks at ease.”

“You aren’t a bot?”

“No. Just a Terran whose brain was split and repaired.”

To Reem’s shock, the woman collapsed to the floor and bowed several times.

“What are you doing?”

“You have seen death and returned. It is a status to be honoured.”

“Oh. Yes, I have. But I came back without feeling, so I live by social direction, and social direction says that you should not be on the floor.”

A bright pink came up, and she stood. “I will watch you and correct you if there are any settings that are not precise.”

Reem nodded and went to the control panel next to the chair with a lot of neck support and an entertainment screen above.

She requested colour-changing nanites calibrated to her biology and hair to her waist. She made note of the medical appliance, and the scanners were set to map her twice before they started.

Her stylist blinked. “That was so fast.”

“It’s just programming.” She settled in the chair and said, “Can you press go for me?”

The woman nodded and pressed the activator.

Reem sat while the unit mapped her hairline and the edge of the implant. When it started to extrude hair, follicle by follicle, she remained relaxed and went over the following day’s schedule, doing research and calculating actions on previous requests.

By the time the two hours had passed, she had worked through arranging her roster for the next two weeks. The machine simply withdrew silently, and she sat up, pulling a hank of the black stuff over her shoulder. “Marked for death still. Ah, well.”

Black was the colour of death for the locals. The stylist came in and gasped. “Comptroller.”

“Yes, the hair is programmed, but it seems that the problem with my emotions is locked in. I will have to try focusing to fake it, or I will be distressing people everywhere I go,” Reem observed.

“Madam, if you knew it would default, I could have put a colour in it.”

“It is a test. When it changes, I will have worked around some of the damage. Until then, I just have to look in the mirror.” She looked at her hands. “Now, I am off to my manicure.”

“I am on your schedule as well. May I ask you questions, Comptroller?”

“Certainly, as long as I get my breaks and cuticles attended to.”

“I can do that, madam, come this way.”

The rest was very much like a standard manicure back home. She soaked her fingers, got a massage, and then each nail was reinforced and enamelled with a blush peach.

The lady asked a few questions about regulations regarding new businesses and what kind of permits were necessary for a salon.

“There are several permit types that are necessary. Traffic permit for staff and clients, environmental permit for any noxious substances, building permit, lighting permit, electrical permit, inspections at three stages of development and design, and an operations permit. It would be easier to get an existing business and buy it out. Find someone who wants to retire and who has a permitted business.”

The lady blinked. “Oh. Can I write that down?”

“When you have a day off, come to my office, and I will go over the options for you.”

“You would?”

“Of course. It’s my job.” Her hair slid over her shoulder as she inclined her head. “Thank you for the service. My nails were annoying.”

“It was my pleasure, Comptroller. Come back anytime. Perhaps when you need a trim.”

Reem nodded and went to reception to pay her bill. It was smaller than she had anticipated. “Why is the bill smaller?”

“Ceo said you programmed the unit yourself, so she was able to take other clients while it worked, so she discounted you twenty percent.”

“Make a notation as to the reasoning. I do not ask for discounts.” She paused.

“And add an additional twenty percent to the bill for her directly. It is the custom of my people to reward good service. She did not injure my cuticles and repaired the cracks in my nails with skill. So, a bonus is offered.”

“It is not our custom.”

“Very well. The funds were offered.” She nodded and caressed the pay plate. “Thank you for your service.”

She turned and walked out of the salon, feeling better about the appearance of her hands.

She returned to her apartment and played vids on the link in her mind.

Now and then, she admired her nails. She had a fresh outfit ready, and work tomorrow would be interesting.

She had gone from a bald alien to the embodiment of death. She was bound to raise eyebrows.

The room was still, and she looked around. “Next.”