Experience is just what he needs.

Sir Williard,

I fell asleep reasonably quickly last night in spite of the narrowness of the bed and my austere surroundings. In truth, any bed in any room would feel inadequate after the magnificent four poster of the Edwardian. As I was saying, with little to do and a big day ahead of me, I retired to my bed early and promptly fell asleep. However, I must report that I got very little if any real rest. Over and over again I woke from troubling dreams; they varied in setting and time period but the essence of each one of them was basically the same erotic trope. In each I was a powerful man surveying a collection of beautiful young women of all different body types and nationalities picking out for my pleasure those that were most pleasing. I recall being a Sultan at a **** market of the middle-east assessing a string of new slaves for his hareem, a headmaster carefully inspecting the uniforms of female students for violations and selecting three of the lovely young women for special discipline and finally a Visagoth warlord stripping the toga's from a half dozen weeping young Roman captives in chains. I expect there were more of these scenarios but they all blended together as dreams tend to.

I have had, like most young men, erotic dreams in my past, but as a teenager - not for the past five years at least. I can only blame this regression on a conversation I had with my manservant which I will recount later. I should also note that in each of the dreams several of the young woman looked like the lovely teen-aged daughters of the Company men I observed at the Edwardian Royal and others might well have been Saminya or her younger sisters.

I admit to being decidedly irritable as I broke my fast wondering if I would continue to have these powerful dreams rob me of my much needed rest night after night. Sensing my disposition Andrews served my breakfast in silence. I had toast with bitters and a soft boiled egg that I had to eat from a saucer as the place-settings that Andrews had procured yesterday did not come with egg cups. I nibbled on the toast and sipped at my tea and my mood improved slightly as I marveled at how well the food was prepared, not just this morning but last night's dinner too.

That meal had been served to me by Andrews at the desk that is functioning, for now at least, as a dining room table as well as where I do all of my writing and much of my thinking. The tall, dark-skinned man had changed into a starched white jacket and silver tie that nicely matched the silver of his curly hair. The jacket must have at one point been folded into his rucksack but it had not one wrinkle anywhere on it. I remember thinking at the time that I should have changed into my diner jacket after all. Diner was a rustic sort of meal because of the conditions, there was no soup or fish courses, just roast fowl served with native tubers that had been baked in the warm ashes of the fire. Andrews apologized for the simplicity of the meal and assured me that retaining a cook was high on his list of priorities. In spite of the primitive nature of the meal, Andrews was as formal as if we were eating with the king himself. He chose to remain standing slightly behind me as I ate, filling my water glass twice, but otherwise leaving me to my own thoughts.

"I'd like to get these damn aetherlamps working too." I believe my swearing startled Andrews but by the time I finished the last mouthful of juicy fowl the glow bulbs were barely glimmering. I had fiddled with several of lamps during the day but with no luck. After a split second of silence to indicate his displeasure at my choice of adjective, Andrews postulated that the house resonator had most likely been turned off by the last occupants as they left. He quickly added that he had some experience with the machinery in his last placement, with luck the aetherworks in the house could all function properly once the resonance generator was running smoothly. With a full stomach and the hope of plenty of light as well as all the other modern luxuries that aether makes possible, I was in a much better mood as I chatted with Andrews about filling the various positions in my household.

He asked me how I felt about the Irish, as he knew of an Irishwoman who was an excellent cook. I have to admit Sir Williard that I have had only limited experience with our wild cousins of the Emerald island and the idea of being poisoned by a hateful cook did not appeal to me in the least. However, I am now living on a new planet, and I was willing to hear him out. I asked Andrews about the woman's politics, and how she had come to Rajah-4. He told me that he had known the woman for over a dozen years and that she didn't dislike Englishmen any more than any other men. I could not tell if he was making a joke or not and decided that until I knew him better I would not take the chance at laughing at my new gentleman's gentleman. According to Andrews, this person had been sent into exile her on Rajah-4 with her husband and sons over twenty-five years ago as some of the first penal workers to mine soma-ore. The men had been arrested drinking in a public house with a known separatist provocateur. Apparently, when the philandering husband took up with a younger woman, the Irishwoman swore off all men including her own sons. The information did not sway me much into favoring the decision to retain her as my cook as much as when my man swore to me that this cook prepared the best steak and kidney pie on all of Rajah system.

In Andrews' opinion getting a gardener would not be difficult, as he knew several men looking for work any of them would be qualified to tend to the villa's grounds. He then paused slightly and even though he was new to my service, I sensed that the next topic would be a little more sensitive. By this time we had moved out onto the patio carefully closing the French doors behind us to keep out any of the oversized mosquitoes out of the villa. He lit a cigar for me with a gold lighter that had a clear blue flame and allowed me several good puffs to get the tobacco smoldering properly before he spoke.

"Sir," he began so carefully that I made a special note of his words. "The maidservants that I will be hiring," he paused again "are there any special skills or appearances that you find particularly desirable?" I didn't follow the direction of his question so I said nothing. He then asked by way of explanation "Do you have a preference for a particular body type or ethnicity? There are still some available girls of Hindustani blood, but if you prefer paler flesh, many young ladies from the Russo-Ural province have been arriving, sisters or even twins perhaps." It took me this long to grasp where he was going but I couldn't find a way to stop his dialogue "Of course I have many contacts in the Afro community if you like dark skinned girls and I've heard that the recent arrivals from the Philippines are - " I finally stopped him with, perhaps in hindsight, more **** than was needed as the man really was just trying to do his job to the best of his ability. I told him that I expected the maids to perform household chores and nothing else. I added sternly that I did not want any of my employees to engage in any sexual behaviors that would bring dishonour to me or on my house.

"As you say, Sir." Andrews tone was even and in the dim light from the glowbulb bushes several yards away I could not see any reaction on his face but I sensed that this was a departure from normal procedures here on Rajah-4. I can only hope, Sir Williard, that my man will not bring up this distasteful topic again and that today's work on the resonator will allow me to sleep tonight, I cannot face the uncertainties of a first day on the job with blurry eyes and lack of complete concentration.