Love_Monkey was not interested in this woman because she was a celebrity. Being a celebrity, even a newly minted one, did not by itself earn one interest from a groksta hostess like Love_Monkey, who by now had even grown tired of A-listers. No, it was not who the woman was, but what she was that fascinated the daughter of Dr. Monsa, the most revered wetgineer on earth.
Love_Monkey opened a blink to her eleven cloned sisters. OMG, you will never guess who just walked through the big doors. Love_Monkey did not wait for them to guess. A camper!
There was a general chorus of chatter back and forth between the sisters, who, although engrossed by their various assignments, were very interested in the news.
Love_Monkey deduced that the camper was disguised because her appearance did not match her expected genotype of blond, blue-eyed bombshell. The rest of her party was disguised too, but such optical veils were of no use to anyone entering House Monsa. Unlike most houses that at most used DNA sniffers to sift through visitors, House Monsa required blood, a miniscule amount collected painlessly as patrons passed their hands over the detector.
What would a camper be doing here? the hostess wondered. She shivered with excitement, looking forward to finding out.
Shortly after the appearance of the camper, another interesting specimen stalked through the door. A seeker, the hostess thought. She frowned. Seekers were rare, but wherever they went, trouble soon followed.
Led by Sweet_Ting, the party ascended a stairway up to a private pillbox that was anchored on the side of the crystalline dro-vine wall. Bright green vines intertwined the pillbox banister, making it look like an elegant tree house. A table resembling black obsidian sat in the middle with several CumfiMoss™ chairs surrounding it.
One of the seats was occupied by a smooth-skinned man with a face that reminded D_Light of a hawk. This bird of prey eyed the party intently, as though appraising how good they might taste. A limestone-faced man in a dark suit and crimson red tie stood at attention and, as the party approached, scooted seats out for Sweet_Ting, Lyra, and Djoser. The nobles took their seats gracefully, their respective bodyguards standing attentively behind their charges. The marbled servant made no motion to seat D_Light or Lily. Sweet_Ting glanced up at them, frowned, and shook her head dismissively.
Lyra smiled apologetically to D_Light and Lily. “I believe the remaining seats are taken,” she said. Her voice was less apologetic than her smile and far more formal than it had sounded during their adventure up to this point. She then added, “Maybe the two of you could find a seat down on the floor or at the bar.”
D_Light turned away and looked down over the expansive floor below. He would have descended the stairs, but the way was blocked by an ascending crowd, so instead he stood at the side of the stairs and waited for his turn. He noticed there was a throng of people on the floor below who appeared to be gawking at him. One of the throng was pointing. He didn’t like that. Perhaps we should go up the stairs instead, he thought.
As she waited for D_Light to move, Lily faced away from him and the stairs and looked toward the table. Lily did not gawk at anyone in particular. She was familiar enough with human culture to know that staring was generally considered rude. Instead, she merely scanned over the guests sitting at the table, taking note of their posture, how they held their drinks, how they held their utensils as they daintily stabbed at colorful morsels of food that she could not identify. She had never been in a groksta before, and there was much to see, so much to learn. As her former employer, Professor SlippE, would say, “Watch and learn, for the most expedient way to anonymity is through imitation.”
Sweet_Ting, however, did not appreciate seeing Lily’s veiled brown eyes sweeping over her party as though she had a right to do such a thing. “Pleb, I asked you to leave,” she snarled. “If you think there is a place for you at this table, then you truly must be a nOOb,” she added with a pretentious chuckle. She then gave a curt nod to her servant, who, without changing his stone expression, set his dark eyes on Lily and withdrew a short-barreled pistol-and then he promptly shot her.
The impact gave Lily a jolt, and she fell back a step. Her illusionary dress and headscarf sputtered and then blanked out, leaving her shimmering skinsuit exposed. A fluorescent pink spatter marked where she had been hit. Lily might have retaliated against her attacker-Todget had taught her several effective defensive moves-but by the time she recovered from the surprise of the assault, the servant had tucked the pistol back into the fold of his suit and had stepped back to his post, arms folded, presumably no longer a threat.
Sweet_Ting turned to Lyra and Djoser and demanded, “My Soul, where did you get that one?” She then looked back at Lily, who was still mulling over what had happened. “Yeah, dimmy, you’re a nOOb and now everyone knows it! You should learn to be where you’re not wanted.” She then let out an exasperated sigh and added, “I mean not to be where you’re not wanted. Like not wanted here in my house.”
D_Light, startled to discover how quickly things had gone downhill while he was not paying attention, put a hand on Lily’s shoulder and whispered near her ear, “You’re fine, you’re not hurt. Just follow me.” He motioned for her to go down the stairs. D_Light then bowed deeply to the annoyed noblewoman and announced, “My lady, my apologies. The pleb does not find herself in civilized society often and-” D_Light’s sentence was cut off abruptly as Lily, her eyes narrowed and her face flushed with rage, grabbed an unattended glass on the table near her and flung the contents onto Sweet_Ting. The noblewoman let out a ragged gasp, her bulging eyes swiveled, and her jaw dropped as though she was witnessing the end of the world. Her hands were rigid and splayed out in front of her.
D_Light stood in shock. “Oh Soul! Lily, what have you done?” Lily did not have time to answer, as she and D_Light suddenly found themselves surrounded by two men and two women with a variety of hipster hairstyles, all wearing identical tight-fitting yellow organic body suits. D_Light reflexively grasped the hilt of his dagger. He would have preferred his throwing discs, but these goons were too close. Somewhat disconcertingly, the new arrivals did not have goon expressions on their faces. Rather, they were smiling-not the kind of smile that said, “We’re going to enjoy beating the living devil out of you,” but regular smiles, the kind friends give each other. D_Light didn’t know what to make of it.
One of the men, an unusually tall and gaunt specimen, beamed at D_Light and Lily and then bowed low. Presently, he spoke. “Begging your pardon, but do I have the honor of addressing Ascara of Hexos and Boobooma of Sanadas?”
Over the prostrating man’s head, D_Light could see that Sweet_Ting had stood up with what force her frail body could muster, nearly knocking over her chair. She pointed at them while speaking, but D_Light could not make out her rage-garbled words. Her servant stood at her side, and his eyes roved over D_Light, Lily, and the four strangers. He seemed uncertain about what to do.
Of course, D_Light instantly recognized the names Ascara and Boobooma. After all, they were the names of the NeverWorld characters he and Lily had used that very morning. Yesterday morning, Smorgeous corrected as the familiar flashed the time of one seventeen in the morning.
“Ah yes, that is us,” D_Light responded to the gracious stranger. “You know of our work?” D_Light could not help but grin as he said, “However, as I recall, those two fine heroes were vaporized by Pheobah the Dark Queen and her abomination of a son, Salem.”
As the tall, smiling man returned to his upright position, D_Light could not see Sweet_Ting’s bodyguard (dubbed “Mr. Personality” by D_Light) or the rest of his party, but Smorgeous, who was near the ground and was able to peer between the legs of the throng, assured D_Light that while Sweet_Ting displayed distraught facial expressions and body language, neither she nor her muscle-bound servant were making any obvious hostile overtures. D_Light was tempted to pipe his familiar’s visual feed into his own, but he decided that he preferred being ignorant behind his screen of bodies. The scene couldn’t be pleasant.