Chapter 6 – The Killing Fields
When Marci emerged sometime later from the automatic dressing room with flawless make-up, smoky eyes, blood-red lips, and her red hair immaculately styled, Jack’s heart skipped a beat. “Wow!” The word burst from his lips. “MacIntyre is in for a surprise.”
“Do you really think he’s as easily impressed as you are?
” She turned to him, laughing, as Jack handed her a snow-white trouser suit cut almost down to her navel.
Instead of high heels, she’d chosen white, flat sandals as she felt safer in them, but it did make her feel tiny against Jack as she only reached up to his chest. She looked at him coyly. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.”
He wore the same suit he’d previously had on.
It emphasised his broad shoulders, but he’d switched his black shirt for a snug-fitting green one that matched his eyes and clung to the muscles of his impressive six-pack.
In a world in which appearance was everything, Jeanette had not skimped on anything that would help make them look as impressive as possible.
“We need to go.” Jack held his hand out to Marci and felt her tremble with anxiety.
“You don’t need to worry,” he reassured her in his deep, almost hypnotic voice and kissed her before they stepped outside.
“You managed your first meeting with MacIntyre brilliantly. You can do it again. We’ve nearly made it into his sinister empire.
It would be fatal to give up now when we’re so close to achieving our aim. ”
“I’m not considering giving up.” Resolutely, she followed him into the lift and held his hand tightly, as if to reassure herself of his presence.
As they left the lift and made their way to the hangar, she released his hand; now they were outside, he was nothing more than her chauffeur and bodyguard.
He’d contacted the hotel and confirmed their departure, so their silver speed glider was already waiting for them in the bright sunlight on the landing platform, two hundred metres above the ground.
“What if MacIntyre doesn’t let you into his inner sanctum?” Marci asked abruptly once the automatic system had buckled her into her seat. “I mean, if he objects to your presence when we’re eating?”
“I’ll worry about that if it happens.” Receiving permission to take off, Jack used his thoughts to access the glider’s holographic controls and it rose smoothly into the air.
He smiled encouragingly at Marci, remembering that she was scared of flying.
“Let’s get through lunch first and go from there. ”
Marci dug her red fingernails into the seat as the glider made a sudden turn shortly after take-off and joined a precisely calculated route that was being followed by numerous other gliders.
The rapid acceleration pushed Marci back into the white upholstery as the glider headed towards the harbour and its mass of towering skyscrapers.
She never thought she’d be flying over Chicago in a glider, never mind going out for an expensive lunch.
She and Will would never have been able to afford something like that; they’d either walked everywhere or used cheap taxis that usually stayed on the ground.
As Marci stared out of the window, daydreaming and thinking of her boys, waiting for her safe return on the other side of the lake, Jack had everything under control.
He parked smoothly on the roof of the eight-star restaurant, where a space had been reserved for the glider.
A basic service robot in a cheap, functional livery showed them to a lift that brought them directly to the luxurious lounge fitted with plush twentieth-century furniture, where a second robot played an old-fashioned piano.
Marci’s shoes sank into the thick, white carpet and she felt as if she were walking on clouds.
A female robot in a short pink outfit, which had clearly been designed with more effort than the other robots’ clothing, showed them to an elegantly laid table on which real candles burned in a silver candelabra.
Fine china and expensive glassware sparkled on the white damask tablecloth.
MacIntyre was already waiting for them and greeted Marci with effusive kisses on both cheeks.
Jack positioned her chair so she could sit down straight away, but he remained standing until MacIntyre took a seat and then with a grudging nod offered Jack the chair next to Marci.
It didn’t escape Jack’s notice that MacIntyre had brought company – perched next to him, almost timidly, was another elfin Asian beauty who looked barely older than fifteen.
She wore a silver minidress that revealed her tiny breasts, and her long, gleaming blue-black hair fell almost to her hips, only just covering her nakedness.
Her almond-shaped eyes stared into the distance as if none of it concerned her.
She was clearly a robot. She didn’t say anything to them, just sat like an overawed child.
Jack had no idea why MacIntyre had brought her along.
Maybe he was hoping to provoke Marci by showing her how unnecessary such an escort was.
“You clearly found your way here without any problems,” MacIntyre began with a wolfish smile.
“As you can see, I’ve brought a little bit of company for your robot.
If he likes, he can take her into one of the back rooms for dessert and chastise her like he did with Jill Ambush last night.
It would certainly be fun to watch them. ”
Marci struggled not to let her shock at his crudeness show on her face, but Jack remained calm, even though he could sense the female robot’s fear from across the table.
It would seem that MacIntyre had often used her for his brutal games, but the question remained whether he knew that she had awoken.
Bizarrely, MacIntyre himself didn’t give off any human vibes; Jack had noticed it the previous day and would have liked to put him through a scanner.
The possibility that MacIntyre himself had been transformed into a robot seemed absurd but Jack would no longer be surprised by anything.
He hadn’t told Marci of his suspicions, though, because she would have behaved differently towards MacIntyre and because he didn’t want to voice them until he was completely certain.
In the meantime, Marci made a show of looking at the menu, which in this establishment wasn’t electronic but rather physical, written in real ink on paper. She was relieved to be able to draw on her internal prompter who advised her what to choose for each course.
“I’ll take the steamed carrots with whipped coconut cream as a starter,” she announced in a trembling voice.
Good God, when had she last eaten real carrots?
And she’d never had coconut mousse on her plate in her whole life.
“For the main course, I’d like the fresh mixed tropical vegetable sushi.
And for dessert?” Marci flipped through the menu, clearly rejecting MacIntyre’s suggestion of what he considered an erotic performance between Jack and his schoolgirl.
“For dessert, I’d like the fresh forest berries on blueberry mousse with vanilla parfait.
” Marci clapped the menu firmly shut, still not quite believing that what might be her last meal would include all these delicacies.
“And what about your robot?” asked MacIntyre pointedly.
“He can choose what he wants,” she stated with a sideways glance at Jack, who could recycle this unparalleled luxury into organic fuel for his energy reserves.
“I’ll have a large steak,” said Jack unceremoniously. “And a beer. Preferably a large one.”
“We wouldn’t him to be drunk by the end of the meal,” joked MacIntyre.
He gave the staff their food and drink orders, including his order of grilled whale with seaweed, both of which were horrendously expensive as there was very little left in the world’s oceans to enjoy guilt-free, so it was all cultivated at extortionate cost.
“Doesn’t she eat?” asked Marci, looking uncertainly at the girl.
“Maya is programmed so she doesn’t need to eat. That would be too expensive for our clients. However, she is able to swallow organic material and excrete it again.”
He gave a leering grin and Marci had an idea what his answer might be referring to, but she refrained from saying anything.
As they ate, MacIntyre tried to find out where she’d studied and worked to make her so talented that she was capable of equipping robots with autonomous human emotions.
Thanks to the crew back in Hunters Lane, she answered all his questions calmly and he seemed to be quite impressed by her knowledge of robot technology.
“Aren’t you worried that your robots will one day assume a life of their own? I mean, with all that perfectly designed humanity?” MacIntyre looked at her slyly as she wiped her mouth with an expensive linen serviette.
“No, not really.” Marci sipped at her freshly squeezed orange juice and ignored his provoking expression. “They’re just objects. And besides, I can switch them off at any time. That’s not a problem.”
“Then do it,” MacIntyre ordered, looking like a poisonous snake lying in wait for its careless victim.
“Pardon? What?” Marci thought she must have misheard him.
“Switch your robot off. I want to see whether he just lets you do it. He probably needs a rest after the meal anyway.”
“I thought he was supposed to entertain himself with your robot?” Marci could feel herself losing patience.
“He’s free to do that once we’ve toured my lab facilities.” A self-satisfied smile appeared on MacIntyre’s lips.
“Wait a minute.” Marci looked at him in confusion. “Didn’t I say that he would accompany me? Everywhere? That was the condition. Or am I mistaken?”