~Chapter 3~

"Good morning Mister Douglas. How are your observations going?" asked the innkeeper, as she set a plate of eggs and toast down at an empty seat.

"Not bad," he replied, rubbing the bum on his head. It seemed as if every day he hit that stubborn board sticking out from the rafters. "Still working on documenting the wildlife, but it's progressing well. Thank you for asking Mrs. Whittaker."

"Margret is in the back getting the wagon ready to take you to out." The innkeeper was an older lady. A bit on the skinny side with wrinkles around her face, revealing marks of stress from many sleepless nights of work and servitude to her business. The smell of fresh baked bread wafted toward him from her large skirt as she dropped into a chair across from him.

Sloppy hair appearance aside, Mrs. Whittaker did her job well. Most guests were thrown off by the plain dress and apron Mrs. Whittaker wore every day, but that was what Margret was for, impressing and captivating men to stay at their homey and simple inn.

Contrary to her mother, who's graying hair was always tied back in a loose bun, Margret took great pride in her modern dresses and shiny locks of copper colored hair. If asked nicely, Margret would be willing to cut off a small lock to earn the favor of a potential suitor. That had all changed with Douglas arrival seven months ago.

"She's not bothering you with all this talk of marriage and stuff, is she?" she asked, as a mother worried about her child. "Margret does ever so enjoy your company."

"Not at all," replied Douglas with an authentic smile. "It's nice to see someone as passionate as Margret peruses her ambitions undeterred by the obstacles in their way."

Mrs. Whittaker sat up in her chair. "Then you are thinking of marrying her?" she asked in an eager voice.

Douglas shook his head before taking a sip of his tea. "Unfortunately not," he replied, in a gloomy tone. "My ambitions are to document all I can here and then move on to the next town. Hardly a life fit for a young lady such as Margret."

"Oh," she said in a disappointed tone.

"Besides," said Douglas, standing up and donning a long green coat over a graying shirt and khaki pants. "With all of the political unrest in this country, it hardly seems the time to raise a proper family."

As if on cue, a loud rap came from the front door.

"Not them again," groaned Mrs. Whittaker, as she stood up to get the door. "Is it just me, or do they seem to be knocking on our door more frequently?"

Douglas shrugged as she left the room. "They also seem to be multiplying like bacteria, but you don't hear me complaining about it."

As he sipped the last of his drink, he could hear her shouting from the entrance as if she was right next to him. Douglas had heard the same speech so many times before; he mouthed the words alongside her as he prepared for the journey.

"Who do you think you are?" she asked, her powerful voice resonating off the whitewash walls. "Another inspection won't prove anything."

"Then you understand, mum, why you must submit to us," replied a deep male voice. "It's just a routine check to make sure nothing has been missed. You understand right?"

"I understand you've been going through things you shouldn't," she retorted, probably ringing her scarred and rough hands at the guards with merciless contempt. "The last group that came through here left the kitchen in such a horrible state. Took me 'till sunset before it even looked decent."

"Just trying to do our job mum," said another, as his footsteps moved past the threshold to the inn.

Five men appeared at the entrance of the dining room in bright red uniforms. "Search the entire premise," ordered one with an official looking hat. "Leave no stone or plank unturned."

His subordinates saluted and scurried off like starving rodents in search for food. "You," the head of the group stared at Douglas with piercing eyes. "Anything suspicious come in lately?"

A rebellious voice in the back of his head wanted to speak out to these bullies, but common sense won over. Like all the other times before, Douglas shook his head in ignorance. "I've been the only guest here for the past seven months and there's been no added construction to the building since."

"Then you won't mind if we go through your things will you?" The question was rhetorical, but he still put a great amount of effort into giving Douglas a good stare down.

Douglas tried his best not to laugh at the ridiculous attempt to intimidate. Any more intense, and the gaze would be comical. "By all means sir," Douglas said in a calm, collected voice. "I'll be out for a few hours so don't wait up."

While Douglas sauntered to the wagon, he overheard bits and pieces of a discussion as they banged against the walls, looking for the illusive item.

"I heard if we don't find her this time, they'll give up the search for good," said one as he knocked a large mallet against the wall.

"Well, we've been to almost forty planets so far," muttered another. "You'd think because we're looking for a shape shifter they'd have given up earlier than now. Like looking for a black hole with only a telescope"

"'specially if only the Hirabe can see her spectrum."