Not only had my clothes-iron-scorched acorn salad and steamed elephant steak been sumptuous, but the décor had a definite Pure H flair. The dining room floor was black, toxic osmium tetroxide. The walls were tiled with human baby teeth, and the room was lit with a glass enclosure of glowing-orange molten lava behind.
Once Joelene and I had exited my car, we took the elevator to the three-hundredth floor and we were ushered to a green room. On the screens were a dozen channel feeds. One show was interviewing the SpecificMotor 505 chef. Another channel discussed the restaurant’s design. Many were speculating on Elle’s fashions for the evening. Another discussed and dissected the stolen nude photos of her.
I stood before it all for several minutes and felt discouraged.
Joelene turned them off and then handed me several screens. “I’ve written up some conversation notes for you. Elle is quite loquacious, so you probably don’t have to say much but memorize this. And,” she said, handing me another, “this is a list of the bands she likes and might mention. Below that are the channel shows she watches. And I included a run-down of the fashion magazines she reads. Mostly it’s Petunia Tune, but she also likes CuteKill, Ball Description, and Puffy Fluffer.”
“Those are terrible!”
“Regardless,” she said, “look over the info. I’ll see if I can work out a way for us to get to the SunEcho.”
“Do you think we can?”
She took a breath. “Sneaking out of the MonoBeat, with all the security designed to seal us in, is quite problematic.”
While she returned to her work at her screens, I looked over the dialogue, but it was all just silly references to Elle’s awful fashion magazines. Mostly, I worried that Joelene wouldn’t find a way to get to the SunEcho and Nora.
Soon, my makeup and hair artist, Petra, arrived. She was in her fifties, with bright red hair, wide, luminous sapphire eyes, a tiny blip of a nose, and pouting burgandy lips. As she lay out her tools she said, “I will do his hair, but under protest. This isn’t the sort of thing he should be doing.” Petra glared at Joelene.
“I agree,” she said, “but we have no choice.”
Petra stared coolly at me. I have been so proud of you.” Her lips trembled. “I remember when you danced. You were so good. I watched you all the time. And I remember when the whole world was glued to the channels when you suffered so.” With one of her long black fingernails, she collected a tiny droplet from her left eye. “Unlike so many who were sorry that you didn’t dance again, I loved your transformation. You were becoming a man—your own man.” After shaking her head, her voice got quiet, “But this is a step backward. And it’s heartbreaking. You and Nora looked so perfect together.”
I said, “Thank you.”
Petra picked up her glowing isotope shears. “And I don’t believe that breach for a moment. That freeboot thing is crazy. It makes no sense!” She waved the blades in my face and I could smell their heat. “There has never been a breach of RiverGroup before, and it happens now? Someone was behind it. Believe me, someone was responsible!”
“Who do you think?” I asked, pulling back from her glowing scissors.
“It has to be the other families. They’re jealous of you and RiverGroup.”
“The report established that it was retaliation,” said my advisor. “But we thank you for your opinion.”
“I’m not allowed to speak my mind?” asked my hairdresser. “Is that what you mean? Are you censoring me? Is that what you’re doing?”
“I didn’t say that or mean to imply that.”
Petra turned to me. “This whole thing makes me sick! Now your father has you sniffing the foul and over-exposed rump of this polka-dog! I didn’t know Konrad Kez had grandchildren. I have never heard of Elle before, and I wasn’t happy when I did.”
“We are not exactly pleased either,” said Joelene, “but we are trying to cope. Could we please…” She mimed cutting scissors, but Petra didn’t get the hint.
“I should have gone after your father when I was young,” she said, turning to me again. “I could have seduced him, when I had my full powers.” She shook her abundant chest at me—it sloshed back and forth like warm gelatin. “I would have grabbed him by the ears, and gotten his attention. You know what Hiro Bruce’s problem is?” asked Petra. “He’s so fixed on he has managed to screw it up completely. Someone needs to throw him over their knee and make that ass of his glow in the dark.”
“I agree with you, Petra,” I said. “I agree with you completely.”
Her face bloomed. “Thank you, sweet Michael! You’re a darling.” With that, she worked my hair in record time, applied a tanning solution to my face, did my eyes with a natural shade, and colored my lips. Once she was finished, she kissed me on the cheek, and told me she adored me.
My dresser, Stefano, helped me with my clothes, as he had done my whole life. His eyes were dark and small, his hands were as dry and rough as cigars, and he always called me Master Rivers. As I stood before the iMirrors, he sewed on my underwear, put socks on my feet; helped me into my pants. On top, he put on an undershirt, then a gen-cotton shirt with an attached collar. Once he had gotten it tucked in and secured, he held out the jacket, and I slipped it on.
Mr. Cedar’s suit looked even better now. And it didn’t appear as downtrodden as I had originally thought. There was a power inside of it, as if instead of my body, it cloaked some sort of potent machine. Once Stefano had knotted my tie, he said, “You look excellent, Master Rivers.” Once he had gone, Joelene looked me over.
“It’s one of his best,” she said. Then she got down on the tiles, and scratched at the floor. I watched dumbfounded. It was like she was imitating a cat. She found a trapdoor a foot square and lifted the lid.
I asked, “What are you doing?”
Sticking her hands inside, I heard what sounded like typing. “This building is all about liquid crystal,” she said, pointing her chin toward the back of the room. The light green wall popped as if it were an enormous soap bubble—exactly as I had seen demonstrated when we toured the MonoBeat on opening day.
Behind the wall was a utility space filled with pipes, machines, and bundles of wires. In the center was a tube four feet wide with a giant toilet-bowl-shaped opening and a cut-off valve above.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, afraid was trying to sneak up on us.
“No.” I heard her type again. The wall was restored like a closing camera shutter.
A second later, we heard a knock on the door. “We’re ready for Mr. Rivers.”
My knees felt jittery as I walked down the entrance platform toward the table in the spotlight at the center of the restaurant. It wasn’t because of the spectators in the stands, or the billions of viewers on the channels, or the sad prospect of this ridiculous promotion date, it was that I feared I wouldn’t see Nora because it was too difficult. Joelene had opened the wall behind the green room, but only found pipes, tubes, and wires, not a way out. I hated to imagine that Nora would see the message on the suit, go to the SunEcho, but that I would have no way of joining her.