Chapter 30. Life in the Palace
The plane that met Moses at the airstrip in Kakamega was probably the biggest that had ever landed there. It must have been specifically designed to take off and land in a short distance, because the airstrip itself was little more than an extended football field.
Moses was the only passenger, but he had his own hostess, who not only served him food and drinks, but massaged his feet and adjusted the lighting and entertainment system to suit the young man's wishes. His wishes were few. He had no interest in watching videos, and he was content to let her choose the music, food, and drinks But the foot massage was good, and each time she asked if he had had enough, he would request more. She cheerfully and obediently complied. The massage only ended when it was time for the hostess to buckle up for landing in Tel Aviv, several hours later.
When they arrived at their destinaton, they were greeted by a man only a few years older than Moses who was dressed like a bank manager. "Welcome to Tel Aviv!" he said. "My name is Moshe, and I will be your companion. If you have need of anything, you should just ask me, and I will tend to it."
The new arrival was taken by limousine to the palace in Jerusalem, and shown to his quarters. Moshe stood with his feet apart and his hands clasped behind his back as Moses inspected the spacious bedroom. It came with a small library along one wall, massive desk, leather lounge, fridge, bar, and state of the art entertainment system. And that was just the bedroom. It was quite late in the day, and so Moshe promised to show Moses around the rest of the palace the next morning.
"If you have need of anything during the night, just pull this cord," he said, reaching out toward a thick golden rope that hung from somewhere up in the ceiling. I will be in the room next door, and I will come to you immediately."
So much had happened and so much had changed since Moses had first experienced Western luxuries in Chicago, at the age of 14. At that time, every little novelty had come charged with excitement, wonder, and, in some cases, a little fear. Now he was ten years older, and totally impervious to all that he saw, even though the luxuries were more impressive than ever. He believed that he should be there. That was all. But he had no idea why.
The next day, Moses was taken around the rest of the palace, which was equipped with every possible comfort. Nothing in the whole building showed even the slightest signs of wear. In the afternoon, there was a brief tour of the area between the palace and the Temple Mount. He and Moshe rode in the same limousine that had met him at the airport.
"This will be your own private limousine," Moshe had told him. "If you have need of anything, a driver will be on duty to take you there at any time of the day or night." This news, too, left him unimpressed.
"You will be able to get anything that you want, even without the mark," Moshe continued. The horrific wound had blown away Moses' microchip implant.
Back in Shinyalu, after the accident, Moses had been able to collect payment from customers, using his scanner. But when it came to him spending money, there had been some uncertainty within the village, and especially in Kakamega about what he should do. However, in the months between his time in hospital and his departure for Jerusalem, those who recognised him had simply extended him credit, buoyed by the announcement that the General Secretary had visited the hospital, and by the rumour that he had invited Moses to come and live with him. As they had all been hoping, Barasa later made sure that anyone who had helped Moses was amply rewarded.
But Moshe told Moses that in Jerusalem, and shortly, anywhere else in the world, he would be able to purchase anything at all, just by using Danchao's name. He had no need of a mark, either in his missing hand or in his now missing forehead. Locals had already been informed, and soon (when Dangchao found time for a press conference to deal with the matter), anyone in the world would be expected to recognise him as being part of Levi Xu Dangchao's royal family. Moses tested it out by getting a few clothes, but other than that, he had little interest in buying anything, since he had more than he needed back at the palace anyway.
Moses never saw Dangchao himself until almost two weeks after he arrived, and then it was almost by chance, as they passed in the hallway.
"Ah, Moses Chikati! So good to see you," the Secretary-General exclaimed when he saw him.
"Hello," Moses said quietly.
"So how is everything? Are they taking good care of you? Do you like it here?"
"I have all that I need," Moses answered haltingly. He added a drawn out, "Thank you."
"We have a press conference planned for next Thursday," Dangchao announced. "I want the world to know that you are my son. Moshe will tell you what to say."
In fact, Moshe had been preparing him for more than a week already. There was a speech therapist, working overtime to improve on his voice, but Moses' primary duty at the palace had been to work with a physiotherapist who had been assigned the task of getting his facial muscles to form a smile. He could now make the corners of his lips draw up into his cheeks, enough to create a reasonable imitation of his trademark grin. The main problem, however, was that he still had to consciously will himself to do it; there was nothing spontaneous about it, because he had no sensations to make him feel like smiling.
ButnMoshe had conditioned Moses to hear and respond to a signal that was only just barely audible to the human ear. Using this signal, Moshe could get him to make the smile at appropriate spots in the speech, which he (Moshe) had prepared. Together they might be able to convince the world that the old Moses was still alive.