The Tower by J.S. Frankel Page A

“Thanks, busboy. You’ve been of great assistance,” she said sarcastically. She picked up her trays again, served herself a mountain of food and turned her back on me. Everyone watched her leave in silence, but something inside me wanted to come out. It was my voice.
    â€œMy name’s Bill,” I called out loudly.
    That stopped her in her tracks. She turned slowly to face me. “What?”
    â€œIt’s Bill, Bill Lampkin. I’m a cook, not a busboy,” I repeated. Where’d that bit of ballsiness come from? Not only did Oriana look at me, but also the cooking staff was staring, along with the techs and even some of the Ultras.
    I continued, my voice a little stronger: “I don’t mind helping you, but I wanna be thanked for it.” I started cooking again. “That’s the least y’could do.” I kept my head down, spatula working busily. Something made me look up and when I did, Oriana was standing and staring at me, a slightly quizzical look on her face. “What?”
    â€œThanks,” she said flatly, dropped her trays with a clatter and stalked out. Guess she’d be eating in her room today. Naturally, it fell to me to clean up the mess she’d made.
    â€œYou really cheesed her off,” said Gwyneth. She’d given me the lowdown on who was nice and who wasn’t. Oriana fell into the “wasn’t” category.
    â€œUh, doesn’t anyone ever say anything?”
    Gwyneth shook her head. “No,” she answered, “they give the orders; we follow them.” She paused for a moment. “Glad you stood up to her, Bill,” she added. “She can be a bit too pushy sometimes, y’know?”
    â€œPushy?”
    â€œBitchy,” repeated another cook.
    Uh-huh .
    â€œFirst time for everything,” chuckled John. He laughed a little. “Put ’em in their place once in a while is okay by me,” he added and then threw me a towel. “Alright, you screwed up breakfast but at least you know how to clean. I want it sparkling, okay?”
    Cleaning away the dishes and mopping the floor took another two hours-plus and then I had lunch with the staff. They chatted about various and sundry things but I was still thinking about Oriana. I didn’t contribute to the conversation all that much, but I did learn that while they were very much into the work thing, almost all of them didn’t figure on hanging around forever.
    â€œHey, bud,” John started. “I’m almost fifty. I got a wife down on Earth and two kids. Got enough money put away, so it’s retirement for me soon. You stay up here long enough and big bucks or not, planet-side will start looking pretty good to you, too.”
    Nick, the guy who’d been verbally demolished by Black Guardsman earlier on, told me that he wanted to go back to school and get a graduate degree in Political Science, maybe work up here again later on. “I like the job, Bill. Like John said, the money’s good but nothing lasts forever. I’ve got to think of the future, y’know?”
    Yeah, I did know, but I wasn’t thinking about the cash thing, all I could think of was how much I’d screwed up that morning. “Don’t let it get to you,” Nick told me. “You’ll catch on sooner or later.” Lunch continued and I was silent all the way through it. After that, everyone broke off and went their separate ways.
    The next two weeks after that breakfast battle with Oriana saw me slowly getting used to cooking, learning about Tower ops and doing some studying on my own. Since I was here, it was best to try and make a few contacts, so back to the Recreation Room I went. Some people were playing cards, and casually wandering over, asked if there was a game I could join in. “Mind if I join you?” was a lot better than “Can I play, please?” so intros were all taken care of, but conversation was tough.