furry, little ear-bot hanging from her left lobe, she looked like one of those flighty, imperceptive, and giggly girls who read CuteKill , Ball Description, or Petunia Tune.
"Don't worry if she looks like more than you can handle," said Father to me with a sly grin, "I've got some fully charged sex-pods you can borrow."
I scowled at him.
After a laugh, he said, "Anyway, you're going to go on a big publicity date with her to get a buzz going, then we'll have you two French or something at the product show. They'll love it!"
My jaw went soft. He was serious. This was his solution. I wanted to laugh at him, or somehow cut his notion in half with one perfect word. But all I could do was imagine Nora floating farther and farther away.
"Michael is devoted to the family and the business," said Joelene. "But he is still suffering from both the trauma of the attack and a broken heart."
"Trauma?" shouted Father as he stood and climbed back onto the stage. "You want trauma? I'll give you a trauma." Toward the back of the auditorium, he shouted, "Crank up Massive Bladder Tumor!" An instant later, the sounds of drums began firing and some male singer wailed in pain. Father treated us to his same dance moves he had just five minutes before.
Holding my hands over my ears, I closed my eyes and waited for the cacophony to stop. When it did, and I opened them, Father was standing before me. Dumping the rest of the papers in my lap he said, "Tomorrow. Eight o'clock. That's the whole deal."
I saw logos of what looked like more sponsors, blueprints of what was probably the meeting place, pie charts, diagrams, bullet points, and pages of contracts. I let the papers slide off my legs as I stood. "I can't do this."
"Bullshit!" He bared his teeth like an angry dog. "We don't have a choice! Everyone's laughing at us. Our stock is worth half a bug fuck." Waving a hand toward Xavid, he added, "We're selling everything just so we have electricity."
With a shrug, I said, "I won't do it."
"You will!"
"I refuse."
"I'll make you," he said, stepping forward. "I'll make you do it, you little shit!"
"You will not."
"Sir," said Joelene. "This operation of yours is a surprise. Can't we have time to recuperate and figure out our next step?"
"It should be a surprise! It's a genius surprise. I thought of it in my own head! And if we don't we're dead. Right guys?"
Ken pumped a fist. "Otherwise, we're dead!"
"Expired!" chimed Xavid, as he tickled his hands over his oily shirt.
"Just today," continued Father, "we lost seven thousand customers. Seven fucking thousand! I've been on the phone begging the buggers not to leave, but they're so fucking stupid, it's real hard." As Ken echoed the words fucking stupid , father got in Joelene's face. "And you! I'm tired of your worthless input. I want to see you working for RiverGroup."
She stiffened. "I am Michael's tutor."
"Yeah? Well, tutor him this: He's going to fuck Elle's stinkin' hole at the product show or you're finally out of here. You got that?"
I wanted to tear his head off. "I'm not doing it!" As I spoke, tears ran down my face. "I'm out of this horrible family." I could barely see as I stumbled past him, around the stage, past Ken Goh, and past Father's idiot film crew and back outside.
I ran to the garage, got in my car, and said, "Europa-1," to my driver. We started moving, and as I strapped myself into the seat, I added, "To the mkg complex . . . to Nora."
Four
The two-lane highway that traveled around the world roughly at the Tropic of Cancer rose high above the desert, cut through mountain ranges, floated over oceans, and was the way to get around the globe fast. After we exited the compound and wound our way down the slope, we came to the desert floor and then began to curve around Ros Begas, toward the long entrance ramp. No other Loop cars were out, so it felt like I was the only one in the world moving, and I liked that. As each of the sixteen vacuum-arc motors started, wound up
"Don't worry if she looks like more than you can handle," said Father to me with a sly grin, "I've got some fully charged sex-pods you can borrow."
I scowled at him.
After a laugh, he said, "Anyway, you're going to go on a big publicity date with her to get a buzz going, then we'll have you two French or something at the product show. They'll love it!"
My jaw went soft. He was serious. This was his solution. I wanted to laugh at him, or somehow cut his notion in half with one perfect word. But all I could do was imagine Nora floating farther and farther away.
"Michael is devoted to the family and the business," said Joelene. "But he is still suffering from both the trauma of the attack and a broken heart."
"Trauma?" shouted Father as he stood and climbed back onto the stage. "You want trauma? I'll give you a trauma." Toward the back of the auditorium, he shouted, "Crank up Massive Bladder Tumor!" An instant later, the sounds of drums began firing and some male singer wailed in pain. Father treated us to his same dance moves he had just five minutes before.
Holding my hands over my ears, I closed my eyes and waited for the cacophony to stop. When it did, and I opened them, Father was standing before me. Dumping the rest of the papers in my lap he said, "Tomorrow. Eight o'clock. That's the whole deal."
I saw logos of what looked like more sponsors, blueprints of what was probably the meeting place, pie charts, diagrams, bullet points, and pages of contracts. I let the papers slide off my legs as I stood. "I can't do this."
"Bullshit!" He bared his teeth like an angry dog. "We don't have a choice! Everyone's laughing at us. Our stock is worth half a bug fuck." Waving a hand toward Xavid, he added, "We're selling everything just so we have electricity."
With a shrug, I said, "I won't do it."
"You will!"
"I refuse."
"I'll make you," he said, stepping forward. "I'll make you do it, you little shit!"
"You will not."
"Sir," said Joelene. "This operation of yours is a surprise. Can't we have time to recuperate and figure out our next step?"
"It should be a surprise! It's a genius surprise. I thought of it in my own head! And if we don't we're dead. Right guys?"
Ken pumped a fist. "Otherwise, we're dead!"
"Expired!" chimed Xavid, as he tickled his hands over his oily shirt.
"Just today," continued Father, "we lost seven thousand customers. Seven fucking thousand! I've been on the phone begging the buggers not to leave, but they're so fucking stupid, it's real hard." As Ken echoed the words fucking stupid , father got in Joelene's face. "And you! I'm tired of your worthless input. I want to see you working for RiverGroup."
She stiffened. "I am Michael's tutor."
"Yeah? Well, tutor him this: He's going to fuck Elle's stinkin' hole at the product show or you're finally out of here. You got that?"
I wanted to tear his head off. "I'm not doing it!" As I spoke, tears ran down my face. "I'm out of this horrible family." I could barely see as I stumbled past him, around the stage, past Ken Goh, and past Father's idiot film crew and back outside.
I ran to the garage, got in my car, and said, "Europa-1," to my driver. We started moving, and as I strapped myself into the seat, I added, "To the mkg complex . . . to Nora."
Four
The two-lane highway that traveled around the world roughly at the Tropic of Cancer rose high above the desert, cut through mountain ranges, floated over oceans, and was the way to get around the globe fast. After we exited the compound and wound our way down the slope, we came to the desert floor and then began to curve around Ros Begas, toward the long entrance ramp. No other Loop cars were out, so it felt like I was the only one in the world moving, and I liked that. As each of the sixteen vacuum-arc motors started, wound up
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