The evening’s festivities were supposed to take the form of a matsuri, in keeping with the hotel’s theme. Skinny Tie and all the other staff vN encouraged visitors to proceed through the garden, and start their journey in the Sengoku Jidai era of the hotel, and proceed through the Meiji, Taisho, Showa, and Heisei eras until they approached the heart of Akiba. There, the hotel’s investors and designers would all be waiting. They had done a media event earlier in the day to answer questions, but this would be a special evening for preferred guests and high-rollers.
“Please, take these,” one of the samurai vN told him, and handed him a set of high-value poker chips. “Tonight’s winnings go to benefit the victims of the radioactive fallout.”
Javier winced. “It’s been rough for you guys, I take it?”
The samurai’s smile faltered. “This is just about the worst possible time to open a vN-friendly casino, yes. I believe Thematic is taking a huge loss.”
Javier nodded. “And the designer? Holberton? How’s he taking it?”
The vN rolled his eyes. “Mr Holberton already has his next thing lined up.”
“Oh?”
“We’re not supposed to talk about it.”
“Message received.”
Javier was tempted to sprint ahead and get to Holberton as soon as possible, but there was no need to rush. Holberton would actually be more vulnerable and amenable after a few drinks. The key would be to get him at a point in the party when he honestly wanted to leave. That probably wasn’t going to be at the beginning.
So he meandered through the festival. The whole thing revolved around old-fashioned games of chance: ring tosses and fishing and even some archery competitions. The vN who initiated each competition hawked them from thatch-roofed dwellings, from which they also sold pressed balls of rice and skewered chicken livers. All of these came in vN-friendly varieties, too. In fact, a significant proportion of the people sharing the festival with him were vN. None of them looked like Amy. It was as though she’d been erased.
The end of the festival opened into a relatively blank space: pine floors, white walls, blown glass pendant lights, crackled but colourless. It was a nice change. Like a vent of fresh air. And standing in the centre of the room was Chris Holberton. Javier recognized him from behind: his hair was eye-catchingly white. He wore a navy blue suit. His hands were in his pockets. Then he turned, to gesture at the entryway. When he saw Javier, he smiled. He recognized him, Javier realized. Recognized his face, probably. It had been in the news a great deal.
Now or never. Javier crossed the room.
“Welcome to Akiba,” Holberton said. He held out his hand. “I’m Chris Holberton. Are you with the press?”
“I’m a guest.” Javier shook it. “Ricardo Montalban.”
Holberton laughed so loud, other people turned to look at the two of them. His laugh was more of a snicker. It sounded almost childish. Javier liked it immediately.
“That’s great! I can’t believe it! Where did you learn about him?”
Javier shrugged. “Online. Movies. You know.”
Holberton stopped laughing, and looked him up and down. “It suits.” He gestured with his gaze. “What are you doing here, Mr Montalban?”
“Please. Ricardo.”
“All right, Ricardo. What are you doing here?”
Honesty was, in certain cases, the best policy. “I wanted to meet you.”
Holberton blinked. He was very fair; even his eyelashes were blond. “Most of the people in this room want to meet me, Ricardo. What makes you so different?”
Javier smiled. “What makes me different is that I didn’t want to meet you until you smiled at me.”
Holberton smiled like a child who had just been handed a very large, extravagantly-wrapped present. His mouth opened to say something. Naturally, one of the Rory chose that moment to intervene. She spoke to Holberton, but she looked at Javier.
“Mr Holberton, one of the Dubai people would like to speak with you,” she said.
Holberton rolled his eyes. “I’ll find you later.”
“No,” Javier said. “I’ll find you.”
Holberton turned away, and two vN closed in on Javier. He felt them before he saw them. “Mr Montalban,” one said, “there appears to be an issue with your account.”
They were dressed like Skinny Tie, but they weren’t the same exact vN from the lobby. They walked him through an Employees Only door just outside the pachinko parlour. It opened into a bright but narrow hallway broken on one side by steel doors. Once they were through, they took his pen.
“What are your names? I just call all the girls Rory. It saves me some time.”
“You don’t have to worry about that any longer, Mr Peterson.”
They turned him to the left, and guided him through one of the steel doors. The room was dark. As he entered, the lights came on. There was one aluminum folding chair, and a drain in the floor. He looked up. No cameras. Unfinished ceiling. Good. He turned around. The two vN were waiting with folded hands.
“Can I at least take my jacket off?” Javier asked. “This suit cost me a lot money.”