Square at 09:00. The group included Sierra, the Dugans, Sterling Johnston, Hopewell, Patience, and me. (Whitney’s family had already headed south in their yacht to spend the holidays in the Berry Islands.)
By 09:15, our group of seven kids, four maids, four butlers, two guards, one realtor (Mr. Patterson), and one teacher had loaded up sixteen bags of clothing into the storage bay of the security van. Lena also handed Mrs. Veck two cartons of books for young readers—all Ramiro Fortunato novels—from the book division of SatPub, Mickie Meyers’s parent corporation.
The Highlands’ van was a long gray scary-looking vehicle. It was more like a bus than a van, customized with armor, bombproof sides, and black-tinted, bulletproof windows. It seated between twenty and twenty-five people, depending on the configuration. For this trip, the guards had removed the top-mounted machine gun and stowed it on a rack to the right of the driver, eliminating two seats in the process.
The four butlers—Albert, William, Edward, and James—went over the security plans with the guards. Each butler would carry a Glock 450C, an NLS (non-lethal stun) gun, and an aerosol can of organic repellent. None of these weapons had been used the previous two years, but they decided to keep them in the security plan just in case.
This was to be the first Kid-to-Kid Day for the Dugans. They seemed to have no clue what the day, the field trip, or the gift exchange was all about. Pauline snarled at Mrs. Veck, “Why do we have to go? This sounds so stupid.”
Mrs. Veck smiled kindly. “Well, Pauline, you girls did return your permission slips. They were signed by both of you and by your parents. That permission slip described the trip in great detail. Didn’t you read it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It was too long.”
I commented to Patience, “That, and the fact that she can’t read.”
Pauline snarled, “Shut up!”
Maureen stepped forward. “Maybe I’ll snap your scrawny neck, hor.”
Patience lined up next to me. “Maybe you won’t, dumbass.”
Mrs. Veck interrupted: “Girls, girls. This is a day for giving. And it’s a day for learning.”
This time it was Maureen who snarled, “Learning? It’s Saturday. And we’re supposed to be on Christmas break.”
Mrs. Veck replied, “All school field trips are about learning. And this trip will provide some excellent opportunities. Do you remember our discussion yesterday about King Edward the Seventh?” All of us looked away. She continued, “Well, we’ll be talking about him some more, and about his parents, and about Christmas traditions. A lot of our Christmas traditions come from Edward’s family, and from his era.”
At that moment, Mickie Meyers, Lena, and Kurt the cameraman pulled up in an electric cart. Mickie shouted at us, “Everybody ready to roll?” She didn’t wait for a reply, which is good, because it would have been a long wait. She led her group onto the van, and the rest of us followed.
I sat with Patience near the middle. Mrs. Veck told the rest of the students to sit around us so that she could lecture on the way. Mickie and Kurt set up in the aisle to shoot her speeches and our reactions, should there be any.
Finally the maids and butlers climbed on and dispersed themselves throughout the van. Albert came down the aisle to check our ID cards. These cards, issued by the federal government, were embedded with microchips that contained our personal information. They also served as global tracking devices for any kids who didn’t have them implanted. (Supposedly the cards were hard to come by, but the Dugans bragged that they had cards to prove they were eighteen years old and that they had used them to drink in Bermuda.)
When he’d finished his check, Albert gave a thumbs-up signal to the guard in the driver’s seat and we took off. We drove parallel to the north wall of The Highlands, on the bank of the St. Lucie Canal. Families who
By 09:15, our group of seven kids, four maids, four butlers, two guards, one realtor (Mr. Patterson), and one teacher had loaded up sixteen bags of clothing into the storage bay of the security van. Lena also handed Mrs. Veck two cartons of books for young readers—all Ramiro Fortunato novels—from the book division of SatPub, Mickie Meyers’s parent corporation.
The Highlands’ van was a long gray scary-looking vehicle. It was more like a bus than a van, customized with armor, bombproof sides, and black-tinted, bulletproof windows. It seated between twenty and twenty-five people, depending on the configuration. For this trip, the guards had removed the top-mounted machine gun and stowed it on a rack to the right of the driver, eliminating two seats in the process.
The four butlers—Albert, William, Edward, and James—went over the security plans with the guards. Each butler would carry a Glock 450C, an NLS (non-lethal stun) gun, and an aerosol can of organic repellent. None of these weapons had been used the previous two years, but they decided to keep them in the security plan just in case.
This was to be the first Kid-to-Kid Day for the Dugans. They seemed to have no clue what the day, the field trip, or the gift exchange was all about. Pauline snarled at Mrs. Veck, “Why do we have to go? This sounds so stupid.”
Mrs. Veck smiled kindly. “Well, Pauline, you girls did return your permission slips. They were signed by both of you and by your parents. That permission slip described the trip in great detail. Didn’t you read it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It was too long.”
I commented to Patience, “That, and the fact that she can’t read.”
Pauline snarled, “Shut up!”
Maureen stepped forward. “Maybe I’ll snap your scrawny neck, hor.”
Patience lined up next to me. “Maybe you won’t, dumbass.”
Mrs. Veck interrupted: “Girls, girls. This is a day for giving. And it’s a day for learning.”
This time it was Maureen who snarled, “Learning? It’s Saturday. And we’re supposed to be on Christmas break.”
Mrs. Veck replied, “All school field trips are about learning. And this trip will provide some excellent opportunities. Do you remember our discussion yesterday about King Edward the Seventh?” All of us looked away. She continued, “Well, we’ll be talking about him some more, and about his parents, and about Christmas traditions. A lot of our Christmas traditions come from Edward’s family, and from his era.”
At that moment, Mickie Meyers, Lena, and Kurt the cameraman pulled up in an electric cart. Mickie shouted at us, “Everybody ready to roll?” She didn’t wait for a reply, which is good, because it would have been a long wait. She led her group onto the van, and the rest of us followed.
I sat with Patience near the middle. Mrs. Veck told the rest of the students to sit around us so that she could lecture on the way. Mickie and Kurt set up in the aisle to shoot her speeches and our reactions, should there be any.
Finally the maids and butlers climbed on and dispersed themselves throughout the van. Albert came down the aisle to check our ID cards. These cards, issued by the federal government, were embedded with microchips that contained our personal information. They also served as global tracking devices for any kids who didn’t have them implanted. (Supposedly the cards were hard to come by, but the Dugans bragged that they had cards to prove they were eighteen years old and that they had used them to drink in Bermuda.)
When he’d finished his check, Albert gave a thumbs-up signal to the guard in the driver’s seat and we took off. We drove parallel to the north wall of The Highlands, on the bank of the St. Lucie Canal. Families who
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