Chapter Forty-Six - A Bit Fancy

“Discovering alien, non-human life, did interesting things to the field of psychology. The field, as esoteric and vague as it already was, didn’t know how people would react to extraterrestrial life.

As it turns out, we as humans mostly want to either kill it (in the case of the Antithesis) or fuck it (in the case of all the rest).”

--Cedric Richmond, PhD Psychology, 2031

***

“So, where’s our dude?” I asked.

“How would I know?” Lucy replied. “Never exactly been here.”

I chuckled. “I was asking Myalis, actually. But yeah, the place is a bit fancy, huh?”

The mall had that clean modern look that places with too much money poured into PR and advertising had. Clean stainless steel decoration, holographic ads so well-crafted they almost looked real, and more importantly of all, a constant stream of bonafide middle-class losers buying shit.

There was no advertising like having clients.

Jeff Burringham hasn’t yet arrived, though his appointment is in only an hour.

“Neat. Where’s the appointment at?”

He’s meant to be at a store called the Boutique de Beau Vêtements. It’s on the third floor. Though I should inform you that the floors on this building are numbered in the reverse to most human buildings.

“The topmost floor is number one?” I asked.

Exactly. I suspect it’s a marketing ploy to convince people to discuss the building more.

“Clever,” I said.

Then I noticed Lucy pouting. “If you’re going to take me on a date with another girl, then you could at least let me be part of the conversation,” she said.

“This is a date?” I asked.

“It isn’t?” Lucy asked right back. “We’re out, we’re shopping, we’re going to go threaten some politician with possible bodily harm. We literally just snuck into a place while packing. Sounds like a date to me.”

I laughed. “Well, sorry, I wasn’t thinking and didn’t realize. Look, once we find a quiet spot, I’ll buy you some fancy augs, and Myalis can talk to you directly.”

Lucy grinned. “Nice. Myalis would make a great girlfriend, you know.”

I’m afraid that I’m not available.

“You’re not?” I asked. Somehow it had never occurred to me to ask Myalis about... anything of that sort.

I’m married to my job, as it were.

Lucy laughed, and I realized that she had to have overheard. She saw my look of momentary confusion and pointed to her eye. “She’s texting me.”

“Huh,” I said. I didn’t really mind at all, Myalis was... a friend. “Alright, well should we go up to floor three? I’m kind of curious about where this dude buys his fancy pants clothes.”

We shuffled past a few fountains and a food court and over to the elevator banks in the middle of the giant room. They were all glass walled and steel-flowed things, with hovering no-touch displays and interactive map overlays floating over the walls.

Lucy oohed and ahhed at all the shiny bells and whistles while I leaned back against one of the walls and watched, quite content just to see her having fun.

The elevator stopped to pick up and drop off a few people, but it unerringly made its way up until, finally, we reached the third floor from the top.

We stepped out into an area even more lavishly decorated than the floors below, with potted plants dotting the sides and barely any advertising past the names of the stores around us. There wasn’t as much room up here, I imagined. The entire building being a pyramid of sorts meant that space became a premium the higher up a floor was.

I didn’t know why that meant that the nicest stores were up here. A wedding dress shop, which I studiously ignored, a nice restaurant, and finally, wedged between the two, the Boutique de Beau Vêtements. There were a few more on the opposite end of the floor, but they didn’t really matter.

“Oh,” Lucy said. “Pretty!”

She was eyeing the mannequins at the front of the shop. Full motion animatronics who were walking on stationary treadmills and only pausing to flex and twist to show off the clothes they were wearing. Mostly they were business-y outfits, but the sorts I could imagine a CEO wearing. Nice patterns, soft-looking materials, and a lot of strange cuts.

I followed Lucy into the store, only for both of us to pause in the entrance. It was blocked off by a small red-velvet gate with a butler-looking guy behind it. “Bonjour,” he said. “Do you have a reservation?”

“We don’t,” I said. “My name’s Stray Cat, I’m here to talk to one of your clients in a few minutes.”

One of the butler guys eyebrows rose. “Is this an urgent matter? I would like to confirm things with my supervisor. Of course, if you’d be willing to wait, we can serve you some light refreshments.”

“Sure,” I said. I wasn’t in a big hurry, and I didn’t feel like shooting the place up.

He nodded, then stepped back and I saw his eyes glaze over. No doubt he was texting someone right there and then.

Lucy tugged me over to a loveseat set off to the side, and I sat with an arm around her shoulder while we waited. Not thirty seconds later a second butler appeared with a tray covered in colourful macaroons and with a pitcher filled with what looked like genuine strawberries and ice.

“This place is too fancy for my blood,” I said after he left.

“I know!” Lucy replied past a mouthful of macaroons. She’d taken one of every colour, but I doubted she’d be able to tell the difference between their taste, the way she was shoving them into her mouth by the fistful.

“Madam Stray Cat?” the butler asked.

Lucy choked on her pastry.

“Yeah?” I replied.

“We would like to cordially invite you into la Boutique de Beau Vêtements. Please, browse at your leisure, and if anything catches your eye, you need only inform a member of our staff. If you find yourself uncertain about anything, then don’t hesitate to ask for assistance as well. Every member on the floor has a doctorate in fashion design.”

“Thanks,” I said.

The store didn’t have racks of clothing. Instead it had little booths and stands with mannequins dressed in suits and nice summer wear, others had dresses or streetwear on.

Lucy gasped and pulled me into the front of a booth. “I’ve heard of these,” she said before stepping up into the booth. The inner wall was a mirror, at least for a moment. A scan later and there was a colour swatch that matched Lucy’s darker skin to one side, and another for her hair, then her image split and her reflection was wearing three different outfits, all from the same brand whose understated logo adorned a corner of the booth.

“Oh, I like this one,” she said, pointing to one off to the side. The dress became the centre of focus, and the next three Lucy models were all wearing similar but not identical versions of the dress. Different trim, slightly different colours, with and without complementing accessories.

“That’s kind of cool,” I said.

“I wonder how they did the models,” Lucy said.

The entrance area had several high-resolution cameras at different angles. It wouldn’t be difficult to build a three-dimensional model from that information alone. Also, take note that the models are being somewhat complimentary when it comes to Lucy’s actual size.

Lucy sighed, she was half turned to the mirror. “Yeah, my ass isn’t that nice,” she said.

“Your ass is very nice,” I said.

“Thank you, Cat,” Lucy said. She smacked herself playfully, then laughed at the expression I made. “Come on, we should find something pretty for you to wear. You’d look awesome in a suit.”

“As long as you don’t try to fit me into a skirt,” I said.

“Wouldn’t suit you,” Lucy said. “I, on the other hand, have these new and improved legs to show off. And to shave, urgh.”

Lucy and I moved to another booth, this one more business oriented. I got to see what Lucy would look like in a blouse and pencil skirt, thick-rimmed secretary glasses and all, then she forced me in front to try on different suits. I had to admit that I cut an intimidating figure in an all-black three piece with a sword by my hip.

Cat. Jeff Burringham has entered the shop.

I half-turned and looked towards the entrance. Somehow Lucy had dragged us a good ways into the store. It meant that I could snoop on Burringham from afar in peace.

Jeff didn’t come alone. He had a pair of bodyguards who immediately stationed themselves next to the entrance, and a petite secretary-type who was stuck to his side like a bureaucratic limpet. The man himself was pretty handsome, for a guy.

“Well well, about damned time. Did you want to come?”

“You know I always do,” Lucy said.

***