Thing is, I got the feeling he wasn't really kidding. I ate the rest of my breakfast in silence. When we were finished, one of the service bots came in with a stack of papers. "The post, sir," he said, handing me the stack."
"What's this?"
Ralph whistled. "Someone's already popular."
"It's mail," said Lynnette. "Real mail!"
I shuffled through the stack. Mail. It had folded papers and fancy writing. Some had frills cut into the paper, some had ribbons. "What's it for?"
Marlon snorted. "For rich snobs to talk to each other in a way that shows the rest of us who can't afford paper to waste like that just how rich they are."
Christophe reached over and gave Marlon a swat upside the head. Just as cool as you please. I was a little jealous, to be honest. I would have loved to just reach over and swat Marlon a good one myself. "Mail," he said in a completely composed voice, "Is a custom to your class of citizen." Marlon looked like he was going to say something, but shut up with Christophe's warning glance. "They are communications."
"Like messages on my holo."
"Precisely."
"Why didn't they just use the holo?"
Christophe let out a sigh. Reginald pulled me aside later and explained that Christophe is a "stickler for the customs and traditions of the wealthy". Basically, he wants me to jump through the flaming hoops my money puts in front of me. Reginald said it's very important to Christophe, because he grew up so poor and struggled his way to the top. I'd do the silly tasks, but only because I liked Christophe so much.
I looked through the fancy papers again. "How do they work?"
Lynette laughed. "Here," she said, grabbing the top one off the pile. She slid her finger under a flap and tugged, ripping it. I was going to stop her, but then she pulled another paper from inside. She handed it to me. "There. You read that." She turned to Marlon. "I just opened mail!"
He was still mad about the smack, though. "Well whoopdie sh..." He stopped when Christophe raised his hand, just a bit.
Lynette turned back to me. "What does it say?"
"It's rude to read other peoples' mail," Christophe said.
"It's fine," I said quickly. I didn't think he'd give Lynette a smack, but I didn't want to risk it. "It says welcome to Earth and asks me to come to a party."
"Who's it from?"
"I don't know."
"Look at the bottom, silly."
I scanned down to the bottom. "Clarkson Hildegrande."
Lynette squealed and snatched the mail. "Oh my god! It really is!"
"I figured this would happen," said Reginald. "Chris?"
Christophe put his coffee down. "Taken care of."
"Then why the invite?"
"Show."
"Ah."
They settled it between them. I, however, did not. "What's a party?" Lynette gave me the run down. All in all, it didn't sound too terrible. "Then shouldn't I go?"
Reginald snorted. "To a Hildegrande soiree? Over my dead body! We need you wholesome, kiddo. They'll wreck you five ways to Sunday." I had no idea what he meant by that. Later, after I'd attended some parties I wish I hadn't, I understood. Those "high class" parties were anything but.
"I'm guessing there's a lot of invites in that stack," Reginald said. "Lynette, that's your task for this morning."
"I thought she shouldn't read my mail?" I asked.
He waved a hand in the air. "Change of plans. No," he said quickly, pointing his finger in the air like he does when he believes he's had a brilliant idea. "Extension of job duties. Miss Donnely will now act as your personal assistant during your stay."
"My sister is not a secretary." Marlon's voice was harsh and cold. He did not sound like a brat, or someone trying to stir up trouble. I actually respected him then, even though I had no idea what a secretary was.
"It's okay, Marlon. I've..."
"No. You are not a secretary and I won't let them treat you like one." He glared at Christophe. He was challenging him to fight him on this.
"Social liaison," Reginald rushed in before Christophe could speak. "If you won't mind," he said to Lynette.
"I don't mind at all!" She scooped up the mail. "Really, Marlon. It's okay. I didn't have anything else to do this morning anyway. Besides, if the first one's from Clarkson Hildegrande, imagine who else has invited us...him." She turned red and stood. "If Jake doesn't mind me reading them..."
I didn't mind. It seemed to matter to her far more than it did to me. She hurried by, but stopped to give Marlon a kiss on the head. He sighed and stood. "I'll be at my terminal."
The adults did not like the fact that both Marlon and Lynette were starting to see the things around the estate as theirs, too. Me? I loved it. It made me feel more like a friend and less like some overlord. The adults could grumble all they wanted. I fully intended to encourage Marlon and Lynette to help themselves to whatever they wanted.
Everyone broke up and we all went off to start our day. And what long, long day it would turn out to be.
Chapter 11
"So tell me how you're liking Earth."
Colson Pembroke was staring at me with high expectations. He wanted to hear how I loved everything. He wanted me to tell his audience how wonderful Earth was. He wanted to hear how every moment was exciting and every new sight thrilling. And Christophe and Reginald wanted to hear the same thing. I could feel it radiate off all of them, Colson in front of me, and Christophe and Reginald standing behind the camera silently begging me to jump through the hoop.
It was a hard question. I knew the answer they wanted. But I just couldn't flat out lie like that. "It's certainly different from what I'm used to."
Colson laughed. I could hear Lynette sigh. She was allowed to be in the room only when Christophe was sure she was so infatuated with Colson that she wouldn't, couldn't speak. I don't know what she saw in the guy, personally. He looked very silly to me with his silver hair and his sparkling suit. He had something pierced right into his nose, and said these silly things all the time which Lynette later told me was "just how people talked".
"I bet, I bet," he said quickly. That was another thing about the guy that bothered me. He said everything as if there was some time limit I didn't know about. His voice had a hyper drive. "So what smokes?"
See? All the time with the stupid phrases, through the whole interview. No, it started even before the interview, when he stood shaking my hand. "An outie! In the flesh! It's ice, baby. You're absolute ice."
I still have no clue what the man was talking about. Lynette tried to explain, but her explanations were about the same as his words. It all just lead to one big headache. I did my best to guess my way through it.
"Fire," I answered.
He laughed and slapped his leg. "Cool as breeze, isn't he? Icy!" He was talking to the audience through his camera. The lights made his sparkling suit shoot flashes of bright daggers into my eyes. My head pounded more.
"Word from the bird is that you had a sit down with the pres."
"Yes. I had lunch with President Norton."
He suddenly got very serious. "Minds of the land need to know." He paused, looked to the camera, then back at me. "Is it a rug or is it real?" He waited a heartbeat, then began to laugh. "I joke. I joke. You must be a little overwhelmed by all this attention."
Now that was something I could actually answer. "Yes."
He laughed again, even though I didn't say anything funny. "And that's all the time we have today. Catch me on the up and out!" His expression froze. I didn't know what was going on.
"And we're out," said the bot manning the camera.
He slumped back in his chair. "Cut the damn lights already!" The bright lights were instantly dimmed and he held his hand out. A bot handed him a drink of something and he drank it and tugged on his tie. "Could it be any hotter in here?" A fan turned on from somewhere. He looked at me and drank his drink. "You suck on camera, kid."