No sooner does Jackson leave than I get a call. Even as I’m answering it, Jackson’s office dissolves into cybergray—not even the courtesy to let me walk out the door first. Ferguson must have put the fear of God into him; he’s not wasting a microsecond on me.
I build my office around me before I answer the call. Jackson’s was so depressingly severe and correct that I choose my Turkish Harem Delight motif. It’s well-lit from open-air skylights, filled with white columns, pools, lush plants, and lots of naked women. I lounge on one of the couches, have a maiden feeding me a bunch of grapes, then admit my visitor.
And I thought I was being uninhibited! In walks this belle dame. The white taffeta gown shimmers and hisses, the hair shimmers and wafts in a light breeze, even the floral scents shimmer as she glides across the floor to me and curtsies deeply.
“Jalena LaBelle at your service, monsieur,” she intones in a throaty voice with a French accent so thick and delightful that I feel like handing her a tip and asking for the best table in the establishment. Without waiting for a reply, she rises and looks around my office while waving her fan gently back and forth in front of delicately rising and falling breasts.
“My goodness. Quite imaginative for a brute. But oh, the jaggies are ripping my eyeballs to shreds!”
She’s cyberbeing or slug. They get off on hyper-resolution of the sort she was displaying. I don’t deal with them much. Part of it’s their lack of tact. Part of it’s that they don’t have much to offer me or vice versa.
“Some of us have a life elsewhere, Jalena. This gets me by.”
“Of course, my dear.”
“Speaking of which, what’s brings you here?”
“Our project, cheri.”
“Our project?”
“Yes, item 314. The small bag.”
“What? Jackson said I was researcher on that!”
“Co-researcher.” She smiles and a bit of sparkle appears on those perfect white teeth.
“This is bullshit!” I swat the “grape woman” out of my face and start pacing. “That bag wasn’t enough to keep one person busy more than an afternoon. How are we supposed to keep two people going on this long enough for me to even expense today’s lunch? This is crazy! Jackson’s not living up to his deal; I’m filing suit.”
Jalena looks hurt. The whole face transforms, the fan stops, her breasts heave a sigh. “This disappointment wouldn’t reflect on some personal characteristic of mine, would it?”
“No, your just being here disappoints me.”
“Ah, but cheri, that’s a personal characteristic.”
“But—”
“Jackson made you an offer that you accepted and my being here doesn’t affect what he offered you. So what could be bothering you but some personal characteristic of mine?”
“You’ve been through this before?”
In my voice she replies, “I keep an eye out for these things, and I do what I can to help.”
I count to ten or maybe a hundred. Jackson is playing me right to the edge. I finally say, “OK, you’ve made your point. Now what?”
“Now we should do what we’ve been granted the privilege of doing: Investigating.”