“I’ll be talking to your boss, young man, about scientific methods and ethical treatment of minors as subjects,” Mr. Pheriss concluded as he ushered his unwelcome guest out the door. “I will indeed. Can’t have the sample ruined, now, can we? I might even mention what I think of the sort of bottom-feeding, slime-sucking scum dogs who would frighten small children. But if you leave quietly, I might keep that to myself.”
When DeWitt, wrath lighting his dark eyes, had departed, Mr. Pheriss called out, “Well, you might as well get out here, Jessica. And that young man, too. Before your mama gets home for dinner, we’re going to have a scavenger hunt to make sure our fine visitor didn’t leave behind any other devices. Always pays to play it safe, at least that’s how I see it…”
Jessica barreled out of her concealment and hugged her father. Anders followed more slowly, thinking hard.
Now I think I understand why—despite needing to move all the time—this family works. When it all comes down to it, they can count on each other. Here I’d been pitying Jessica, but now—Now I think I actually envy her.
* * *
The Charleston Arms was the fanciest restaurant Stephanie had ever seen. In fact, it was fancy enough to make even her a little nervous. Her mom had insisted that she pack at least one “good outfit,” although Stephanie was always most comfortable in the sort of clothes better suited to knocking around the bush. At the moment, she was glad her mother had been so inflexible on that point, but she was pretty sure her notion of “good outfit” fell a light-year or so short of the Charleston Arms’ standards.
She knew from her own experience on Sphinx that newly settled worlds tended towards lower buildings, without the hundreds of floors a proper tower might possess, but the Charleston Arms was ridiculous. Set in the midst of its own four-hectare expanse of meticulously landscaped grounds, it favored what its public site had called “neoclassic architecture,” although Stephanie couldn’t quite figure out which neoclassic style it had followed. It was no more than three floors tall, its roof was covered in red tile, its walls were made of native Manticoran granite, and its façade was fringed with tall, fluted columns whose bases were almost as thick as Stephanie was tall. It was the sort of place which simply reeked of wealth, power, and prestige, and despite the imposing sweep of its clear, clean lines, something about it set her teeth on edge the instant she saw it.
Probably just the fact that the people who run it won’t let you bring Lionheart, she reminded herself. So remember to be polite!
The incredibly superior live human who insisted on opening the taxi’s door as if Stephanie and Karl were incapable of such a complicated and demanding task managed—somehow—not to sniff audibly at their ragamuffin appearance, but it was obviously hard. She retaliated by smiling up at him sweetly as he escorted the two of them up the broad, shallow steps into the restaurant proper. She couldn’t decide if he was more worried that they’d get lost or that they might decide to steal the antique doorknobs if he didn’t keep an eye on them.
The interior had exactly the sort of wood-paneled walls, polished marble floors, and ever so quiet and discrete background music she might have anticipated, and she found herself beginning to wonder just how much she could possibly have in common with the Adair Foundation if this was where it regularly held its meetings. She was just beginning to think about beating a strategic retreat to the taxi when someone called her name.
“Stephanie! I’m so glad you and Karl could join us tonight,” Gwendolyn Adair said. She swept across the gleaming stone floor towards them, tall and beautiful in a “casual” little gown which had probably cost more than the Harrington air car, and smiled hugely. “I’m sorry you had to come by taxi. If you’d screened me the Foundation would’ve been delighted to arrange to have you picked up.”
“We managed just fine, thank you.” Stephanie smiled again, politely, though she was tempted to point out that she and Karl were perfectly capable of finding their way around the Sphinx bush on their own. The terror of finding an air taxi was probably something they were prepared to face when they absolutely had to.
“Well, now that you’re here, let me show you the way to our dining room.” Gwendolyn wrinkled her nose with a charming little smile. “Personally, I think they were a little too concerned with making certain people would be properly impressed with the establishment’s grandeur when they built this place. You need GPS just to find your way around inside it!
There was so much rich amusement in her tone that Stephanie found herself smiling back at her again, much more naturally this time. She glanced up at Karl and saw him smiling, as well, as Gwendolyn somehow made their escort/keeper disappear without saying a word. Then she turned and led the two of them across that sea of polished marble, through an arch, down two flights of shallow steps, around a corner, down a hall, up a flight of steps, through an atrium with its own private grove of exotic ornamental trees and flowering shrubs, past a koi pond, and—finally!—through another door into a cozy little dining room which probably couldn’t have seated more than three or four hundred of Stephanie’s closest friends.
It was a journey which could make even Stephanie feel more than a little out of her depth.
Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over a small, beautiful lake on the restaurant’s grounds, and the setting sun hung directly above it, pouring down a rich, golden light. A lectern had been set up at one end of the dining room, forming a small, bare island among the ice floes of tables draped in white linen tablecloths and glittering with silverware and crystal glasses. A couple of dozen people were already present, waiting for them. The attendees seemed almost lost in that enormous room and (she noted glumly) just about every one of them was as elegantly dressed as Gwendolyn.
“Hey, don’t sweat it,” a voice said very quietly in her ear, and she glanced up from the corner of her eye as Karl smiled down at her. “You’re the one they’re all here to see and listen to, Steph,” he added, and gave her shoulder a gentle smack.
She smiled back up at him, then turned and followed Gwendolyn calmly out into the banquet room’s splendor.
* * *
“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” Gwendolyn Adair announced the better part of two hours later, “it gives me considerable pleasure to present Stephanie Harrington!”
She smiled from her place at the lectern, inviting Stephanie to join her, and the seated diners applauded enthusiastically as Stephanie rose. The introduction wasn’t strictly necessary, given the fact that she and Karl had already been introduced to a seemingly endless array of rich, aristocratic, and rich and aristocratic people. Still, the applause was heavier than Stephanie had expected it would be, and she felt an undeniable little stir of pleasure as it greeted her. At the same time, she felt a matching irritation that she was the only one being invited up to speak to them. Karl had been just as involved with the SFS—and with protecting the ’cats—as she had, but the Adair Foundation (just like everyone else in the Star Kingdom) seemed fixated on the drama of her original meeting with Lionheart.
Well, the “original meeting” they all know about, anyway, she corrected herself, remembering a thunderstorm and a small celery thief in the rain.
The applause continued until she joined Gwendolyn on the small stage, then died away, and Gwendolyn continued.
“I know all of you are familiar with the news reports about Stephanie and Lionheart, and I’m sure all of you are as irked as I am that he couldn’t join us as well tonight. However, since you do know the public parts of their story, I think we can skip the usual flowery introductions and get right down to the real reason all of us are here tonight.” She looked at Stephanie. “I thought it might be a good idea to ask you to tell us a little about what treecats are really like and then, if you don’t mind, take a few questions from the floor, Stephanie.”