The Caryatids

Radmila leaned in over the table. "That was a very good monologue, Lionel. I feel proud of you. But that's extremely radical, and you're really pushing it. You can't just abrogate the legal process and set fire to large urban areas! Acquis pundits would show up and they'd hit us over the nose with a broomstick. That's just not how our Family-Firm does business in this town."

"Yes, I know that I'd be a scandal-but think in the long term. I'd just go into a dry-out clinic. That's all that would happen to me. Because I'm a kid! So I take a year off...over in...what the hell's that stupid island...in Mljet! Mljet would be perfect for the story. It's, like, wall-to-wall Acquis rehabilitation geeks over there. So: I go put on their neural helmet, their exoskeleton, their whole nine meters...That doesn't scare me! That's all very newsworthy. We just feed the people my ongoing personal scandal, we blow that spectacle up as big as it needs to get. They get obsessed with me-me, the star-and they just forget about the massive urban fires and the rocket explosions. I personally overshadow all of that. And my adventure costs our Family, what? The fare for my cruise ship? My reputation as a sweet-tempered kid? It costs us nothing ! And in return-we'd liberate a huge, booming acreage of real estate in the world's most dynamic city!"

"Mila, you talk some sense into him."

"Glyn, he is talking sense. Pure Dispensation sense. That could really be made to pay."

"He wants to provoke a huge urban riot! He's going to burn down the slums in Los Angeles with an armed mob!"

"He's even smarter than his big brother. I didn't know that. Our Family-Firm has some true depth-of-talent."

Glyn was furious. "You're taking his side to annoy me! You know that isn't a reasonable policy! You're giving me all kinds of grief just because I'm not a star like you and him!"

Lionel smirked at her. "Glyn, you're always claiming that you want to produce, and not be a star. Okay, great, fine: Take my proposal to the Family-Firm. Go on, I dare you to put my plan onto their agenda! Those old-school folks have got some guts! You're a geek and a bean counter."

Defeated, Glyn turned angrily on Radmila. "You don't have any more sense than he does! I thought at least I could trust you to stay within your budget."

Radmila blinked. "What do you mean-you mean my space summit? 'The Theodora Montgomery Memorial Forum'? I know that's not some easy weekend in Bohemian Grove, but that'll pay off for us ten times over in the long run. Didn't you see how happy Buffy got when I tasked her to plan that? Buffy always wanted to be a political hostess."

Glyn scowled. "No, Mila, I didn't mean your Family duties. I meant your extravagances."

"My what? What extravagances? My hair? My skin? My mitochondrial upgrades? I'm totally pacing myself! You're making me have a baby."

"I mean your shopping sprees, Mila!"

Lionel was immediately interested. "What stuff did you buy? Was it nice?"

"I don't even know what Glyn's talking about."

"I've never interfered in your private purchases," Glyn said primly, "but the budget flagged me when you started going crazy...and with what ? A hundred pairs of couture shoes, perfumes, lingerie, whole crates of bad Napa Valley champagne?"

Radmila was appalled. "When did that ever happen?"

"Two weeks. Three weeks. Since you took over the Family. You lost control: what happened to you?"

Lionel was agog. "Wow! John likes perfumes and lingerie?"

"What, is your brother crazy? John's a political activist, he likes girls who are weird refugees! Look: I don't have any time to shop for myself! I'm always in the gym or on the set! If I have one spare minute, I sleep!"

"Mila, if you didn't buy those things, who did?"

"It wasn't me. The last thing I personally bought was...I think I bought cousin Rishi some garden tools for a birthday present."

Glyn was intelligent, so it didn't take her long to defeat her false assumptions. "I was really stupid. I should have known that some idiot embezzled all that stuff. Someone is pretending to be Mila Montalban."

"Wow, that's identity theft!" said Lionel. "I thought that was impossible! I mean, they've got all kinds of secure biometrics and stuff."

Glyn and Radmila said nothing.

Lionel bulled on. "You know, I mean biometric security for your credit purchases-like, they measure your body so they know it can only be you."

Radmila put her fork aside and rubbed at her aching eyes.

"Okay, now I get it," said Lionel. "There is someone here who is just like you. There's a clone loose here in Los Angeles."

Glyn and Radmila glared at him silently.

"I mean, another clone besides both of you two gals. A clone who's like an evil-twin identity."

The two of them exchanged glances.