Books And Covers Thereof (1.8)

>Exposit on just what Anlin is the Princess of. Maybe she has some clout with police robots or something?

Kitty considers the possibility, yes...But no, it wouldn’t work.  Not anymore, anyway.  Once upon a time, the Kings and Queens’ word and will was law, and the only law.  Those were simple, more immediately horrifying times, when the Sharks had come from the sea with their superior firepower and weapons, tired of trading and more interested in conquering.  

Kitty recalled the tale of one of the previous Librarians, who was deeply in love with a Shark she only saw whenever the Sharks came by to trade.  One year she became so lovesick that she went out and sat on the beach for three days in anticipation of their arrival.  When she saw the boats in the harbor, she ran out into the water to meet them.  A sniper on one of the boats shot her down immediately, and she sunk into the ocean.  Aside from a mist of blood, she was never found.

Kitty hated that story deeply.  It was often said that Tiger had gotten it the worst during the hostile takeover, and that this was why they maintained a certain independence.  Not that it helped much.

Times were different, now.  The city-state had long since become a constitutional monarchy, with most of the Shark’s self-proclaimed royalty’s power heavily relegated and largely ceremonial.  The police served the People now.  And by the people, they meant the Court.  And by the Court, they meant a small group of lords and ladies from each Tribe and a number of elected officials.  It was, at least, a small improvement.  Except for right now.

>Honesty is the best policy. But screw that, there's a massive robot outside your building. LIE. LIE LIKE YOU'VE NEVER LIED BEFORE (Which you haven't).

She takes a deep breath, away from the phone of course.  Then she answers.

“No, ma’am.  Of course I haven’t.”

“Good.  Then you haven’t nothing to fear.  Please, only call us when there’s an actual emergency in the future.”

“But the princess.”

There was a slight pause on the other line.

“What about her?”

“She’s here.  Inside.  With me.”

“I see.”  There was another long, thoughtful pause.  Kitty twirled her hair, her nerves clinging together in the pit of her stomach.

“I know, uh, that you don’t...I mean, it seems like it’d be important to protect her, anyway.  I mean.  At least for show.”

The voice on the other line appeared to be giving this some thought.  “Hmmm...Nope.  Neither of you are in danger, and you’re a terrible liar besides.”

“Wait!”

“Good day.”  The phone clicked off, and Kitty found herself muttering a string of curses in her first language as she slammed the phone down.

The robot keeps knocking.

.

Maybe she should have told her.  Too late now.

>Let the robot in. Show him the works of Isaac Asimov.

Isaac Asimov...Of course!

As the robot continues to pound a metal fist against the door with increasing force, Kitty dashes down a few sections of books, locating Isaac Asimov’s works and gathering an armful of them at random.  She dashed back to the door.  “Hold on, I’m coming!” she shouts, and the pounding stops.  She slams into the door, pushing it open with her back.

The robot is standing there, out front.  He towers over her, crouching down.  His head bobs upward as she looks up at him.   He seems to be holding a blue police cap in both hands, at roughly chest level.  His big metal fingers rotate and tap at it.

“Terribly sorry, miss,” says the robot, his voice like a man speaking through a radio as he fidgets with his hat.  “Hope you’re not terribly busy.  Ah.  Have you seen a young man running through here?  He looked very dishevelled.  I hate to bother you with this, only I seem to have lost track of him, and if I go home empty-handed I might be disassembled, ma’am.  I don’t wanna be disassembled, you know.  Terribly unpleasant.”

He looks at her hopefully, his red iris zooming in slightly.