Chapter Fifty-Five - Dancing to the Music

“Ain’t no bitch like a corpo bitch.”

--Common corporate idiom, origin dates back to early 2020s

***

I had to thank Burringham later. He found a pianist, some older guy with greying hair and a nice suit who sat behind the grand piano on the stage and started to play this nice, slow piece. The sound echoed across the hall, brilliant, upbeat notes that sounded happy.

Lucy loved it.

She was grinning ear to ear as I held her close and guided her around in little circles. We didn’t know how to dance, and neither of us gave a shit.

I raised an arm above Lucy’s head and she spun around before I pulled her in again. The pianist somehow managed to change the timing on the fly, so that it looked like we were dancing in sync with the music.

I didn’t know what Burringham was paying the guy, but it wasn’t enough.

For all that the dancing was fun, it didn’t last all that long. After five minutes, Lucy was huffing and puffing, face reddening around her cheeks, and our dance turned less energetic as she collapsed against my chest and I held her close so she could catch her breath.

“That was nice,” she said. “But, ah, I think I need a minute to breathe, and a drink.”

I chuckled. “We can dance more whenever you feel like it, you know. Big fancy gala or no.”

Lucy grinned up at me. “I wish you weren’t wearing that helmet, you deserve a kiss for that.”

“I think I deserve a lot of kisses,” I said.

Lucy laughed and pulled back. The pianist seamlessly moved into a piece that sounded a little more neutral, like expensive elevator music, and I found myself being tugged along towards a table next to some large vases that had punch bowls and bottles of wine and a man in a butler’s outfit pouring cups for people.

I realized then that I couldn’t really eat without taking my helmet off, which was going to be a problem later. For now, it was enough that Lucy could grab a cup of some fruity looking punch with ice in it that the butler poured for her.

“Okay, so, what kind of political bullshittery are we going to do here today?” Lucy asked.

“Political bullshittery?” I asked. “I’m mostly here to show you off and to eat free rich people food.”

Lucy giggled. “Well, I can’t say no to either of those, but I’m sure we can do more than that.” She gestured with her head to the rest of the hall, which had been steadily filling up as we danced. The event didn’t start for another hour, but it seemed like being early was pretty popular, and maybe a quarter of the seats were already filled.

“I don’t know, what more do you want to do?” I asked.

“Well, half the people here are celebrity sorts. I think I even recognize a couple of them. They’re not worth talking to. They’re probably live-streaming all of this, which is neat, but really I don’t see the point in chatting with them. A quarter of the people here are CEO and political types. They should have their fingers on the pulse of the city, you know? We might be able to get them to help with the sewer thing.”

“They’re the ones who stand to lose from the city going tits up,” I said.

“Yeah, exactly. Plus they’re easier to impress than the celebrity sorts.”

“What about the last quarter?” I asked. Maybe Lucy spending so much time watching soap operas was coming in handy after all.

“The last bit is a toss up. There’s some kids here that are obviously just being dragged along by their parents.” She gestured to one such group. A few younger boys and girls, mostly older teens and young adults, all looking like preppy corpo kids that had been forced to clean up and put on fancy clothes. “And then there’s our group, of course. Too awesome to fit in any of the other boxes. Some of the people here though, I bet that they’re the sort who just won, and now they go to galas because that’s all they really have left to do.”

“They won?” I asked.

“The game of life, or whatever. You know, inventors, the people who own some of the bigger corps. The ones that are rich enough that they make the other rich people look poor.”

“Is that what you’re aiming to become?” I asked.

“Nah. I don’t have the right kind of luck to be that kind of person. Besides, I think you need to be a college drop-out, and I’ve never been to one of those.”

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“So, they’re the ones you want to meet?”

Lucy shook her head. “Hell no. If they wanted to fix things, things would be getting fixed. Nah, I’m thinking more about the CEO and political sorts. Just get Myalis to point them out in the crowd and we can head over and flirt with them.”

“Flirt with them?” I repeated.

“Not the sexy way, the political way. All intrigue and stuff,” Lucy said with the confidence of someone who was most definitely not an expert.

I shrugged a shoulder. Didn’t sound like the worst idea I’d ever had. “Sure, why not. I don’t know how you’re going to introduce yourself though.”

“I’m just going to walk up to the nearest one and say hi,” Lucy said.

I quirked an eyebrow at that, realized she couldn’t see the skepticism on my face, then spoke to Myalis. “Think we can get one of those breakdowns like Lucy wants? Most influential dirtbags list. Maybe a hot and cold meter, but for importance?”

I’m certain I can accommodate. Though you really should consider investing in a Social Warfare catalogue if you want this kind of thing to work better. All I can do now is simulate a limited and less accurate version of what the software in those catalogues could manage.

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” I told her. I didn’t exactly feel like investing points into something like that, not right then and there. Though I bet it was all sorts of fucked up at higher tiers. If a weapons catalogue went from pew-pew handguns to planet fucker, then I figured a social program went from ‘learn to be less awkward’ to ‘mind-fuck the population.’

I followed Lucy as she guided me over to a small group to one side. Myalis gave me names, as well as their careers. We had a bunch of C-something-Os, all of them women in nice dresses, though none were quite as nice as Lucy.

One of them, a supervisory board member (whatever the fuck that meant) from Sunrise Weapons turned our way and smiled. “Hello,” she said. “When Burringham boasted that we’d have a real live samurai at the gala, I thought he was full of himself, I didn’t expect there to actually be two. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Sarah.” She extended a hand right past Lucy and to me.

This is Sarah Mauve, she’s the CHRO for a political lobbying company. She’s an expert in public perception manipulation for fringe clients. At least, that’s what I’ve read off of her bio.

Lucy grabbed her hand and shook. I had the impression she wasn’t gripping Sarah’s perfectly manicured hand lightly, either. “Hi Sarah. I’m Lucy. This is Cat.”

“Hello,” I said. I couldn't--and didn’t bother--disguising the humour in my voice. “Sorry to butt in, we were just a bit bored.”

“Figured we might as well make some more friends while we were here,” Lucy added. “These kinds of things are more fun when you know people, right?”

“Of course,” Sarah said, her artificial smile never wavering. My augs suggested that a good chunk of her face was as artificial as the smile. She gestured to the other women one by one, introducing them as she went. I forgot the names nearly instantly. At least I had Myalis’ little notes over their faces to help me pretend that I was paying attention.

When Sarah was done presenting everyone, Lucy started to dig into her. I think that Sarah had placed herself as the top of the pack, and that meant that she was the biggest bitch here, at least as far as Lucy was concerned.

“I love your dress Sarah,” Lucy said while reaching over to pinch some of the fabric of one of Sarah’s sleeves. They were made of some thicker, shiny material. “Is this plastic? I like it, it matches the plastic of your skin.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said. “I like your necklace, very thrifty.”

“You like it?” I asked. “I just got it for her today. It’s worth more than this building.” That was probably a lie, but Sarah was a bitch, so I didn’t really care.

Lucy touched the necklace with the tips of her fingers, then shrugged. “I find it pretty,” she said. “Anyway, is everyone here representing a different company tonight?”

That seemed more familiar ground to the others, who were eager to drop whatever Sarah was on in order to shill their company, especially when Lucy started asking them what those companies did and seemed genuinely curious to hear them all speak.

Lucy could be scary sometimes. It was kind of hot.

***