65 lines
2.8 KiB
Plaintext
65 lines
2.8 KiB
Plaintext
|
|
"Very well", he drawled, and let me in.
|
|
|
|
The interior of the house wasn't nearly as impressive as the
|
|
exterior. There were boxes everywhere and lots of random pieces of
|
|
furniture that didn't seem to match anything. Mr. Walsh Number 2 (I
|
|
still don't know what I should call him. I wish people could be
|
|
considerate enough to give their clones new names) led me through
|
|
several half-empty rooms until we arrived at what looked like an
|
|
entrance to a greenhouse. That's what it looked like and that's
|
|
what it was.
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Walsh is in there, tending to his Aspidistras", the guy told
|
|
me, and then wandered off somewhere. He didn't seem to know where
|
|
he was going or what he was supposed to do. They used to say that
|
|
being a butler was something you had to be bred into. This guy
|
|
seemed to prove that theory right. You can't just clone yourself
|
|
and expect the clone to be a perfect housekeeper.
|
|
|
|
I opened the door and went into the greenhouse. It was hot as hell.
|
|
That smell of marigold filled my nostrils again. I guess it wasn't
|
|
an illusion after all.
|
|
|
|
Took me a while to find the real Mr. Walsh. He was hunched over
|
|
some plants and he nearly died when I finally announced my
|
|
presence. If only I had been so lucky. He started babbling about
|
|
"who was I" and "what was I doing here" and calling the police. I
|
|
told him the butler let me in and that the police in Cilix couldn't
|
|
do much for him anyway. He was sweating profusely. So was I, come
|
|
to think of it. Must have been the atmosphere. An artificial
|
|
atmosphere within an artificial atmosphere. Seemed like overkill.
|
|
|
|
I asked him if he'd like to go somewhere more comfortable. Told him
|
|
I had a proposition for him. He didn't have much choice at that
|
|
point, he led me out of the greenhouse and into some kind of lounge
|
|
area with a pool table.
|
|
|
|
Now that we were out of that jungle, I got a better look at him.
|
|
He looked just like the clone alright, only fatter and older
|
|
somehow.
|
|
|
|
"Wait here a moment, Mr. - I didn't catch you name."
|
|
|
|
"I didn't tell you my name. It's Jules". Naturally, I didn't give
|
|
him my real name.
|
|
|
|
"Wait here Mr. Jules, I'm just going to step out to fetch us some
|
|
refreshments."
|
|
|
|
Of course, I didn't see him again after that. The other one, Mr.
|
|
Walsh The Second, eventually turned up and asked me to leave. I got
|
|
my hat and gave him my pitch just before I went out the door.
|
|
|
|
I told him I sold life insurance, and that if Mr. Walsh was
|
|
interested in updating his policy to the latest, greatest standards
|
|
that could be found in the Solar System, he should contact me at
|
|
the Sunset Grand, a swanky hotel in the centre of Cilix. I didn't
|
|
actually stay there, it was well beyond my budget, but it seemed
|
|
like a good place for wooing a client. Mr. Walsh number two assured
|
|
me that the message would be delivered and I went out.
|
|
|
|
I wasn't sore that the sales pitch had gone so badly, only that she
|
|
hadn't shown her face the whole time.
|
|
|