A Night at Archenbault

I return to the lift. It opens as I flash my id. During its descent, I resolve to contact Sir Guillory and laugh. He would have a solution for this, though. The lift reaches the access port, and my chauffeur looks up from the Maglev’s dash.

“Madame Maire.” He greets me a few chi away from the vehicle.

“Perhaps you can help me with something.”

He walks me back to the Maglev and opens the passenger hatch.

I glance at my chrono, hoping the day is not yet lost. “Is this vehicle connected to the holonet? I need to reach Sir Guillory.”

“One of its many features—” I offer him a thankful smile, and he takes the hint. “I'll enable the console for you.”

“Much appreciated,” I step into the vehicle with his offered hand. “We'll stay here for now.

“Of course, Madame.” He closes the hatch, then returns to the front.

With the interface online, cycling through the directory proves straightforward. Let’s see; we’ll make this unofficial. I don’t want Amaury to think he doesn’t have options. The call initiates using my personal profile of Ms. Riitta Laukkanen.

“Allo?” A rough Terran brogue answers.

“Sir Guillory—.”

“Lankkanen? How d’I know that name?” Then silence. “Git h’m, i’za bloody Maire.”

The responder must be talking with someone else nearby. The dialogue amuses me. So much for being informal.

“‘Pologies Maire.” The voice returns. “No’ne ‘spected som’on’ ‘ike you’d call ‘his ol’ line.” His speech seems to relax more. “Might I inform Sir ‘uillory of what ‘ou need?”

“That’s alright. I don’t mind waiting.” I wouldn’t want this to become even more awkward.

“Ms. Laukkanen, Riitta, is that you? A wonderful surprise.” A rich tenor ends the absurd segway. “This is Amaury, lest you think otherwise.”

“It’s good to hear your voice again, Amaury.” No one else on the planet, maybe the known universe, talks like he does. He’s not a ladies man. He just makes everyone feel at ease. Given he is the most powerful man alive, well, I would never discount his pleasant demeanor for something else. “My apologies for the abrupt call. I have an idea that needs deliberation.”

“Ms. Riitta, you know how to pique my interest. When you have ideas, things seem to get done in a hurry.” He pauses. “How about dinner here at Archenbault. Say in an hour?”

"Sounds perfect."

"I’ll see you soon.”

The transmission ends. “Driver, I’m ready to head home.”

He acknowledges before raising the silence partition between the two cabins.

A short while later, the partition lowers. “Madame, we've reached the residence.”

I thank the chauffeur as the hatch opens, and he offers his assistance. My mind begins entertaining ideas to present Amaury later. Despite my effort, by the time my foot crosses the threshold of my office’s mansion, and I push myself up the grand staircase to my room, nothing worthwhile comes to mind.

Alone and focused on my destination, I forgo bringing the illumination level beyond candlelight on my way to the bath. Once inside, after verifying the sauna is ready, my clothes land in a heap. For the next (time), my mind clears away the day's events after I enter.

As an alternative, my thoughts wander between the childish desire to stay home tonight and what route to kayak during my off time. These moments are priceless—one of the few times when political angles are unwelcome. As my body succumbs to the humidity, I wait to exit until just before losing the last of my inhibitions.

After plunging myself into the shower to clean off, dressing is next. Nothing fancy, a brief recollection of my first visit to Archenbault reminds me to pick something simple. As a virtual environment, neither clothes nor makeup will transfer. All my prior hair work vanished in an instant.

What will Amoury have in store for me this time? I remove a golden amulet from its special perch, part of a unique display that houses only my most cherished pieces. The piece is hard to describe; the craftsmanship is exquisite, a design of intersecting lines without a discernible pattern. In the center rests a polished emerald of intense luster. I lose myself in its green embrace any time I attempt comprehending its inviting gleam. Amaury gave it to me years ago—my the key to reaching Archenbault.

After activating its enchantment by placing it upon my chest, I'm standing in the well-manicured garden within the Archenbault grounds.

The scenery is something out of the imagination. Lush green grasses nestle my feet as I kick off my shoes. I twirl in place while taking in the sun cresting on the horizon. The unhindered skirt of my moss green dress lifts around me, adding to my feeling of nostalgia for my younger years. There's an elegant simplicity to my clothes, an unfamiliar style yet easy to wear.

Fluffy clouds drift through a sky drizzled in tangerine and lavender. My skin drinks in the moist warmth while a light breeze tousles my hair. Before long, my eyes settle upon the outline of a hedge maze situated on the other side of a stone courtyard strewn with paper lanterns. Amaury stands before a candlelit table set with ivory linens and scarlet dishware beset with an array of iridescent marigolds.

He stands with a smile on his face in complete silence. Perhaps he understands how precious these rare moments are where I can marvel at the raw beauty of nature, but it wouldn't matter if he didn't. Something about the environment’s tranquility speaks to my soul.

“Amaury! So good to see you again.” I dismiss my usual poise while approaching him, content to embrace this newfound sense of levity a while longer.

“My dear, Riitta!” His usual air of exuberance is irresistible. “I could watch you for hours. You appear very much at home here.” He approaches me as if further conversation is a mere triviality.

“I’m not sure I can live here, although the thought has crossed my mind.” I grin, prepared to traverse the few chi separating the two of us. “For now, call it an indulgence. A grand one at that, one I never want to tire of.”

He waits for me at the edge of the courtyard, arm outstretched yet somehow not insistent for mine. “Spoken like a woman who truly knows herself.”

After taking his hand, he leads me to the table. It's impossible to describe the artistry of its arrangement. Amaury’s engagements repudiate eating in the practical sense. Conversations here take their course, punctuated by the occasional nibble and obligatory refilling of the cup. Time, and any semblance of my former self are but a distant memory, which I believe speaks to the power of the experience.

He finishes seating me and assumes a chair after pouring our goblets with burgundy. “The usual day for you then?”

Upon raising mine, I gaze at him with an innocent expression. “You could say that.” The taste of the secrets offered by his vineyard adds a touch of finesse to the beautiful experience. “As much as the days are noisy, things overall tend to remain the same.”

“Except?” He retrieves a shrimp laden with butter and a single scallop from his plate.

“Redesigning the city's hologrid structure.” My goblet reaches the table. “That, at least, could prove to be anything but usual.”

“Doesn’t the city possess a grid with a decent capacity?” Amaury provides me with a thoughtful stare.

I pick at the assorted items before me, unsure what I'm after. “What if the whole of Campagne was a grid in and of itself?” My hand hovers above the chocolate-covered strawberries—might as well.

“Hmm,” He returns his goblet to the table before it reaches his lips. “I think I understand your conundrum now.”

A smile forms without effort. “The enormity of the project is not what I'm concerned about.” I reach for my goblet. “Something tells me the approach you used with CP wouldn't work for the city of Campagne." The liquid again relaxes me.

My revelation doesn’t phase Amaury. “Agreed. Folded space would make logistics a cinch. But, as you know, participating in that type of environment on occasion is one thing. Expecting the same enthusiasm on a more permanent basis is different.”

He catches me finishing a seared slice of fish encrusted with sesame seeds, which holds a light pepper flavor. “The problem is, even if a grid with more than enough bandwidth were available, how would everyone and everything be tied into the network?”

He laughs. “You mean you don't think they'll all wear amulets like the one you have on now?”

Stifling a chuckle proves impossible. “I was thinking something more innocuous; not everyone can pull this look off.” I offer Amaury a wink knowing full well he isn’t serious. This outfit wouldn't exist if he didn't think it suited me.

“How about using bracelets?” His suggestion lingers with its honest sincerity. “The Terrans use them for phasing. We’d only need to expand their storage and transmission capabilities.”

My jaw drops. “I can't believe I didn't think of that.”

Amaury smiles. “Sometimes, you need to be removed from the problem to understand its true nature. Sure many fashion accessories could serve the same purpose, but it would be much easier to work with existing technology and scale upward.”

A sense of relief floods through me. “As always, you're a lifesaver.”

Amaury raises his glass towards me. “We’ve always complimented each other well.” He pauses for me to join my glass with his. “I'll offer help where I can with your endeavor. It sounds like something that will work well with CP’s design.” Our goblets touch.

Clink.

He's right. We do have something, although we agreed not to explore it further for the time being. Is that why relaxing around him is so easy?

We spend the rest of the evening engrossed in light conversation. Food and beverage ebb away until we retire to a different area of the courtyard. A fire dances beside a seating area adorned with cushions. We sit, and as Amaury refills our drinks, the faint sound of music cascades through the warm breeze. I can make out a group of musicians on the far side of the fire—a nice touch as we continue.

I resign myself to the end of our beautiful evening only when the fire begins to weaken, and the players conclude their performance.

Amaury confirms he'll send someone to my planning meeting amidst our farewells, and I promise to visit again soon. He accompanies me back to where I arrived, and we embrace for a moment. He then steps a few chi away and watches me leave.

While the process is as simple as removing the amulet, the psychological transition requires a little time to adjust. After reacclimating to my home's candlelight, I return the amulet to its resting place and prepare for bed. It wasn't the most demanding day I've ever had, but I'm asleep, pulses after laying my head down.