New Digs

The embassy was impressive, even to a person of James's experience. Luxury radiated from every point, tangible as desert sand: not as gritty but just as potent. He scanned his surroundings automatically as he walked to his room, taking in the ornate woodwork and high-end furniture. It was unnerving, bordering on the line that separated elegant from gaudy. Definitely not the place for late-night snack raids.

Inside his room it was more of the same. Dark mahogany wood blended perfectly with low-lit scones and smooth beige and violet themes. The wallpaper was exquisite, far beyond anything James had seen before. An idea seized him and he leaned in to examine the wall. Those flowers weren't manufactured in China: they were painted by hand, each petal meticulously crafted with the most vibrant shades of purple. James turned around in awe, staring at the tiny little blossoms parading up and down the entire room in alternating patterns of blooming. It was absolutely incredible. The entire room had been man-made, down to the last detail.

On a whim, James peeped into the bathroom. Decadence oozed out of every feature, dripping like sweat from pores. The large tub stood on four clawed feet with gold enamel. The sink and counter glistened as if made of pearl, and the toilet stood like the idol in the midst of a temple, gold finishing crawling up like vines on either side.

James quickly shut the door and sucked in a deep breath, feeling light-headed. A sweet fragrance filled his nostrils: had to be a filter in the air system. Everything here spoke of lavish living, a wild Epicurean toast of joie de vivre.

And they expected him to go from troop life to high society, just like that. Zero to sixty in less than a day. None of the expenses meant for his convenience impressed him. It was all so irreverent, almost sacrilegious: there were people dying out there. Was their blood paying for all this?