Virginia moved away from the bench, waiting by the tall metal sign that marked the 320 Shuttle stop.
The security associate followed her. “I’d like to see your papers, while I’ve got you.”
Virginia dug into her large, almost empty bag, and produced several perfectly forged documents. Ray had arranged for an
i
dentification
c
ard, work papers, and a health certificate clearing her of the newly dubbed “Deviant Typhoid Mary Syndrome.” All papers had to be on her person at all times, Ray explained to her, especially when traveling through and working in the rich district. Because there had been so many terrifying reports about deviant wrongdoings the past few weeks, Police-Corp was having its associates looking for reasons to get them off the streets. With Info-Corp suddenly pegging deviants as the harbingers of lice and disease, Police-Corp decided that any deviant found without an updated Proof of Health Certificate was to be arrested immediately.
The security associate thought for a moment, decided that he had nothing on Virginia, and then handed back her documents. “Everything seems to be in order. Just stay off the benches.” The associate returned to his post, turning to glance at her every minute or two.
When the shuttle arrived, Virginia allowed the few
people
who came after her to board first, averting whatever conflict might arise from boarding before them. She remained standing, grasping a hand-bar, standing as far as she could from the seated passengers. She avoided eye contact as the shuttle carried her and a handful of people to a garage across the district. To her relief, the shuttle emptied at the garage, and one other deviant boarded. He also stood as the shuttle continued further into the richest part of the quadroplex.
Virginia kept to herself, hoping that the deviant across the way would remain just as silent. She was in no mood for small talk. Her feet were killing her, the uniform was cold and itchy, and she felt that she had given up almost every last bit of her dignity getting this far. She was about to betray what her heart told her were still her own people, and for a meager roof over her head and a few warm meals. Would she even be able to go through with it? She had always wanted to meet a member of Corporate. She never thought in any of her wildest imaginings, however, that it would finally happen under such unpleasant and unwelcome circumstances.
Ray had
found
Virginia a job as a servant for the very prestigious Conrad family. Mr. Conrad was believed to be the top Corporate representative for Info-Corp, and according to Ray’s top sources Mrs. Conrad was a retired mother who now was a full-time member of the National Corporate Logistics Board. Ray told Virginia that both of the Conrads were key players in what he dubbed “the Anti-Deviant Propaganda Campaign,” and a keen ear properly placed in their house could prove invaluable.
Virginia would stay at the Conrad estate for four-day shifts, on call day and night while she was there, and then go “home” for three days to catch up on sleep and take care of whatever personal business she might have. Ray made it very clear that her job for right now was to get to know both Mr. and Mrs. Conrad as well as she could, and also mingle with the other help to see what further information she could
obtain
.
The task sounded simple, and yet it instilled a sense of dread in her that she couldn’t shake. She would have been nervous visiting a Corporate even back when she was a human being. Now the dynamics between them were even more complicated. How would she be able to stand remaining in such a beautiful and luxurious home, knowing that she was now considered such a lowly creature? Even if she was cleaning the place?
Nothing Virginia had heard about Corporate living could prepare her for the actual estate when she got there. The Conrads had their own private shuttle hub, which gave way to a covered pathway leading to their immense front gate. A speaker box was anchored to one side of the gate, and Virginia pushed a large red button to call an attendant.
A young woman’s voice crackled through the speaker. “State your business.”
Virginia pushed the “Speak” button and moved her face close to the box. “My name is Virginia Ir . . . Virginia Seton. I’ve come to fill the servant position.”
“Just a moment.” There was a buzz at the gate, and then it slowly creaked open.
Virginia entered the estate, and she jumped with a start as the gate slammed shut behind her. She walked with awe and trepidation as she made her way across the gigantic yard surrounding the house. There was an immense lawn, and all around there were trees, bushes, and vines. An arbor hung overhead the majority of the path, trained with morning glories, moonflowers, and wisteria vines. Even living in the middle class, Virginia was a young child the last time she saw a private yard, but never before had she seen one this large or elaborate.
Virginia made her way to the main house, climbed up the freshly whitewashed veranda steps, and rang the doorbell.
A young deviant woman promptly answered the door, leaving the protective chain on for the moment. “Virginia Seton?” the young woman asked.
Virginia nodded.
“I’ll need to see your papers before I can allow you in,” the young woman continued.
Virginia produced her documents from her bag and handed them through the slightly ajar door.
The young woman looked through the documents, and then handed them back before unchaining the door and opening it completely. “I’ll need your bag, Virginia.”
Virginia hesitantly handed her the large bag, stuffing her documents in her apron pocket.
“The last girl
the agency
sent us was a thief,” she said. “He swore it would never happen again, but I hope you don’t mind if I take extra precautions?”
Virginia shook her head. “I’m no thief. I promise you won’t have any problems with me, Miss . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“Nadine.”
“You won’t have any problems with me, Nadine.”
“Good.” Nadine seemed a little bossy to be a servant, but Virginia remained silent about the matter. Nadine was very pretty, somewhere around thirty, and had long, wavy brown hair that she had tied back with a black ribbon.
“Where do I start?” Virginia asked, hoping that cleaning someone else’s mansion would somehow be less tedious than cleaning her own humble apartment. The entry hall was large, with bronze statuettes arranged along the tastefully decorated walls. The entry opened up to an enormous foyer, adorned with small tables holding priceless artifacts from different eras of the past. A tall, thin statuette of the Egyptian goddess Bast watched over the entire room
, the thin, catlike figure serving as a centerpiece for the rest of the display
. An antique vase stood not too far away, and an ancient carving of the Earth Goddess sat on the other end of the large room. On the walls to the sides of the elaborate, winding staircase were famous paintings that had likely been auctioned off in some museum’s desperate attempt to stay in business for a few more months.
“Let me give you the tour,” Nadine said, and then began toward the kitchen.
Virginia followed, speechless.
The kitchen was enormous, with more appliances than any person could ever need. It seemed like the entire room was made of stainless steel, and even the walls shone. There was a huge stove with four burners on it, and an oven large enough to bake a full-sized turkey. Cast iron pans hung overhead a large, granite-top island, and beside them hung ladles, cooking spoons, and spatulas.
Beyond the kitchen was a storage room, where breads, cheeses, cured meats, and canned goods stood on shelves. Bags of rice and beans were stacked beside a bin of potatoes and an electric refrigerator and freezer stood in the far corner. A dumb waiter stood open in the middle of the wall on their right, with a small hand-held computer sitting in its transport box.
“We cook all of the meals, although Mrs. Conrad does all of the meal planning. I hope you know how to cook,” Nadine said.
Virginia shrugged. “Well enough.”
Nadine led Virginia back through the foyer, allowing her to pe
e
k her head into the game room, which was complete with a pool table and arcade-style pinball game, and the downstairs toilet. “Don’t get caught in either of these rooms unless you’re cleaning or serving in them, or you’ll be in a world of pain.”
“We aren’t allowed in the bathroom?” Virginia asked.
“We have our own bathroom.” Nadine opened another door, revealing a wooden staircase. She reached in and flipped on a light, and a dim bulb flickered to life.
Virginia looked down the staircase, feeling as though she was entering a dungeon. “Our bathroom is down there?”
“It’s not as bad as you think.”
Virginia took in her dark surroundings as she followed Nadine down the steps. They turned a corner and passed a small room with two cots, each with a pillow and a single blanket. Just beyond the cots were the bathroom and a small kitchenette area. Beside that was a small laundry area. Virginia saw that the bathroom had a mirror on part of one wall, and she slowly moved to see her reflection in it.
She had not seen herself in a mirror since going into the hospital, and she was surprised to see the deviant eyes staring back at her through the reflective glass. Their color was so pretty and yet so ugly at the same time. Virginia lost herself for a moment, unable to turn away from the image.
“Are you okay?” Nadine finally asked.
Virginia fought to keep her composure. “I’m fine.”
“Good. It’s time to make the Conrads’ breakfasts.” Nadine went back up the stairs, and Virginia followed quickly behind her.
Virginia looked up the staircase that led to the Conrads’ bedroom. “What about the upstairs?”
“I do all of the upstairs cleaning. Mr. And Mrs. Conrad are very particular about who they allow around their personal business.” Nadine gave Virginia a strange smile and then led her back across the foyer.
They returned to the shining kitchen, and Nadine pulled the hand-held computer from the dumb waiter. She tapped in a couple of commands, and then set it back in the transport box.
“Can you use a computer?” Nadine asked.
“I’m sure I can figure it out.”
Nadine pulled two frying pans down and set them on the stove. “Mr. Conrad wants a cup of black coffee,” she began. “Mrs. Conrad wants two waffles, three eggs scrambled in bacon grease, bacon, of course, and hash browns.”
“That’s a lot of food,” Virginia said.
“I wouldn’t offer any opinions about it in front of Mrs. Conrad if I were you. She’s very touchy about her eating habits.”
“Is she fat?” Virginia asked.
“I wouldn’t use that word around here,” Nadine whispered into Virginia’s ear as she walked off toward the storeroom. She disappeared for a moment, returning with eggs, potatoes, and an onion in her apron. She set them on the island, and then disappeared again for the batter mix and bacon.
“Could you get the coffee brewing?” she asked, setting down the rest of the food. “The grounds are in the fridge.”
Virginia retrieved a can of coffee grounds from the refrigerator and found the coffee maker. “I could sure use a cup of coffee,” Virginia said, taking in the amazing bittersweet fragrance of the dark grounds.
“No food unless you’re on break, and no using the kitchen cups or plates for yourself. We have our own downstairs,” Nadine said as she took the potatoes and onion to Virginia and handed her a knife. “Peel and chop these up after you get the coffee started. We’ll see how well you can make hash browns.”
Virginia got to work as Nadine went to the stove and turned on one of the burners. She lined up several strips of bacon in the pan, and soon the sizzling, sweet smell of salted pork filled the room. Nadine put the bacon on a plate to drain, and then immediately got started on the scrambled eggs. Virginia cringed as Nadine kept the bacon grease hot and dropped the beaten eggs into it. The grease crackled as the eggs cooked, spitting and hissing with the heat. The eggs slowly soaked up the grease, transforming their whites to the colors of caramel and burned toast by the time they were done.