124. Awards Ceremony

As I got into my suit in the limo, I told Burbank how much I appreciated it that he had rescued me from that nightmare so that I could get my award. He explained that it was more than that. He’s much cleverer than I am. He pointed out that the award might not just be an award. He’s referring, of course, to what the tour guide said earlier. As he understands it, with the bike helmet and the antenna, and the award, we will be able to assemble a communicator and bargain with the aliens to get the publishing house back.

When we got in the dinner hall, they’d already begun introductions. We slipped in quietly and sat down next to Lenore who looked shocked out of her socks to see me. I realized that Burbank had not shared his ingenious plan with her. She never would have approved, having complete faith in every quack doctor roaming the streets. I decided I didn’t want to talk to her. She’d broken my fragile little heart ditching me like that.

It was a fairly good ceremony. Acceptance speeches were short and there were no heinous interruptions by musical acts. People won awards for all sorts of literary feats. I recognized some of the writers there, but I didn’t say hello because I was feeling dizzy and flustered with everything that was happening. I was also beginning to worry about my own category. My fellow nominees were talented and perhaps I’d been a little egocentric to assume that just because I was a huge success in America, I would win this award.