In the Garden of Iden (Company)
Page 31
“This is a tropical paradise,” she informed me.
“Nice. Thank you,” I said, took the portfolio, and headed for the exit.
Neat doors. A bas-relief sculpture of two jaguars rampant, battling with each other. When I got close enough, the jaguars disengaged as the doors slid apart, vanishing into silhouettes. A blaze of white light struck through the doorway. I stepped out. I faced heat. Light. Complex smells and sounds. A horizon of towering green as far as the eye could see, a mild and tolerable green, out to the edges of a blue sky transparent with the intensity of sunlight. Off to the west, a city of red and white pyramids: New World One. And here, right before me, four mortals and a man of my own kind. The mortals, all four, dropped on their faces.
“Hail, child of gods!” they cried.
I stared at them, dumbfounded, and then up at the Old One. He looked amused. He was a vision in white: white doublet and white trunk hose, white skin, white canvas conquistador’s helmet. His hair and pointed beard were flaming red. He was lounging in an open sedan chair. “Welcome to New Spain,” he said.
“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” I inquired.
“Quetzalcoatl,” he replied. “As it were.” The mortals got to their feet, and they too were a sight to behold, each one clothed like a Mayan prince in gold and feathers. Their faces were sad and noble; they had big high cheekbones, curved noses, and sullen mouths. I swallowed hard. I looked past them at the guy in the sedan chair.
“Botanist Mendoza reporting in,” I said. My voice didn’t shake at all.
“Personnel Coordinator Victor, at your service.” He made room for me on the seat beside him. “Hop in, and we’ll take you to your suite. Boys, collect the lady’s luggage.”
As we were jogged along, he said:
“A protégée of Joseph’s, eh?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve just spent two years in the field? In the Old World? How grueling.”
“Yes, it was.”
“My word.” He leaned back. We went sailing by mahogany trees like standing gods. “Well, life is just a little more gracious in these parts. You’ll like it. Joseph pushed quite a few buttons to get you in here, you know. Any questions I can answer for you?”
“Do you have flush toilets and hot showers?”
He smirked. “And four restaurants. And an eighteen-hole golf course. And cocktails served in the main courtyard every afternoon at four.” He glanced at his chronophase. “We’ll be in plenty of time. We’re mostly scholars here, and we enjoy our little rituals.”
Wow.
“What about the—” I gestured at our mortal bearers, their plumed hats waving as they ran. “Isn’t this kind of exploitive?”
“No, no, it’s prestigious for them. They’re all intercepted sacrifices. This way they get to be Servants of the Gods without dying. We acquire most of our mortal staff that way. They’re the most devoted fellows you could imagine.”
“No kidding?” A red stucco wall rose before us, and we were carried in through the gate. Victor gave me a tour around: acres of plush lawn, fountains, courtyards, flowers, water-lily pools, parrots. The chaos of the jungle outside, but within the perimeter of that high wall, absolute manicured control.
“Boys, Botany Residential Pyramid.” Victor waved an arm. He leaned back beside me as they took us down a boulevard toward a white palace. “The red building over there is the botany lab, and the gardens are on the other side. The residential suites are really first-rate. There’s a PX on the first floor and laundry facilities, though I’m afraid we’ve had some complaints because Botany Residential has to share its pool and gymnasium with Support Tech Residential. Yes, a few ruffled feathers over that. I hope you won’t feel slighted.”
I looked at him sidelong. “I’ll manage,” I told him.
We pulled up in front of Botany Residential, and Victor took me into the concierge’s office, where we registered my retinal pattern, and so up to my suite. Four rooms, all for me. The walls were smooth bare plaster, and there any resemblance to a cell stopped.
“Complete entertainment center here.” Proudly Victor swung open the doors of a vast console. “It’s tied in to our library. Over forty million entries to choose from, and here’s the receiver for Radio Maya. Liquor cabinet over there, sauna over there. You’re scheduled to meet with your departmental director at 1830 hours for your briefing.”
“Great.” Business at last. “Where’s the director’s office?”
“Oh, he’s reserved a booth at El Galleon.” At my blank stare Victor added, “Our premier restaurant. Formal dress, of course. If you call the porter service from the lobby desk, a pair of the boys can take you there in ten minutes, though I should tell you—” he lowered his voice a little—“it’s considered correct to attend cocktail service at half past four precisely and remain until six, and then arrive early for dinner.”
“Oh.”
“Etiquette,” he explained. “It’s very important here.”
“I see.”
“I’m sure you’ll fit in quite well. I’ll just toddle on now and leave you to your own devices; daresay you’d like privacy while you unpack. If you have any other questions, the answers are most probably in your arrival packet. I’d suggest you read it through before your briefing.”
“I will, thank you.”
He bowed, and I curtseyed, and I was alone again.
By the time I had showered, dressed, tested the bed and the holo reception, it was almost 1600 hours. I decided to walk to the main courtyard on my own legs. I wasn’t really up to being a goddess in a chariot yet. Besides, I found the Mayan profile disconcerting.
So of course the cocktail waiters were all Mayans.
“What would the Daughter of Heaven prefer?” mine inquired politely, putting down a napkin at my elbow. I was unnerved but stared hard at him: no resemblance at all, really. Not straight on.
“What have you got there?” I nodded at his tray.
“Dry vodka martini. Tequila on the rocks, rum and soda, rum and tonic, margarita. Might this slave suggest the margarita?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
He set it down and glided off. I settled back and picked up my arrival packet. There was a round spreading oil stain on the cover: whoops. My Theobromos had melted. I opened the front and peeled my complimentary stick off the first page of the brochure in order to read all about New World One and its calendar of social events for the coming year.
After a while, though, my attention wandered. The breeze through the white arches of the court was very pleasant, and the splashing of the central fountain was pleasant too, as was the chattering of the little green parrots in among the flowering vines. How soothing it all was. I could sit here, just like this, for years and years. I probably would, wouldn’t I?
I only became aware that my eyes had filled with tears when I noticed some commotion in the treetops, far off outside the perimeter wall. I blinked and looked again. There were monkeys out there fighting, screaming and pelting one another with rotten fruit.
Shuddering, I reached for my drink.
Tor Books by Kage Baker
The Anvil of the World
The Children of the Company
The Graveyard Game
In the Garden of Iden
The Life of the World to Come
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
IN THE GARDEN OF IDEN
First published in the United States by Harcourt Brace & Company
Copyright © 1997 by Kage Baker
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Co
ngress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Baker, Kage.
In the garden of Iden: a novel of the company / Kage Baker.
p. cm.
ISBN: 978-1-42-991047-7
1. Title.
PS3552.A4313I5 1998
813′.54—dc21
97-23284