"Well. Big day tomorrow. I'm going to bed." She didn't even look at me, just stood and left.
See? Most definitely upset. I was dumb and wish I could take it back. I forgot she was indentured. Either that, or I was just a bonehead and didn't put it all together. If she was indentured, then she knew what it was like to be without money, without meals. I don't know how she didn't clock me one.
I watched the neon hubbub alone for a long time. I wondered if one of the buildings I was looking at was a Cosworth building. And if it was, what happened there? I wondered what the next day would bring. We were to go in front of an arbiter of some court...for what? For show, by the sounds of it. I didn't mind that concept all that much, to be honest. They did it on Laak'sa and v-2245. I understood the cultural needs for formalities. As Mother would say, it gives comfort.
I laughed to myself at the thought of Mother. I wondered what she'd point out to me in this nighttime city if she were here. Her imaginary lesson filled my head.
"Jakey, by your observations, what can you tell me about that tall building to the left?"
"Jakey, if you were to walk out onto the street right now, what is the first thing you should do to observe the customs?"
"What do you know about evolution by studying the transport patterns?"
"Is this a hive mentality civilization, or a clan based species?"
"What..."
"Who..."
"How..."
They would have been fired off at me in record speed with barely a breath between. She wouldn't have stopped until she felt I had a basic grasp of the world below.
I missed her, then. I hadn't really missed Mother at all. And yet...
What would Dad have said? Dad would have said, "Look at all those bright lights! I bet these people know how to party!"
I missed them. I was on their planet. Their homeworld. They should have been there, not me. I turned from the window with a lonely ache and climbed into my bed. I wasn't going to cry. I was just going to let it ache. Their lives. I was here looking into their lives. I was going to talk to their people. I was going to live in their house. I was going to spend their money.
And damn it, but they should have been right along with me.
Chapter 9
I stood in my formal uniform. It was still silly, in my opinion, but it was vastly better than the horror Jillian had initially tried to pass off as something we'd actually wear. My hair had stuff in it. I don't know what. Someone who was working with Jillian put it in there. It was smoothed over on one part, sticking up on another, and the back kind of flared in all directions. Both Jillian and the hair-gooper assured me it was "just the thing" to give me "the look". Ralph rolled his eyes, but he really couldn't say much. His hair was gooped, too.
Lynette was in a new uniform. She looked better than either of us. Her hair was also done, but I suppose on a girl, it's different. I didn't feel the least bit like laughing. Marlon was a different story. They made him cut most of his hair right off and dyed some of the rest different colors.
"He's the techie of the group. It's norm." Jillian poohed away his complaints. "Pretend for one day to be fashionable."
The night of sleep did wonders for both Jillian and Marlon. It had given them both back their most annoying traits. Jillian was extra peppy, and Marlon was extra grouchy. The short, colored hair was just the tipping point. He'd already complained about the uniform. It was one rank lower than Lynette.
"But I cracked that fart thing," he insisted.
"Fah'ti," corrected Christophe, looking over Marlon's new look. "And it cracked itself."
"You couldn't have put two and two together if..."
"If Mr. Cosworth hadn't translated it for me." He gave Marlon a look that dared him to push the issue. Marlon's face turned red, but he said nothing else. "Now. The hair isn't my cup of tea, but it is what will be expected from one in your line. You will get used to it. The uniform shows rank. If you want a rank as high as your sister's, I suggest you earn it. Turn." Marlon looked as if he was going to defy Christophe for just a second. In the end, he turned. "Good. Next."
Marlon began a stream of cursing under his breath. Yes, he was feeling back to himself. Lucky us.
Christophe made his approvals. He himself was dressed in, well, perfection. He looked like a holozine pic. Not a hair was out of place, not a wrinkle was in any piece of his suit. He looked like a bot. But he wasn't. He was the only person I ever met who could be both that perfect and real.
"Miss Donnely, an excellent choice on the make up."
"Thank you," Lynette said quietly.
"Change the shoes."
"But it's my uniform," she began.
Christophe held his hand out and Jillian rushed to the case of clothing she had been working out of all morning. She pulled a different pair of shoes out and handed them to Christophe. They were very different. Silvery, with spiky heals. Lynette almost laughed, but she saw Christophe was serious. "You are the cultural liaison. You shall wear some piece of clothing that reflects this. He nodded his satisfaction after she changed.
He assessed everyone, changing this, tweaking that. Jillian sighed halfway through. "Christophe, this is my job..."
"No, Jillian. It's my job." He tugged on the sash around Ralph's waist and gave him a look that said Ralph really should have snacked less and jogged more over the last few weeks. "And if the ax falls, there will be one head on the chopping block."
Jillian looked offended. She thought Christophe was second guessing her, taking over, stepping on her toes. But I got it, I understood. Christophe wasn't stepping on anyone. He was stepping in and protecting them. He gave up on the sash. It was going to wrinkle from Ralph's belly and there was nothing he could do about it. He sighed and came to stand in front of me.
"Jake. You look...common."
"Uh, thanks?"
He almost smiled. Almost. I could feel his tension. He wasn't joking or underselling the importance. The others, they seemed to think it was just Christophe being Christophe. I knew better. I could feel it, that almost inspeaking connection that was tentatively there between us. He was terrified, for the program, for the future of StarTech, for me. I could feel it.
"Yes. It's a compliment. We need you to look common." He wiggled the knot of tassels on my shoulder until he was satisfied with the placement. "You know what to say." It wasn't a question, but the question was there.
His fear was making me afraid. But he wasn't showing it, and I took my cue and tried my best to feel confident. "Yes."
He didn't believe me. I didn't believe me. Hell, I was just a kid. And in that moment, I really felt like one. He gave me a kind look, and then walked to the front of the room to address the group as a whole.
"Each and every one of you has a job to do today. And what is that job?"
"To answer questions," came the answer from Jillian.
"No. To make Jake and Ralph seem as normal as possible. To make the world believe that they are now, have always been, and will always be human." Marlon sighed, and Christophe seized the opportunity to hammer home his earlier points. "Anyone who does not give their all in aiding this mission will be summarily stripped of their title, rank, and position. Is that clear?" He was only asking Marlon for his compliance. Marlon grunted and Christophe knew it was the best he'd get.
"You will not mention other civilizations. You will not mention other races. Should a question about 'aliens' be asked, you will defer to me, each and every time. And you will not cringe when that term is used!" He barked the last line at me. "Aliens, aliens, aliens. That is a word you will hear over and over and you better get used to it. If your anger flares, you are one of them. If you cringe, you are taking their side. You are not one of us." He gave me that look. I felt the seriousness. I didn't even argue. "It's a word, Jake," he said more softly. "It is a word that carries more weight with humanity than you can imagine. It makes you angry? Well it makes them terrified. You will treat it as a word, nothing more, nothing less. You, who they know have met other life, will stand there and be bland. Don't feed their fear. Don't stoke their anger. Don't give them fanciful dreams or worst nightmares. It is just a word, Jake. Don't let it undo us all."