The Autumn Engagement

"What do you want?" Janus asked, perturbed.

"I have been asked to extend a personal invitation to the Welch family's Summer Festival."

He looked around for the brochure, found that he was still holding it, and waded it up. Janus crammed the paper wad against the phone's built-in receiver. "Hear that? That's the part that reads I need a synthetic date. Good bye." He punched 'close' and turned away from the phone.

"Signed communications cannot be closed by the receiving party," the phone instructed him.

Janus glared at the phone and saw that the 'open' button still glowed, indicating the caller was still connected.

"Janus Franko?" Another voice, one he couldn't place.

"Another party has entered the conversation. Please stand by for a commercial interruption." Another commercial started playing, but halted less than five seconds into the minute-long program.

"Communication is now secured," the phone instructed him, and the line clicked.

"Free phone service," the new speaker said with disgust. "Janus, this is Victor Welch."

Janus bit his lip and felt his heart race. The voice belonged to one of the wealthiest citizens of the Cascadia Chateau, and the head of the only family that did not sever contact after his pitch caused the Chateau's team to lose to the British team. "Mr. Welch," he said, mustering a polite tone to mask his previous outburst.

"Janus, I called under the ruse of inviting you to my family's party. However, I have another matter that I wish to discuss with you. If you could join me for a brief conversation, I believe it would work out to benefit both of us." Victor Welch's voice had a commanding and refined tone, but came across as benevolent.

"Mr. Welch, I appreciate your hospitable offer, but I'm not sure I'm in much of a position to help myself, much less anyone else."

"Janus," he replied almost immediately. "The matter that I wish to discuss is delicate and one in which you are particularly knowledgeable. In return for your assistance, I will see that you are provided the material appointments you would require to attend my party, or some other reimbursement if you decide that your attendance is not in your best interest."

Janus cupped his palm over his forehead and shook his head again. "Mr. Welch," he started, then decided to investigate the offer rather than express outright denial. "Very well. When should we meet?"

A CONVERSATION ABOUT BASEBALL

"Franko," the synthetic with the grizzled voice from the phone conversation said and motioned him towards the office suite door. Victor Welch's security team had gone to great lengths to create a socially acceptable bodyguard, but there was no mistaking that the synthetic was built around a war chassis. The behemoth's integrated arsenal left few sinuous, human-like lines. Janus now recalled having seen the security guard at various games.

Janus nodded and entered the palatial suite. He was instantly brought back to the world he rued losing when he smelled the alcohol from an open decanter and saw the fine ornamentation embellishing the walls. "Mr. Welch?" he asked, when he didn't see anyone present. It was then he realized that he could not remember what Victor Welch looked like, or if the voice even belonged to the same family. The word 'fool' came to mind.

"In the game of baseball," the voice of the alleged Victor Welch said from the door. He shut it and walked over to a desk on the other side of the suite.

Janus found himself hanging on every word and could only watch the pasty-skinned, very obese Victor Welch make his way across the room.