Honeymooners are the Worst
The new Mrs. Claudian smirked and called her husband over.
‘Clever’ he agreed, and kissed her on the check.
He then turned and scowled at the wench who’d brought the tray, some local the hotel must have installed to give the place an ‘authentic’ flair.
‘That took almost 20 minutes. The service around here is simply terrible.’
The wench just smiled and said nothing.
‘Disappointing, Briley.’
The dead voice of Management pulsated uncomfortably in her linkdrive, causing her to stiffen in her chair, but Briley knew better than dare take her eyes off the screen.
‘Three violations registered against the Claudian account. Your pay will be docked in accordance with Policy 7DR. Register your acknowledgement.’
Acknowledged.
The screen gave a tiny flicker and then the perfect sunlit images of the company show reel began to play.
‘We expect more at the Vientiane Cuvee Resort, Briley, because we deliver more at the Vientiane Cuvee Resort’ the sickly sweet voice of the system’s Promo mode cooed into her mind.
Briley relaxed slightly, but kept her eyes locked on the screen.
Someone had warned her that sitting though Promo mode was the worst part of infraction review, but Briley actually quite liked it. It was an insider’s look at paradise.
The Vientiane Cuvee was the greatest jewel in the Company’s crown – the most expensive luxury hotel in the whole of the Virgo Supercluster. Most of the staff had been brought in from other hotels owned by the Company, seasoned veterans in the business of creating living fantasy for every guest wealthy enough to afford the price of making dreams come true.
Briley was an exception. She had grown up watching the mega structure being built, fantasising about the indulgences that would transpire inside it one day. The resort was her salvation, she’d decided, her ticket into the glamourous worlds beyond. She had plans.
The sultry voice of Promo was just finishing its detailed list of the 112 types of massage options available to guests when the screen went blank, leaving Briley in an accidental staring contest with her own reflected face.
‘Bril-baby!’
Briley blinked. It had taken the better part of her first 2 months to learn the difference between audio input and linkdrive input; to identify the subtle distinction between when ‘hearing’ came through her ears or just straight into her brain. She thought she had also finally mastered the ability to recognise which linkdrive channel the message was coming in on – the official work channel or the hacker channel that the staff used to talk off the record.
Count on Ezio to make her second guess her progress. Staff weren’t allowed to use nicknames with each other, but Ezio seemed to have a knack for getting away with a lot, even on the work channel.
I’m in quarters Ezio.
‘And now you are leaving quarters. The Claudian account just registered a request. I’m sending it through. Bernie’s in the Lido kitchen, he’s your closest chef.’
They want food at this hour? Really?
Briley cringed. Laughter through linkdrive wasn’t a sound so much as a vibration that ached in her upper molars.
‘When the mood’s right, eh Bril-baby!’ Ezio laughed again, then flipped to the hacker channel. ‘You are such a dimwit. Another bitch-thought violation!?’
It’s not my fault! They are so demanding and their requests are just crazy! I mean…
Ezio cut her off, the mirth gone entirely from his tone. ‘Get it through your head you twat. They are honeymooners. You’re class R8. You are the only face those rich snobs will see their whole stay. Fuck, Bril. Seriously. Soft opening’s nearly finished and the Grand Opening is in a week. Management can’t risk having an account even THINKING they see resentment in your expression. You get caught with bitch-thought levels above an 8 and you’ll never pass probation.’
It was only a 4.
‘It was only a 4 because I was on relay duty and flipped your channel before you full registered. You owe me. Okay, I’m sending through the Claudian request straight to Bernie and recording it in your log. Get your ass to Lido then take the express straight up to guest-side, you hear me? Now MOVE.’
By the time Briley wound her way through the dim back halls to the kitchen, the hover tray was already loaded and Bernie was waiting for her. Briley stared at the perfectly arranged dishes in disbelief.
This can’t be right.
Bernie shot her a fiery glare.
‘Order said they selected ‘light snack’, ‘decadently naughty’, and ‘to share’ from the menu options, right?’
Yes but…
‘Listen kid, you’ve been working here, what, a whole minute? I’ve been working hotels 14 years. Which of us do you think I’m going to decide is right? Take the tray and get out of my kitchen. NOW.’
Briley turned on the tray’s auto balance and guided it out into the hall, a frown of worry on her lips.
A whopping serve of 500quan-per-gram caviar lay in the centre of the main plate, moulded into the shape of a dick. Worse, the dick was pointing at ‘boobs’ made of pate mounds complete with quince paste nipples. Some sort of thick cream gave a final distressing detail to the edible scene.
Ezio?
‘What?’
Well, um, Bernie’s given me, um…
‘It’s called a Romantika special Bril. Honeymooners love it. And he’s already added it against their bill, so get moving!’
If I was rich enough to eat this stuff, no way would I want it looking all nasty porno. I don’t get these people.
‘You’re not paid to understand them Bril. You’re paid to be a pleasing in-the-flesh example of the planet’s quaint locals, who smiles, stays silent, and caters to their every whim.’
But if I learn to understand them, then I can become one of them, you know?
Briley winced. She’d never had that much laughter come through linkdrive.
She steeled herself, and reached out to ring the room bell.
Contest details:
Contest: NYC Midnight Flash Fiction 2014, Round 1, Challenge 2
Genre: Sci-Fi
Location: A luxury hotel
Object: Caviar
Score: 13 points