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900: Ninth day

Despite the upsetting turn of events Barnhart decided he was more comfortable in his familiar role of command.

He glanced at his wristwatch and was surprised to note that he had overslept. The time for both breakfast and chronopting was past. He made himself ready and left the building.

The alien was waiting just outside the door. He looked as if he hadn’t moved all night. Yet, Barnhart thought, he seemed a trifle shorter.

“Are you the Leader?” Barnhart asked.

“I am the Leader. But you are the Master.”

As an officer of a close-confines spaceship that sounded a little stuffy even to Barnhart. The fellow still looked shorter. Maybe they had changed Leaders the way he had been told the night before. Or maybe quronos shrank when left out in the night air.

“Let’s go someplace where we can sit down. And, incidentally, just call me ‘sir’ or ‘captain.’“

“Yes, sir.”

Barnhart nodded. He had been expecting: Yes, Master, I will call you ‘captain.’

But the alien didn’t move. He finally decided that the Leader thought they could sit on the ground where they were standing.