My limo pulled up to my assigned lodgings, and I was impressed right away. Far from just being a suite in one of the hotels in the area, my place seemed to be a standalone, two-storey detached house in a decently-sized lot with lots of space all around, and marked off by a low hedge about as high as my hips.
It felt new and fresh, or maybe just newly-painted or cleaned. And, looking at the loose earth at the base of the hedges, and the still-visible square marks of the newly-planted sod reinforced this feeling. And it had modern-looking and high-tech look - still sort of classic-looking but more in the stye of a fifties future-house made of steel, glass, chrome, tile and concrete instead of a regular frame house with wood and brick or something. The little waterfall-thing in the middle, especially, made it feel like it was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. And the three-storey-tall aerial or antena-tower in the back just added to the high-techy-ness of it.
It even had a big attachment on the side that looked like a big garage. Does that mean they're lending me a car, too?
My footman helped me down from the car (which felt a bit odd) and led the way to the house while carrying my two cases. My sense of chivalry, as paltry as it was, made me feel awkward that a lady was carrying my bags and leading the way. But she carried them easily so I felt less troubled. I was in a different country and wanted so much not to go against any kind of mores, so I placidly followed my footman.
The girl did not turn any lock or use any key to open the front door - she just put her hand on the vertically-placed door handle, and used it push the door sideways.
A gentle, almost inaudible tone pinged before the door slid sideways in line with the girl's movements, and after it disappeared into the doorjamb, the girl stood aside to allow me to go in first.
I stepped in and looked around. It was all chrome, glass, steel and concrete, with white linen curtains and linen throwpillows on the chrome chairs and chrome-and-black-leather settee.
“If you can, sir, please put your right palm on this plate, and speak your name into this little microphone? This is so that all household systems will recognize you and allow you to operate them.”
“Does it matter which hand? I’m actually left-handed.”
“Oh, in that case, you can use your left hand. Actually, it may be better to register both hands.”
“Okay.”
I pressed my left hand into the panel and the panel lit up. After a second, the light went off and I put my other hand on it. When the light went off the second time, I then spoke into the microphone.
“Jay Timothy Barlowe,” I said clearly. A beam lit me from above and the panel blinked twice. I looked up and saw the lamp under the eaves directly over the doorway that hit me with the light. Somewhere a light flashed.
“That’s it, sir.” She reached out and pulled what looked like a car fob out of a cubby under the panel.
“If you would like to have others registered with the house, sir, just plug in the key and have your guest perform the same thing you did.”
I nodded my thanks.
Walking inside and to the dining table, I clicked my finger against what looked like a marble surface, but it was plastic. I checked and, yes, most of the stuff around were plastic, if they weren’t metal. This made me think that the various leather or cloth accents were probably plastic-based synthetics.
My footman noted me checking out things, and cleared her throat.
“I’d like to apologize, sir,” she said. “You were originally billeted in one of the hotels with the other visitors, but we were told at the last moment that we were to prepare special independent accommodations. A prefabricated house was the best we could do. I hope that you can make do.”
“Oh, no!” I said, “you got me wrong. I am completely impressed by all of this. Thank you for your lavish hospitality.”
“The fixtures and furnishings are all recycled plastics and other recovered and reclaimed materials. Arcadia is short on virgin and natural resources, so we use recycled or recoveed materials very heavily. However, your house is fully outfitted with all the amenities you could possibly need or want.
“By the way, sir, your boxes were delivered earlier, and have been unpacked in the library.” This was a "prefabricated" house. And it had a library. Wow.
She gestured to a door to the right of the living area, and I walked there, with my footman following.
As I went in, I saw all of the books, disks and other material I brought all out of their boxes and piled together on the floor. The original inventory sheets were put on top of the books and I went through everything, doing a count, and everything was there.
“This is everything,” I said. “Thank you so much. I was worried that I’d have to do the unpacking myself, or I might have missed something.”
“No worries, sir. Your valet and butler will be coming over later this morning. She is currently acquiring foodstuffs and other things to stock your pantry.”
"Acquiring foodstuffs?" I wondered to myself. “I have a valet?" I said to the girl. "You’re kidding."
“We have been given orders by Her Royal Highness, the Queen, to give you every convenience, sir.”
The Queen! I couldn’t react to that. I didn’t merit this attention.
“In any case, sir,” she said, “I will leave this phone here. Just press the green button if you need us.” She left what looked like a cigarette pack-size flip-phone on a table by the doorway, with red, blue and green buttons on its left edge.
“May I use it to call my family and friends? I just want to tell them I arrived safely. My cell phone doesn’t seem to work here.”
“Of course, sir. Just press the blue button first. This will connect you to your cell phone network back home, and you can text or call as you would normally.”
As I picked up the phone, my footman bowed.
“We’ll leave you now, sir. Just let your valet know if you need us, and we'll be here in twenty minutes or so, and then we can transport you to where you wish to go.”
I held out my hand.
“Thank you for such excellent service. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
She shook my hand, bowed and let herself out.
The first call I made was to the office.
“Hi, Sherry,” I said to my assistant.
“Hey, Boss,” she said, sounding slightly cross. “I didn't recognize the number. You realize, of course, it’s eleven PM.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I just wanted to say that I arrived in Arcadia safe and sound.”
“You have? I was worried a little bit – According to your itinerary, you should have arrived there about three hours ago.”
“Sorry about that, Sherry. My phone doesn’t work here, and I hadn’t had any opportunity to get to another phone until now. I’m in fact using a phone they just provided me.”
“So, how’s it so far?”
“Well, I’ve had a short road tour of Callista. We even went to Lyssium.”
“The palace?”
“Yes. I even got to see the Royal Family.”
“Wow. Did you talk to them?”
“No, I just waved. But I’m sure I’ll meet them again at some point. But, guess what?”
“What?”
“The house they put me up in. It’s mine for the duration! And they said I’m going to get a butler!”
“Nice! I’ve never heard of any visitor in Arcadia put up in their own house before. And a butler, huh? A girl butler or a guy butler? What am I saying? That doesn’t matter, huh? Regardless, it’s going to look like a gorgeous girl.” Sherry giggled.
“Well, I still have to meet her. Hopefully, she’s going to be nice.”
“And cute, too, of course.”
“Goes without saying,” I laughed. “Anyway, can you tell the chief and everyone else at the office that I’m okay? And can you please contact Agent Tom Cullen from the FBI, and let him know I arrived safely.”
“FBI?”
“It’s just a new protocol for Federal officers working abroad. My phone isn’t working, and he said not to dial his phone except from my phone, so could you let him know I’m okay? You'll have to look him up, though - I don't remember the number.”
“No problem. I’ll call him after we hang up.”
“Good.”
“Any pictures?”
“Sorry, Sherry, I can’t send any. I’ll see if I can connect to the internet later and send you some.”
“Okay, Boss. Can I use this number to call you if I need to?”
“Yes. Please share the number with the guys, and with Agent Cullen, too.”
“Okay, Boss. Talk to you later, then.”
“Bye!”
I pocketed the phone, went back in to the little “library room” and started sorting out my stuff.
The people who unpacked my stuff were kind enough to have taken off the shrink wrap. I myself thought I’d leave the plastic on, but maybe Arcadians didn’t like that. In fact, the wrapping was off on everything.
I got out the... deconstructed boxes that the people from the Foreign Service gave me, assembled some and put one copy of the book and disk into one assembled box. These were gifts that I would be giving to the people I would be working with. However, I found one of the books had a broken spine, like someone opened it up too far and cracked the spine. I shrugged and told myself that I’d leave that for the last box I would give.
I then moved on to the little gift bags – each one had a little replica of the Capitol Building inside, or a Lucite paperweight with a miniature of the white house inside, another paperweight in the shape of a baseball (President Maxwell was a big baseball fan), or a postcard-type picture of one or other American landmark mounted in a tiny two by three-inch picture frame - all good for putting on one’s desk.
They all went into the individual cellophane gift bags that closed with a ribbon. Knotting the ribbons into bows was difficult for me, and I was far from finished when my “butler-slash-valet” arrived.
She knocked on the library door and I looked up.
Clearly, my hosts had seen pictures of the traditional British butler, and had made efforts to make mine look the part. The girl that was standing there was in a butler-style suit and black bowtie. Nothing as over-the-top as coat tails and white gloves, but still very butler-like. The cut of the suit was tailored to fit her figure, and didn’t look masculine at all, accommodating her very feminine figure and… chest. And, just like all of the Arcadians I’ve met, she was very beautiful. Since she wasn’t dressed a maid but a butler, then was she a he? Too bad… Or was he really a she? She didn't seem tall enough.
“Good morning, Master Jay,” she, or he, said in very clear American English, although with a strong trace of an Arcadian accent. “My name is Altara, and I am your butler for your entire stay here in Arcadia. Let me know what you need and I will take care of it.”
At five-five, she was quite short for an Arcadian man, and like all the Arcadians I’ve met, she was quite beautiful. He, dammit. He had her hair freely hanging, and fell down to the middle of her back. She kept it out of her face with the use of barrettes clipped behind her ears, and it gave her a fresh kind of aura. I mean him! Dammit!
So far, Altara seemed to be the most beautiful of the Arcadians I’ve met (with the exception of the Royals, of course), and that’s saying a lot. I found myself a bit tongue-tied.
“Ahhh, good morning Altara,” I said, standing up. “I’m Jay Timothy Barlowe, Although I prefer people call me Timothy or Tim. Or JT, if you can manage it.” I smiled. That last sounded a little lame.
“JT,” she said awkwardly, trying to sound it out, although with her, it sounded more like “zhey-tey.”
“Ummm… Altara? Can I ask if…”
She giggled, anticipating the question. “Yes, sir,” she said. “I am, indeed, a girl. Despite this, it was decided that my accouterments be more of a valet’s – our research indicated that a valet or butler is the more traditional assistant to a man, so the attire is a compromise, Master JT.”
I wanted to say “yes!” but I nodded soberly instead.
“You can also call me Tim,” I said. “But Timothy is okay.”
“Very well, Master Timothy,” she said. “Luncheon is ready, if you wish to eat.”
That sounded great. “Wonderful, Altara.”
She led me back to the dining table, and a four-course meal was set.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of deciding the menu. For your luncheon, I have prepared a seafood bisque to start. It’s similar to French bouillabaisse, but this is in the Arcadian style. As for your main dish, I have prepared a lobster salad using Arcadian lobsterfish. Lobsterfish are exactly like lobsters except these are raised in pens and bred to be larger with thinner exoskeletons. I have also prepared pork belly crackling with a liver sauce and crispy fresh vegetables and honey-mustard dressing on the side. There is also Arcadian soft-loaf bread, and for dessert, I have some imported Ben and Jerry’s banana fudge ice cream served with Arcadian whipped cream, cherry slices and cracked toasted peanuts. I also have two kinds of chilled Arcadian Mango wine, which I was told you liked – one is a very light Pink Mango wine, and the other is a thick and sweet Mango Liqueur. Coffee is in the pot, just let me know if you wish me to pour some.”
“Thank you, Altara.”
“Do you wish me to serve you?”
“Ah, no need, Altara. I can manage.”
She looked disappointed. “Of course, Master Timothy.”
“Have you eaten yet? Please join me.”
“I am fine, Master Timothy. I ate earlier. Please enjoy, and ring for me if you need assistance.” She left a little crystal bell near my hand and retreated to the library.
The dishes that she had prepared were familiar, but they all had their own little Arcadian twist, and I had to say that they were all fabulous. I found the Ben & Jerry’s ice cream on the table hilarious, but apparently Arcadians like Ben & Jerry’s, so much so that the ice cream was a fixture in their imports.
The combination of tastes was great, and I guess I ate too much. The Pink Mango wine was so mild but very bubbly, it tasted like flavored fizzy water, and went very well with the rich soup and mains. The soft-loaf bread tasted like buttery French bread except it wasn’t toasty or crispy – it’s almost pillowy in its extravagant softness. And it went well with the bisque. I thought I would have liked some mashed potatoes, but I didn’t miss it. And the ice cream just rounded it out.
I took my used plates and put them in the sink, intending to do them later.
I then went to the coffee maker in the corner. The machine was of a design I wasn’t familiar with, so I just turned off the power and took out the pot. I poured some into one of the available mugs (no cups were in sight) and dropped a couple of the sugar cubes from the service beside the machine in mine.
I took a sip and it tasted heavenly. I decided not to put any cream or milk anymore. As it was, it was perfect. I made up another one, black, and brought both into the library.
There, I found Altara sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, with several dozens of the gift bags around her. She had her coat off and she’d rolled up her sleeves.
“Altara!” I exclaimed.
“I apologize, Master Timothy,” she said. “But I only have three more to go.”
“Oh, no! I’m grateful, Altara, but you didn’t need to do that. Lemme put these away as you finish off the last three.”
I moved the fifty or so boxes of books and disks to the corner, piling them up on top of each other, and gathered all of the gift bags and put them on the table under the window.
“Here are the last of them, Master Timothy,” Altara said, and put them in with the rest.
“Thank you so much, Altara,” I said. “Take a break.” I proffered the cup of coffee I made.
“Thank you, Master Timothy,” she said, and we sipped coffee.
“By the way, that was a great lunch. Did you make it yourself?”
“Yes. I had it prepared this morning, and just warmed it up when I got back. Oh! Before, anything else, a communiqué from the office of His Royal Highness arrived earlier. I did not want to disturb you while you were eating.”
She went to get her jacket, fished out an envelope and handed it to me.
It was a plain white letter envelope sealed with one of those wax seals. I always wanted to break a seal like this, and grinned as I snapped it.
Inside was a letter from the Royal Office. It seemed to have actually been hand-written. Talk about classy. And written in English, too.
On top was a welcome letter from Her Royal Highness, and it was the best kind of thing to hear such welcoming words from a Queen. She had said that I was welcome to come and visit her and her “wallinis” anytime during my stay. Altara explained the word meant young child, and depending on the context, it could mean baby girl, boy, or plural – baby girls or boys. In this context, it was plural.
I tried to get some cues from the letter itself, but it wasn’t telling me anything. Altara said the Queen probably meant baby boys since the Royal Couple had two little boys.
That surprised me since the little children that I saw with them looked like girls. And, according to our intelligence, they had two girls... Oh, no…
I had the bright idea of giving the Royal Family gifts, as was the custom, and I had prepared gifts appropriate for the a couple and two little girls.
“What’s wrong, Master Timothy,” Altara asked.
“I brought over gifts for the Royal Family, and the gifts I prepared for their children were for two girls.”
As she put her coat back, she looked a bit puzzled. “I have always wondered about that, Master Timothy. We Citizens have found it puzzling how the Outside makes so many distinctions between male and female – what one can play with, what one can wear, what one can do, and so many other things. It’s complicated and puzzling.”
I shrugged. “I suppose we do. Arcadians have the advantage that they look largely the same whereas Homo Sapiens males look extremely different from the females, and it makes the treatment of either different.”
“But Arcadian males have physical differences from us females as well. Males are taller and generally stronger whereas we females are shorter, generally have more endurance and larger breasts. Oh! And males and females have different genitalia.”
I was blushing nonstop. “That’s true,” I said. “I guess it’s difficult to explain why we make large distinctions between our males and females compared to Arcadians. We just do.”
Altara ignored my blushing, nodded and changed the subject. “Perhaps you can show me what you intended to give the royal children?”
I went to the piled items from the smaller crates and held up two cute dresses in transparent wardrobe covers.
She looked them over. “I see nothing objectionable to them, and no reason why the children would not like them.”
“But they’re girls’ dresses.”
“I suppose they are. But in Arcadia, such outfits are worn by both boys and girls.”
I sighed. “Are you sure?”
“I am quite certain.”
“Okay, you convinced me. I guess I should start wrapping them up, then.”
“I can assist you.”
Thanks, Altara, but I am fine doing this.”
“As you wish.” She went to the pile where I got the dresses.
“Do you wish these items brought to your room?”
“Yes, please. Thank you. Where is that, anyway?”
“When you climb upstairs to the second floor, it would be the first room to the right.”
“Okay.”
She then picked up the stuff and carted them away.
I looked at the letter in my hand. There was a second page, and it basically was my itinerary for my stay. For my first day tomorrow, I was to meet with my “staff” at the city’s capitol building, to discuss my “project.” In the evening, there would be a small cocktail reception to be held at the Papillion Gardens. During the following days were visits to a manufacturing plant, a ship assembly yard at a place called Pellegra, some place called Agilla, and several other places, but the rest of the time, it was just working at “my" office in the capitol.
“Altara?” I called.
After a few moments, she came in.
“Yes, Master Timothy,” she said.
“Can you look at this? I don’t know the places this mentions.”
She accepted the paper and read through it.
“The capitol building they mentioned is probably the main administration office of the government. I apologize – I don’t know what the word 'capitol' means. The main administration building is called Bellana. Papillon Gardens is a park on the northern part of the city, and is renowned for its beauty. It’s frequented by many royals, aristocrats and artists, and there are many popular restaurants and gathering places there.”
“Is it just for the rich and famous?”
“Oh, no! It’s open to all, and it’s in fact where most Citizens go to meet their idols and other celebrities.”
“Idols?”
“Celebrities roughly the same as your movie stars or pop singers.”
“Ahhh!”
She looked at the sheet again. “Pellegra is a ship-building facility at the South Island, and Agilla is an air-spaceport in the North Island.”
“Air-spaceport?” The word "spaceport" kept rang in my head.
“Like your Kennedy or Dulles airports.”
“Why would they want me to visit these places?” (Spaceports? Oh my god!)
“I’m sure I don’t know, Master Timothy.”
“Well, anyway, it seems I’m being given an office in, what was it? Bellana?”
“Yes.”
“And I’m being given staff.”
Altara nodded.
“Okay. Since we don’t know how big my staff is going to be and how many people I’ll be meeting, I’m going to need to bring all of these tomorrow.” I gestured to all the packages in the room. “They’re for everyone that will be working with me. As gifts.”
Altara nodded. “I will take care of it.” And she stepped out again, presumably to take care of my transportation problem.
I spent about an hour wrapping the four gifts I got for the royal family. One was a large, very expensive and detailed model of a Spanish galleon in its own display case. Another was a complete 1920s Flapper Girl outfit, including hose, shoes and costume jewelry (I prayed the sizes were correct). It came with a little pamphlet on how to put together a “flapper girl” costume. And, of course, the two girl’s outfits.
I thought of the model myself, but I had to ask the help of Teddy and Sherry to pick out the rest. Hopefully, the Royal Family would find them acceptable.
Just like the other gifts I got, the packaging had been removed, although for the clothes, they preserved the transparent wardrobe sleeves.
Per FBI's recommendations, I had not pre-wrapped any of my gifts to facilitate inspection by the authorities. So I took out the wrapping materials I brought and started my wrapping. My giftwrapping skills might not be the best but were at least passable, and I soon had them wrapped up.
It was around three in the afternoon when I finished, and despite all the coffee I drank, I was feeling tired. Jetlag.
I went up to my room, flopped into bed and slept until around eleven PM, local time.
Comments
“Air-spaceport?”
You caught my curiosity too.
Thank you for the chapter.
The royal treatment
I'm still wondering what he's going to be doing. He's probably wondering, too.
You have me rivited
I am so fascinated, this world you are creating is just amazing. I am so glad you are writing more in this universe.
boys can wear dresses !
giggles. yay, lucky boys!
Waiting for the other shoe to drop.
An entire advanced race of shemales, Wonder if they ever have people with TG issues?