"Okay, Chris. So how do we play it from here?"
"As we planned. Cool. Calm. Direct. Marlon, a little attitude from a techie is expected. Go ahead and be your egotistic self," Marlon gave a comical little bow, "but no anger. We do not want them to believe any in the group has fractured." He began to give everyone amended instructions. Jillian was to ramble about fashion. "It will annoy them and your interview should be brief." The doctor was to stress the most technical aspects. "They will tire of the science, if they even bring you in at all." Ralph was supposed to be very military. "Cut and dried, just like the old days."
Ralph snapped off a salute. "Yes, sir!"
Christophe nodded. "And you, Jake. You act overwhelmed."
"I am overwhelmed."
"Then they'll believe every word, won't they?"
The door opened then and Lynette stormed to the row of chairs looking furious. Before she could say anything, they called Marlon, just as Christophe anticipated.
"Later, losers," he said, trying to sound tough. I could see how terrified he really was. He even glanced back at Lynette, looking for support. She gave him a little nod, and as soon as the door closed behind him, she let out a streak of curses.
"I'm sorry I ever came back to this stupid rock!" She ended her rant with a loud sigh and sat back.
"Feel better?" I asked.
"What did they ask?"
Lynette looked to Christophe. "All their questions were about my contract. 'Servitude', they kept calling it. Except the fat ass with the stupid hair. He outright called me a slave."
Jillian gasped and moved to sit next to her. "Oh, dear..."
"What else?" asked Christophe.
Lynette shook her head. "That was it. Only questions about that. Nothing at all about Jake, though the witness booth is a quarantine unit."
"That's preposterous!" said Dr. Karl, outraged. "We've followed the sanitary guidelines to the letter every step..."
"No one is questioning your protocol," said Reginald quickly to soothe the doctor.
"It's intimidation, that's what it is," said Lynette bitterly. "They wanted me to look and feel like trash."
"Why would they do that?" It didn't make any sense to me.
"To make us look bad on every level," said Reginald, before he jumped up and started swearing to himself. "What more do they want from me?"
His yell echoed in the room and no one moved for a few seconds. It was a very good question.
"Lynette," said Christophe eventually. "That is all they asked about?"
"Yes."
"And how did you answer?"
She looked hurt by the question. "What's that supposed to mean? They asked and I answered. Honestly. And with devotion to StarTech, if that's what you're getting at. I know who feeds me. I wouldn't forget that."
"You make it sound dirty..." Reginald began with a groan.
"No. Just honest," Christophe said. "I'm sure you did a fine job."
Lynette snorted and crossed her arms. "Do I get a ticket to Utopia yet? Because the stink of this place is a memory I'm done with."
Jillian stood up and gave me a look that told me I better get off my butt and get over there and offer the poor girl a little comfort, young man. I did just that. Or tried to.
"Was it really that bad?"
There were tears in her eyes. "Yes," she said quietly. "It was that bad. At least I'll be in the damn paper." She looked directly at Reginald then. "There's got to be press from every paper, news center, and holozine on the planet in there."
I had no idea what to say. No one else did. All the adults looked away uncomfortably. Her story, the one that hurt her so bad she barely talked about it, would be open for everyone on the planet to read. To hear. To know. I was furious on her behalf. I took her hand, and held it even when she tried to pull it away. After a second she stopped trying and held mine back.
We waited silently for Marlon. Long minutes ticked by until nearly an hour had passed before he burst through the door, grinning and strutting and being as loud as he pleased. "I dare you to print half of what I said!" he bellowed over his shoulder. The man who ushered him almost actually steamed with anger.
"Jillian Michaels!" he snapped.
Jillian sighed. "Oh, Marlon. What did you do?" She bustled forward, trying not to make the man even angrier.
Marlon sat on the other side of Lynette. He glared at my hand until I let hers go, then gave her a nod. "I gave it back good."
"Oh, hell," said Reginald wearily.
"Mr. Donnely," Christophe began.
Marlon cut him off. "Oh, can it, Venderi. You saw how upset they made my sister. I'm supposed to take it?"
"What happened?" Reginald asked in a tone that said he really didn't want to know. He reached in his pocket and took out a small vial, then swallowed one of the pills he took out of it, and rubbed his eyes.
"I'll tell you what happened. They're trying to cut us off at the knees because they know they have nothing to work with, that's what. I was in there not two minutes before it hit me that every question I was being asked was personal. Nothing about my work, mind. Nothing about my job. Or my observation of space monkey over there. It ain't about him, Christophe."
"No, I suppose it's not."
"Asked about my folks, my 'servitude'. I shut that down fast, I tell you."
Lynette looked surprised. "You did?"
"Hell yes I did. Jeez, Lynnie. What I gripe about to you and what I'll say to those jack asses...two totally different things."
"I'm honored by your consideration," Christophe said blandly.
Marlon shot him a grin. "You should be. And I mean that. Because what I could have said..."
"But what did you say?" Lynette said, trying to keep him from getting himself in trouble.
"I kept shutting them down. Every time they asked about the terms of my contract, I told them to look at the file. They have it. They have all of them. They pressed. They started asking about Mom and Dad." Lynette grabbed his hand. "And I kept telling them to read their own paperwork, my time is far too valuable to waste on things they can look up for themselves."
"Good."
Christophe agreed with Reginald. "Well handled, indeed. Was there any mention of your recent projects?"
"No. Not the Qitani crap, anyway. There were a lot of questions about the latest HuTA updates, though."
Reginald frowned. "Why would they care..."
"To cut us down, any way they can." It was Ralph who answered Reginald's question. "They think we're brainwashing the kids."
"That's...that's..."
"A brilliant way to control the entire population," finished Ralph. "Which is what they've been saying since long before you were a twinkle in your daddy's eye. Hell, since before your daddy was a twinkle in Justin's eye. His real one, not the bot of yours."
Reginald sat back and ran his hand through his hair. "Why now?"
"Because we're so close," said Christophe.
"I told them in no uncertain terms that we've hid nothing about the HuTA project. I even bellyached good about all the extra work it takes on my end to make sure they know every single thing we do with them."
"Good!"
Marlon actually looked pleased with the praise. For someone who claimed not to care about anything, Christophe's opinion of him sure seemed to matter. He beamed and kept telling about all the ways he "stuck it to 'em". "I don't think they got one usable statement from me," he said when he was done.
Lynette laughed. "I guess you're good for something after all," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek and tousling his hair. He smiled sheepishly and looked like a kid for a second.
Jillian returned. She hadn't been gone even five minutes. The man called Dr. Karl next. He looked much more calm, but shot a glare towards Marlon before the doctor joined him.