Jake paused for several seconds, wishing she was just a little less rude. When he felt in control of himself again he forced a chuckle and said, “Nothing like that. Basic contracts with some local landscaping and other maintenance companies, and a small army of high school kids every summer. My mother used to enjoy coordinating it all, and now” —
“Not interested,” she said, and then contradicted herself. “You’re claiming this is all done by humans?”
“Umm,” he said. “Well, yes. Of course they use machines. We have a couple yard robots that” —
“You don’t have little people running all over here every night? Folk, somebody called them?”
“Doctor Kessler, you’re trying to make something out of nothing. Your comment about plantations reminds me, though. This area has a rich history of immigrants, both as artisans and as heavy laborers. I don’t think history, at least popular history, has adequately told the story of either. When I was in college” — 
“Not interested,” she snapped. “Don’t try to change the subject. What’s your relationship with the community to the north?”