Word count: 1200
The Belle
“Send in number 5.”
“Won’t they wonder what’s going on?”
“It’s a mansion. This guy wipes up his dog messes with
hundred-dollar bills. They won’t care.”
“Sending in number 5. Room G.”
“Hailey, monitor Room G.”
“On it.”
****
Lady Carmichael stood six feet tall without heels and she
was ravishingly beautiful. She wore a dress studded with tiny crystals that
reflected the light in a halo around her. Her teeth were brilliantly white, her
eyes large and seductive, her shoulders strong and sculpted. She stood in the
center of a flock of men, all immaculately dressed and sporting various colors
of bow tie.
“There are many beautiful women here tonight, but you, my
dear, are sparkling.”
“What will your wife
say to that?” Lady Carmichael said, relieving the man who had addressed her of
a champagne glass and lightly smacking his hand with her fan.
Neville put the hand in the pocket of his maroon slacks, flashing
her a smile almost as dazzling as the crystals on her dress. “This is the most
splendid outfit I think I’ve ever seen you in.”
“Better than the Moroccan Prince’s cocktail party?”
Neville pursed his lips and nodded. “Better than that—by a
hair.”
“I knew I could rely on your honesty.”
“How many compliments like that have you gotten tonight?”
Lady Carmichael raised her manicured fingers dramatically to
her forehead. “More than I can count.”
“As you deserve. Can you dance in that getup?”
“What a question. What kind of dancing?”
Neville offered her his arm and they proceeded together into
the ballroom. A crystal chandelier caught the light and flung it sparkling
around the room. A handful of young people danced together, brilliant colors
meshing with blacks and blues, as a live band played.
“Unless you prefer a different kind of dancing,” Neville
said. “There’s a disco in the North Ballroom.”
“This is perfect.” Lady Carmichael swept onto the floor in a
shower of sparkles that rivaled the chandelier.
Lady Carmichael was fascinating. Neville couldn’t keep his
eyes off her. As they spun around the room, laughing and chatting, his eyes bored
deep into hers or devoured her face like it was the last beautiful thing on
earth.
When they had had enough of dancing, Neville brought Lady
Carmichael more champagne and they stood in the corner of the room, watching
the others dance.
“How is Angie, Mr. Neville?”
Neville shook his head. “Broke up a few months ago,
actually.”
“Oh?”
“I guess you could say I’m on the market.” Neville showed
all his teeth in a laugh.
“Don’t talk like that. Tell me about the cruise. Did you
know her plans before you went?” Lady Carmichael painted a smile onto her face
and listened.
“No, actually. We went—"
His eyes left her face. His voice trailed off.
Lady Carmichael followed his eyes.
Standing in the doorway was a woman angelic in her beauty. She
wore a sky-blue dress and brilliant white gloves and her brilliant orange hair
cascaded down her back. She caught the eyes of the room as soon as she entered.
In a moment, a dozen young men clustered around her, and within two minutes,
one of them had her as a partner for the dance.
“Excuse me,” Neville said, giving Lady Carmichael a smile
and depositing his wine glass on a table of half-empty glasses. A moment later
he had appeared in the crowd around the new arrival.
The champagne turned bitter in Lady Carmichael’s mouth and
she strode from the room in a forgotten, ignored shimmer of light.
****
“What’s our status?”
“Number 5 has moved from Room G. Guests appear normal.”
“Numbers 3 and 4?”
“3 became unresponsive due to overstimulation from disco
lights. 4 became unresponsive in bathroom 8 while attempting to recalibrate.
The others are still circulating.”
“What room is 5 in right now?”
“B.”
“Good. Keep monitoring.”
****
Lady Carmichael made her way to the bar. She leaned one
elbow on the reflective countertop, watching a knot of people around the
brilliant blue and orange girl.
Their eyes were not turned on her. Neville’s eyes were not
turned on her. She frowned, tapping her fan against the counter.
Lady Carmichael laid her fan on the counter and rose,
striding toward the group like an Amazon on the warpath. She entered the group
in a swirl of sparkles and smiles.
Neville turned to her with a startled look.
Lady Carmichael maneuvered her body to separate him slightly
from the group. “Neville, do introduce me to your friend,” she said under her
breath.
“Oh, yes!” Neville took Lady Carmichael’s elbow. “Alicia,
this is Lady Carmichael.”
Lady Carmichael held out her hand and Alicia shook it
gently. Like a walking doll, she had flawless skin and brilliant eyes.
“Charmed,” Lady Carmichael said. “Will you join me for a
drink?”
The three settled at the bar, where Lady Carmichael called
for a round of drinks. Putting on her widest and most ingratiating smile, she
plied Alicia with questions.
Neville finished his fourth cocktail and smacked the glass
back down on the bar. He leaned toward Lady Carmichael. “You know,” he said
under his breath. “You are the most beautiful woman I had ever seen until I saw
her.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Alicia, who frowned as she pushed three
glasses toward the bartender.
Lady Carmichael signaled for another bottle of champagne and
gave Neville a thin smile.
“Alicia,” Lady Carmichael said, leaning over. “Where did you
go to school?”
The blue and orange girl raised her fourth glass of
champagne. “I went to…Yale. Business degree. Tommy went there too.”
“Tommy?”
Alicia waved her glass. Her eyes were wide and a little too
bright, her movements a little too stiff, her smile too rigid.
“Someone I used to see.”
On her other side, Lady Carmichael felt Neville melt at the
mention of Tommy. She allowed herself a small, secret smile.
Alicia lifted her glass to drain it, mumbling something
about Tommy and his law degree, her cheeks flushed attractively, but as she put
the glass to her lips, her arm convulsed, and the glass flew across the room.
It shattered on the floor to the accompaniment of half a dozen screams. Lady
Carmichael pulled back, startled by the violence of the movement.
Alicia stood up, her entire body shaking, hair flying. Her
dress ripped down the side and she barely made an effort to hold it together.
Her lips had pulled back over her teeth in a wide grimace.
Lady Carmichael screamed. Neville nearly fell off his bar
stool as he pushed back and fled the room.
Alicia fell to the floor. A faint smell of burnt metal
filled the room, and a tiny wisp of smoke rose from Alicia’s mouth. Her torn
dress revealed a network of wires beneath her skin.
Lady Carmichael was left standing over the mess. Once again
all eyes were on her.
****
“What just happened?”
“Overabundance of alcohol, sir. The unit malfunctioned.”
“You mean you made robots that can’t hold their liquor?”
“Regardless, I would call this a success.”
“That depends on how you define success.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, type this up. I want it on my desk as soon as possible.”
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