“Yes, sir.”
“Sure you can. Play tennis?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any good?”
“I’m very big with the racquets.”
Downes grinned. “What are you, takin’ time
“Trying to raise some money, sir.”
“Sure. I’ve got two kids of my own in college. Good thing I’m a Certified Public Accountant. Damn-all, the bills never stop. I’ve never had to juggle my personal accounts before I had two kids in college at the same time. Where are your folks, John?”
“My mother has a medical problem, sir. My father has a small farm.”
“I see. And you’re not much on farm laboring, I expect. It’s dry work, all right. I escaped a farm when I was a kid.” The man slapped the side of his stomach. “I wanted to wear a white shirt and have a gut.” He laughed. “See? I’m a success!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hmm.” The man frowned a little at Jack’s agreement. “So the job’s on the Vindemia Estate. You know about it? Owned and closely operated by Doctor Chester Radliegh. So big it just about drives the whole economy around here. They need a young man—‘presentable’ is the description I was given—to keep the swimming pools, tennis courts, gymnasium clean, act as lifeguard when necessary, you know, if there are little kids around, be able to partner at tennis when someone who wants to play doesn’t have a partner, help the gardeners out when necessary, help patrol the grounds when necessary—”
“‘Patrol the grounds’?”
“Yeah. Doctor Radliegh is a nut on security.”
“You mean, with a gun and dog?”
“And walkie-talkie. Can you handle that?”
“I guess.”
“And, when required, if there’s a big party goin’ on, or somethin’, put on a white jacket and help serve drinks, whatever.”
“Do I get paid extra for smiling?”
More slowly, Downes said, “And report to Doctor Radliegh’s secretary anything you see that strikes you as out of the ordinary.”
“What does that mean?”
“I tell you, Doctor Radliegh is a nut on security. He likes to know everything … about what everybody is doin’, sayin’.” He shrugged his shoulders. “He’s just funny that way.”
“Spy on the guests? Family?”
“There are conditions to your employment.” Downes put on his glasses and referred to a list that seemed a permanent part of his desk top. “You will not be allowed to smoke, drink, or use other drugs, illegal substances, of course, or bring them onto the estate. Okay so far?”
“How about bubble gum?”
“The estate’s colors are blue and white. We give you the clothes to wear and you wear them. You don’t wear any other clothes while you’re on the estate, even if and when off duty. Got that?”
“Okay, but no tutus.”
“Old man Radliegh runs that estate like a nineteenth century British Man of War.”
“What happened to the last guy who had this job?”
“Two empty beer cans were found in the wastebasket in his room.”
“For that he was fired?”
“Instantly.”
“Not hung from the yardarm?”
“You are not to bring personal guests onto the estate. You are not to bring a woman to your quarters. Even if you help a woman guest in the gym, or play tennis with her, you are not to develop a personal relationship with her.”
“Phew. Why doesn’t old Radliegh run the estate with robots?”
“I think he would if he could. You’ll live in half of a divided cottage, your own room, bath and kitchenette. It is expected you will do all your food shopping at the estate general store in the village of Vindemia.”
“I’m expected to sell my soul to the company store?”
“It’s not a bad deal, really. The store on the estate is nonprofit. You buy retail at wholesale prices. Plus, Doctor Radliegh himself has checked the nutritional value of all the food sold, for example. It’s the best.”
“No junk food?”
“Potato chips. He likes potato chips himself. You may use the gymnasium, pool, etc., but not while a member of the family or guest is using them. Unless you have an explicit reason for being someplace, if a member of the family or a guest appears, you are to disappear. You have a car?”
“Yes.”
“When you arrive, you will park it in the locked compound, and turn over your keys. Radliegh doesn’t want unnecessary traffic on the estate. Bicycles are available. You’ll have from midnight Wednesday until midnight Thursday off. If you choose to leave the estate during that time, of course your car will be made available to you.”
“This is Thursday.”
“So it is.” Downes told Jack the rate of pay. He began to hand Jack a closely printed sheet of paper. “Is all this agreeable to you?”
“Where do I sign?”
After a little more paperwork with Clarence Downes, Jack drove to the estate.
The erections holding the wrought iron gates to the estate were thirty five meters high. Stucco walls ten meters high extended out of sight in each direction. The gatehouse itself was as big as a suburban executive mansion.
“Is this The Magic Kingdom?” Jack asked the blue-and-white uniformed guard.
“You almost got it right,” the guard said. “You got a pass?”
“Yeah.” Jack handed the guard his laminated pass. “Winnie the Pooh dropped his.”
Jack’s pass was pink, Downes had told him, to identify him as an employee.
At least a mile ahead of him, on a rise, the roofs and other parts of the main house were visible. The roofs were blue tile. In the sunlight, the white walls of the house gleamed like an actor’s teeth. Several huge blue-and- white flags, visible even from that distance, flew in the breeze above the roofs.
The guard gave him directions to the car compound. “Go directly there,” he said. “I’m phoning ahead. They’ll expect you within six minutes. Do not drive over thirty miles an hour.”
“What do I do about the car’s exhaust?”
The guard grinned. “Bag it.”
Driving the smooth road, landscaped both sides, Jack remembered his conversation with Global Cable News’ Assistant to the Chief Executive Officer, Alex Blair. Jack had said he was not married or otherwise entangled and was free to go abroad.
Entering Vindemia he felt as if he had entered a foreign country. Very foreign.
He had entered the sort of world God might have created if He had money, to use an old wheeze.
A car the likes of which Jack had never seen before passed him coming from the main house. It was a chauffeur driven extended Infiniti.
An older woman in a picture hat sat alone in the back seat. She held a handkerchief to her nose. Was she weeping?
The limousine oozed along silently at exactly thirty miles an hour.
“Woo,” Jack said to himself. “’Round here, I’d better not accept any apples from women, or I just might end up somewhere well east of here.”
Having finished her laps in the pool, the girl in the black bikini swam to the pool edge near Jack. She folded her arms on the pool edge. She rested her chin on her forearms.
