Quickly the first interviewer, whose name, I realised, I still did not know, attempted to gain control of the interview. “Your race is not an issue, I can assure you, Mr De'Erebus.”

Simply I blinked and waited for the next question, which came quickly, from the same one who seemed to be racist.

“So how did you end up associated with a man such as-”

“Do you have any other areas of knowledge?” the one with the glasses interrupted him.

“Yes,” I replied, with a nod. “As some of my works that Madam Hera is looking through currently shows, I have skill in general history, early philosophy and sociology. Prehistory is my speciality, however.”

“And have you experience of being a tutor?” Hera said, looking up, her eyes bright. “As in for our more experienced students? Our scholars?”

Those young minds who decided, after their basic studies, to continue on with the potential to one day become lecturers or researchers in their own right.

“I have some,” I regarded her, “and would be more than willing to take some on.”

“With your need for irregular hours, it might work well,” she nodded, enthusiastic, “because I tell you, I am exhausted.” And she let out a light laugh.

I could not help but smile. It seemed that there actually might be need for me in this great rock of a city state. Already I imagined that I would indeed be favourable associates with this Madam Hera, who it looked I would work with, or under.

“With regards to what other work you are experienced in, would it be right in saying that you have ability in research itself. So that any major projects that the university might be undergoing, theoretical or otherwise …”

“I will be more than willing to lend my assistance. When family matters do draw me away in terms of location I do have time in order to continue reading, studying and so on. A mind kept active is a mind in power.”

“Exactly,” Hera smiled.

It seemed I already had her vote. For me, it was the highest praise anyone could give.

I saw the one in who had first championed Morningstar, and had still not spoken since, curl his lip as if he wanted to speak, but he did not. Instead he leant over and quietly spoke in the main interviewer's ear. The man paused, then nodded.

“Unless there are more questions, I believe that is enough for us to consider, Mr De'Erebus.” He stood, and suddenly the interview was over. Placing my hands on the desk I began to push myself up, my eyes glancing over to where Madam Hera was pouring over my work.

He coughed politely. “Hera. Mr De'Erebus is leaving.”

She glanced up at me. “May I finish?”

Pausing, I nodded, “of course. My current address is -”

“Oh I'll bring them to your office,” she smiled, and buried her head back into the papers.

Stunned silence fell like an avalanche. ‘My office.’ That statement presumed I had already been hired, and this was all a farce. In some ways it was - I knew Morningstar had pulled strings to get me this interview. A job had always been something of a certainty, but I had tried to make it clear from the outset that it was what I knew, not who I knew that would get me this occupation.

Quietly I moved away from the table, looking away from them all. I gave a small bowl, as I spoke. “I thank you all for this opportunity,” I said. “I am currently residing at the Lingar Hotel, in Alanawé.”

Then I rose and departed, leaving them all to their quiet world.