It ended up being more than two hours before the speeches were done, the questions answered, and we were allowed to leave. They'd arranged for luxury transports to take us to the Willard Hotel. The Willard was a massive silver-glass building about a kilometer high, with five segments, each one a bit smaller than the one below, creating a roof deck around the perimeter at the base of each new section. Each segment was a separate hotel, ranging from normal high-end accommodations in the bottom to what I can only assume was an unimaginably plush section for VIPs at the top.
The Willard appeared to be one of the three or four tallest buildings in the DC sector of Wash-Balt, which was a jungle of skyscrapers connected by monorail systems at several levels. The transport vectored toward the hotel and, to my surprise, moved to the level four docking area. Not quite the top, but much higher than I'd expected. Apparently I was more useful to the politicians now as a decorated major than I was when they expelled my whole family out into the wastelands to die.
Sarah and I sat next to each other, but we were mostly silent. Being back on Earth wasn't easy for me, and somehow the hypocrisy of being treated like some sort of VIP was making it worse. I'd seen the ugliest side of this society - did they really think a little luxury was going to make me forget it? Sarah was just as quiet as me, and I suspected that she had her own demons to confront. I hadn't told her much about my childhood, and she had been just as stingy with details about hers. She was five years older than me, and I knew she had made two small assaults before she was transferred on the basis of aptitude testing and put through medical training. But that is about as far back as my knowledge went.
After the transport docked we were ushered into the hotel lobby and met by the concierge staff. They welcomed all seven of us, and gave us small pocket-sized devices - portable AIs that would assist us during our stay. If you forgot the way to your room, you could just ask the AI. Want a cheeseburger and chocolate cake at 3am? Just ask your AI to order it for you. Apparently, we had very few spending limits and could order whatever we wanted in the way of food, entertainment, and services. Within reason, I suppose, though I wasn't planning to test the limits.
By the time we got to our rooms, it was around 10pm, and we were all exhausted. They put me in a suite bigger than my family's apartment had been. I was just about to ask my AI for some advice on ordering dinner when I heard the door chimes. I started to get up, but before I could, the AI asked me if it should open the door. I said yes, and it slid open to reveal a beautiful blond standing in the hall.
"My room's drafty," she said with a wicked smile on her face. "Can I borrow yours?" I'm not sure which of us laughed first. She came inside and we ordered dinner. Then we ordered breakfast.
We had most of the day to ourselves. There was a reception that evening we were required to attend, but until then we could do whatever we wanted. So, after sleeping indecently late for serving officers and having what had to be the most expensive breakfast I'd ever seen, we decided to go out and wander around Wash-Balt. It turned out that our AIs could interface with the monetary exchange network and that we had substantial credits to use in shops, restaurants, or wherever we wanted. We took the express lift to ground level and wandered out into the streets.
The area around the Willard was a high-end restricted zone, something like Sector A in Manhattan, and there were nice cafes and stores everywhere. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. I had no idea that people lived like this.
The entire area was divided into sub-sectors, some of which we were authorized to access and some of which were off-limits. We wandered past the entry to the Political Academy Campus, which was a restricted zone we couldn't access, and headed over to the Georgetown Sector, which was adjacent to DC. I thought I'd see if I could find any of the places Aoki had told me about. Actually, finding them didn't turn out to be too difficult. I just asked my AI where they were and it gave us directions as we walked. It also asked if I wanted to see menus, hear reviews, or make a reservation. Hector could have learned some manners from these concierge AIs.
We decided to have lunch at Aoki's favorite burger place. I ordered a pretty basic cheeseburger, but Sarah got this giant bacon-laden monstrosity dripping with melted bleu cheese and some type of sauce, which she ate with such inexplicable finesse I don't think she even touched her napkin.
Our AIs gave us a reminder at 4pm to return to the hotel to get ready for the reception. When I returned to my room - alone, sadly, as Sarah had gone back to her own suite to get ready - I found a valet waiting for me with a brand new set of dress blues. I took a shower, after which, for the first time in my life since childhood, I had assistance in getting dressed.
The uniform was magnificent, neatly pressed and a perfect fit. This was the first time I'd ever worn my full dress uniform with all of my medals and decorations. It was absurd - my chest was a glittering array of various metal and ribbon combinations. God, I thought, I was getting another one of these tonight. Where the hell was it going to fit? I might have to wear it on my back. My sword was so polished it was blinding in the mirror when the light caught it.
Looking at the medals all displayed so prominently, I couldn't help but wonder how many of my troopers had died for each of them. Was a scrap of blue silk and a tiny hunk of platinum worth the lives of ten good soldiers? Twenty? I suppose I should have felt pride at my decorations, but instead they made me a little queasy.
An officer came to fetch me and lead me down to the waiting transport. Sarah was already there, waiting patiently wearing a uniform just like mine, right down to the sword. She was Medical Division, but she had two assaults, and in the Corps, once you are Combat you are always Combat. She looked incredible, coolly professional, yet beautiful. Her hair was braided tightly against her head and she, like I, wore the absurd white hat that was technically part of the marine dress uniform but was widely ignored when one wasn't attending a Presidential reception.
The naval dress uniforms were even fancier than ours, the coats a blue so dark they were almost black, covered with buttons and braid. The pants were bright white, crisply pressed, and tucked into polished black boots. The hats weren't as stupid as ours, though, just a neat beret in the same color as the coat.
On the ride over to the Presidential Palace we were all briefed by a team of protocol officers from the Earth-based military establishment. Yes, that's what I said, protocol officers. I was glad to see that we didn't have anything that idiotic in the Corps and had to borrow them.
It was all such over the top nonsense, I found it hard to pay attention to what they were saying, and my mind kept wandering. Sarah, who it seemed could almost read my mind, poked me in the side a couple times when I really stopped listening. Of course, these politicians thought this was an honor they were giving us, gracing us with their attention. They thought we were fighting for them. I've got news for you, guys. If you were the only thing I was fighting for, I'd give the next Janissary I saw a lift to your house instead of blowing his head off.
The palace was just down the street from the hotel, on the site of the old White House, which had housed the U.S. president a couple hundred years before and was destroyed in the food riots of 2065. It was a massive structure and a testament to opulence. It was a disgusting display when there were people five kilometers away eating rats. The main building was a large rectangle about 500 meters long and 50 high, built of glass and gleaming white marble. Clustered around the main structure were slender towers, each at least 200 meters high.