Page 111 of Even Robots Die
But I don't need to say anything, it seems.
“I’ll lend you the money,” Brice says, and I want to stop him. If he does that, he will never see a single euro again. “But I want you to pay your debts today and to go to Notre Dame right after. There will be a room for you there. You’ll be expected to give a hand for whatever Elhyor will need your help with. You’re not to go outside without surveillance, and your bank account will be monitored starting now.”
“You can do that?” I ask Brice.
“I can’t. Luc, on the other hand, can. You’re not the only one good with a holo-puter,” Brice tells me with a wink.
I’m shocked. Not by what he said about Luc. I've heard a bit about him. No, what shocks me is that damn wink he just threw at me like it was completely normal.
Who is this and what have they done to the Brice I know?
“Why do I need to go to Notre Dame? Can’t I do that from home?” Dad asks, as if he could still negotiate the terms of … his surrender?
“The birds attacked me when I came back to find you. The house is in no shape to be lived in,” I tell him.
“They’re going to pay for the damage, I tell you,” Dad starts to say, but I stop him mid-sentence with a raised hand.
“They’re not going to pay anything. Paris is at war. If you think you can get the birds to pay for anything, you’re delusional. The girls are already at Notre Dame, anyway.”
“If you need anything in particular from your house, I’ll send a team,” Brice adds when I’m done. “How long do you need for this to be handled?”
Dad looks back the way he came, and I have to wonder if he’s thinking about squeezing another fuck in before being stuck in Notre Dame.
“A couple hours,” he says. “Maybe four at the maximum, depending on when they can receive me.”
“Good. We will see you at Notre Dame in four hours, then,” Brice says as he brings his hand to the small of my back to usher me out of this—nicely decorated but, nonetheless—hell hole.
“What about the money?” Dad asks before we reach the broken door at the entrance.
“Florentine can take care of it,” Brice says, and then we’re out of the apartment and walking down the stairs.
62
Brice
Ihate the man. I know Stéphane is Florentine’s father, but that doesn’t change the fact he’s a messed up father.
And I know what I'm talking about. Even deprived of my emotions, I still knew to take care of Cassiopé or to at least reach her when she needed. And she knows she can always count on me.
Emotions or not, there was never a doubt in her mind or mine that I would always be there for her.
Stéphane has full access to his emotions, and still he manages to fuck things up.
I’m not even sure he deserves the title of father.
We talked to him for barely a few minutes and in that little time he demonstrated that he was irresponsible, incapable of handling money the right way, and it would take nothing for him to choose a woman over his own daughters.
He’s too happy to let Florentine deal with the girls.
Life has been easy on him, and he doesn’t even realize it.
Right this instant, all I want is to fly Florentine as far from the man as I can.
I know that’s not what is about to happen, though.
Florentine is going to want to be here when her father arrives at Notre Dame. She’s going to want to help him settle, like she would have done with her sisters if she hadn’t been healing from two bullet wounds this afternoon.
She’s also going to want to explain to her sisters what is going to happen now that we’ve found him.
