Trickster

CHAPTER FIVE

Gretchen slid through the crowd, avoiding elbows and insteps. Ken Jeung, head of the Collection's medical department, walked purposefully ahead of her. Jeung always walked purposefully, and somehow people always got out of his way. This made it hell to shadow him through the crowds on SA Station, and Gretchen's nerves were already wracked with the effort of doing so without attraction attention — his or Security's. The fact that he was short and dark-haired didn't make trailing him any easier, since he tended to blend in with other humans.

The shimmering lights of FunSec jumped and capered all around Gretchen. Laughter bubbled out of casinos along with the jingling of metal chits. The only illumination was provided by the thousands of moving, glittering lights that flashed the names of the establishments or projected giant holograms toward the faraway ceiling, providing street entertainment and, incidentally, slowing traffic as people stopped to watch. Gretchen suspected the latter effect was a way of making sure people didn't breeze past the casinos, theaters, and restaurants without looking at them. Currently, a three-story tall human salsa dancer in a red dress was doing a highly suggestive routine with a tall green alien, and both were getting a lot of attention from just about everyone except Jeung.

Gretchen stepped around a waist-high creature with long fur and stubby legs, dodged between two humans, and sidestepped something that reminded her of a walking tree. Humans were a majority on SA Station, but only barely, and Gretchen couldn't identify many of the non-humans. Most of the different species had their own enclaves, but a great deal of mixing went on in FunSec.

The travel corridor was so tall and wide Gretchen found herself thinking of it as a street, complete with sidewalks, doors, windows, and vehicle traffic. Restaurants scented the air with smells of fried food, baked sweets, and other aromas Gretchen couldn't identify. Humans and non-humans chattered among themselves and with each other while dry computer voices provided translations. Music boomed overhead to accompany the holographic dancers. Vehicles zipped up and down the street, hovering just above the metal flooring. Crowded walkways made zigzags and lattices far above ground level. The only greenery came from the occasional potted tree. The erratic lighting, designed to make FunSec always feel like a night-time fun spot, left large chunks of shadow, and Gretchen used them to her advantage while following Jeung.

Jeung turned a corner and Gretchen hurried to catch up. By now she was fairly sure of her quarry's destination, but she didn't want to take a chance on being wrong. Her suspicions were confirmed when she reached the next street and saw Jeung mount a short flight of red-carpeted steps that led to a set of gold-rimmed obsidian doors. A uniformed door attendant touched her hat and held the door for him. Gretchen ducked into an alleyway and tapped her earpiece.

"He's at it again," she said.

" Third time this week," came Kendi's voice in her ear. " And it's only Wednesday. The man defines the term 'habitual.' You think you can get in there and get some more info on our friend now that we know he's a regular? "

"Can't hurt to try. Gimme a few to let him get settled in with his thing of the evening and we'll see."

Gretchen settled back to wait. The door attendant let in three more humans-one man, two women-and let out two more-both men. A huge centipede pittered up the steps and was granted admission. It re-emerged again a few minutes later. Finally Gretchen judged enough time had passed. She put on a nonchalant air, crossed the street, and sauntered up the steps. The attendant touched her cap and opened the door.

Inside, Gretchen found everything looking like a brothel should. Plush red carpet, scarlet and gold wallpaper, big marble staircase, trays of drinks hovering obsequiously about, and various beings for rent chatting up potential customers. Lighting and music were soft, conversation muted. The furniture setup made nooks and crannies for private conversation, and there was even a small dance floor. Humans and non-humans mixed freely, most with some sort of beverage at hand.

Some of the non-humans were humanoid, with exotic pelts, antennae, ears, or skin tone. Many, however, weren't even bipedal. Creatures scuttled, slithered, glided, and even oozed around the common room. One looked like a giant turtle with a couch cushion on its back. A human man reclined on the creature, drink in hand. Another non-human seemed to be a three-headed snake with amazingly muscular arms. Its tail was twined sensuously around the waist of another human male. Gretchen couldn't decide if she wanted to laugh or barf. And Jeung was nowhere in sight.

"What are you drinking?" said a smooth voice at her elbow.

Gretchen turned. A human woman was looking up at her. Short, boyishly slim figure, curling black hair long enough to sit on. Gretchen couldn't even hazard a guess as to her age.

"Uh, nothing for me, thanks," Gretchen replied.

"Your first time here?" asked the woman.

"Yes."

"I'm Lady Kellyn. This is my place." Kellyn gestured with a bony hand. "If any of the non-humans catches your fancy, please don't hesitate to ask. If you're looking for human companionship, there's a lovely place three doors down, just past the Security station."

"I'm not sure what I'm looking for," Gretchen replied truthfully.

"Then look around until you see something that intrigues. My souls are all trained in what pleasures humans, but we do have a few rules."

"Such as?" Gretchen asked, curious despite herself.

"We are fully licensed and bonded with SA Station, so all the usual Station laws apply here. In addition, we don't do pain, either giving or receiving, and we don't allow heavy drug use, including alcohol. All of my souls are the genuine article-no genegineering here-but if you get something you didn't expect, we can't issue a refund. None of my souls are slaves, so please don't treat them as such. If you want to try more than one soul at the same time, you must ask me or one of my assistants and not the souls in question, since there are occasional cultural difficulties. We are not responsible for damage to clothing. If you want to be swallowed and regurgitated, we need at least twenty-four hours' notice and you must provide your own breathing apparatus. We take payment in advance but can't accept SA chits. Hard cash is preferable, but cashcards are fine as well."

Gretchen nodded. "Understood. How long have you been in business?"

"Two hundred and thirty-six years," Kellyn said with a touch of pride. "We're the second-oldest pleasure house on SA Station, in fact."

"Impressive." Gretchen hooked a glass of sparkling something from a wandering tray and took a sip. Champagne. Fine quality, too. "This place is amazing. I'm glad I got a recommendation to visit you."

"Who recommended us?" Kellyn asked, rising to the bait. "I'll send a note."

Here Gretchen colored slightly. "Actually it wasn't as much a recommendation as a piece of accidental eavesdropping. I overheard Ken Jeung raving about your place to a friend at work."

"Ah! You work with Dr. Jeung. He's here tonight, you know."

"He is?" Gretchen darted a frightened glance about the room. The guy on the turtle had been joined by a tiger-striped woman, complete with tail. "Where?"

"He went upstairs with one of my souls a few minutes ago. Is something wrong?"

Gretchen ran her finger around the rim of her champagne glass. "It's kind of embarrassing. I sort of work more for him than with him and it would be… awkward running into my boss. I didn't think he'd come here two nights in a row. Please don't mention you saw me, would you?"

"Of course not," Kellyn soothed. "Though you wouldn't need to be embarrassed."

"Does he come here a lot?"

Kellyn gave a smile full of dazzlingly white teeth. "I'm afraid I can't gossip about the individual habits of my customers."

Gretchen nodded, though she already knew quite a bit about Jeung's habits. Ben, Lucia, and Gretchen had spent a great deal of time reading old news stories, striking up casual conversations with patrons, and once even interviewing a soul who had quit working for Kellyn to open a flower shop. The latter had been extremely talkative, especially about Dr. Ken Jeung.

"Well I can gossip," Gretchen said, still hoping to winkle a bit more information out of Lady Kellyn. "Like I said, I've overheard him talk about this place. He said you're always hiring new people-souls-and he likes to get first crack at them." She sniffed. "I had a boyfriend like that once. Never wanted to do the same thing twice."

"Perhaps you should have brought him here," Kellyn said with a smile of her own.

"Is it true that Dr. Jeung's always first in line for someone new?"

"That would be telling," Kellyn replied. "Do you see anyone you find enticing, my dear?"

A pointed change of subject. Gretchen gave an inward sigh. She had been hoping for confirmation of the information she had already gathered, but it was clear Kellyn wasn't going to give any. "Let me look," Gretchen hedged. "I'm new to all this."

"Of course, no pressure," Kellyn said. "And if you see no one who appeals, we have two new souls who will be starting soon. However, I do have to tell you that drinks and the buffet are included in the price of an hour's pleasure time. If you elect not to share pleasure time with one of my souls, I'm afraid we have to charge you for what you imbibe."

Gretchen nodded acknowledgment. Kellyn pressed her arm briefly and moved away to speak to someone else. After a decent interval, Gretchen wandered up the marble staircase. A tall woman accompanied by a hairy, bear-like creature passed Gretchen on their way down. At the top of the stairs she could go either left or right into a corridor lined with doors. She went left until she was standing directly under the small security camera positioned on the ceiling and she stayed there until the tiny camera mounted on her lapel pin had taken several holos of the empty hallway. Then she did the same thing with the other corridor and headed down the stairs again.

In the main mingling area, Gretchen hung around long enough to make it seem as if she were waffling between a soft creature that reminded her of a baby seal and a thing with a beak and wicked-looking talons, then headed for the front door, where a pudgy human in an honest-to-god tuxedo stood behind a small podium. Some sort of maitre d', Gretchen assumed, responsible for collecting money.

"You saw nothing to your liking tonight?" he asked solicitously as he presented Gretchen a bill for the champagne.

Gretchen settled the check, trying to look as if she paid half a day's stipend for a single drink all the time. "Nothing grabbed me. Lady Kellyn says you're getting two new souls soon?"

"Yes, madam. They will have finished their training by the day after tomorrow. I'll be sending out a notice to everyone on our Honor Roll once they're available."

"Really?" Gretchen put her hand on the pudgy man's podium. When she removed it, a hundred-freemark coin glittered in the soft light beside a small address chip. "I hope I'm on that Roll."

The pudgy maitre d' swept the chip and the coin into his pocket. "Of course, madam. You will be among the first to hear."

"I'd like to be the very first, even if it's only by a few minutes."

"That can certainly be arranged, madam."

Gretchen thanked the man and swept out into the false night.

"A hundred freemarks?" Kendi spluttered. "Gretchen! We have a big budget, but isn't that extravagant for a simple bribe?"

"It didn't even include the champagne," Gretchen added with a winsome smile. "Do you want to hear what I got or not?"

Kendi took a deep breath and closed his eyes to get himself under control. It was only money, and the Children had never stinted when it came to buying, begging, or stealing Silent into freedom. It was just the way Gretchen went about it, so smug and irritating.

They were in Ben and Kendi's quarters, with its half-messy living room. The faint smell of old coffee hung on the air. Behind Kendi on Ben's desk sat holographic displays of the plain corridor leading to the Collection's part of SA station. Ben and Lucia had managed to get close enough to the Collection entrance to release a pair of tiny spider cameras that had crawled up to the ceiling and planted themselves. One of them had wandered too close and shorted out, the victim of some sort of jamming device, but the other had hung back and was transmitting a clear image. At the moment, the display showed nothing but an empty corridor that ended in a door fitted with an hand-level scanner for checking prints. Dozens of people passed through that door every day, presenting an identification holo and submitting to a quick print scan before being admitted. Kendi burned to know what was on the other side of that door, but had to be content with having his team shadow the various department heads to learn more about them.

"All right," he said at last. "What did you learn?"

"The maitre d', or whoever he is, takes bribes. I didn't try it with Lady Kellyn. I didn't think it would work."

"Right, right. What else?"

"Jeung has a thing for sex with non-humans-we knew that from our other research-and he does get bored fast. Whenever they get someone new, Jeung's on her faster than a spacer on… well, you know."

Kendi tapped his fingers on the arms of the desk chair, a habit he had picked up from Ara. "Anything else?"

"You betcha. I gave the maitre d' guy a mail drop and bribed him to let me be the very first to know when a new soul is ready to start working. He said there'll be two more coming up by the day after tomorrow. I'll bet a year of your stipend-"

Kendi snorted as he usually did when Gretchen made this remark.

"— that Jeung will be there and he'll be heavily occupied for quite some time."

"In other words, we'll have a time and place of his next assignation," Kendi said. "Along with a built-in distraction."

"Astute," Gretchen said. "No wonder you were promoted to Father."

Kendi ignored this comment and thought for a long moment, then rose. "We'll have to put a twenty-four hour monitor on that mail drop. And be ready to spend the evening with a hooker. I need to go find Ben."

" The message came in, troops," Kendi said. " Go! "

Gretchen acknowledged the transmission, left a few SA company chits on the restaurant table, and hurried out the front door. The lights and sounds of FunSec swirled around her in a cacophony she had come to hate over the last day and half. Ignoring all of it as best she could, she picked her way across the street to Lady Kellyn's establishment and let the attendant get the door for her.

Because Silent Acquisitions had been originally started by humans and the station originally built with humans in mind, SA Station kept a twenty-four hour clock and work schedule. However, Silent Acquisitions itself was open twenty-four hours a "day," meaning FunSec establishments could expect customers at any time as people got off work at all hours. Lady Kellyn's was therefore busy, despite the fact that it was barely six-thirty in the evening.

Another fact Gretchen had learned in the last day and a half was that Lady Kellyn did not accept reservations from anyone but preferred-read, regular and wealthy — customers. On the surface it was an attempt to seem gentile and old-fashioned, but Gretchen suspected that too many people had called for reservations and then broken them, either because the customers chickened out or they didn't bother to inform the brothel of a change in plans. People who had to go through the trouble of making reservations in person, Gretchen imagined, rarely broke them.

Gretchen approached the maitre d', still pudgy in his tuxedo. "I just happened to be in the neighborhood when I got the news," she said breathlessly. "You have two new souls?"

"Indeed, madam." The maitre d' tapped his podium and brought up a screen. "Would you like to spend time with either of them? They begin seeing customers at seven o'clock."

"Who are they and what are they like?" she asked.

A small hologram of a greenish, cone-shaped creature with a multitude of segmented arms appeared next to an image of something that looked like a giant throw pillow with zebra stripes.

"Tour-rif-na," the maitre d' said, indicating the cone creature, "is from the planet Pell-de-ra. Her multiple arms and fingers are especially adept at giving pleasure in many forms and she secretes several specially scented oils for this purpose. Zem-" the maitre d' indicated the pillow "-is a very relaxing partner from Rivva. The fur is actually made of mobile cilia which can either massage or excite."

Behind Gretchen, Ben and Lucia came through the door, hand in hand. Lucia wore white gloves to cover her scars. Gretchen ignored them to concentrate on the holograms. She started to point to one of the images, then apparently changed her mind.

"Is… has Ken Jeung made a reservation for this evening?" she asked, setting a coin on the podium. "I don't mean to pry, but I work for him and it would be… embarrassing for me if I ran into him here. I'd prefer to arrange things so that he doesn't see me."

The coin vanished. "He hasn't called yet, madam, but I'm expecting him to do so any moment. The Honor Roll notifications went out only two minutes ago. You asked to be first."

"And I do appreciate it," Gretchen said. "He should be out of work any moment, now, and I'm sure he'll come straight here, so if I take an hour with Zem-" she pointed to the pillow "-I should be out of sight. Unless-oh, wait-are their rooms close together? Where we might run into each other?"

The maitre d' began to look a little annoyed, so Gretchen put another coin on the podium. "Their rooms are right across the hall from each other, madam. But don't worry-each room is equipped with a spyhole so you can check the corridor to see if it's empty before you leave."

"Thank you so much," Gretchen said.

"I've logged you in to spend an hour with Zem in the Palace room beginning at seven o'clock. Go to the top of the stairs, turn right, and go all the way to the end of the corridor. Zem herself will not be spending time down here-she isn't as mobile as our other souls-but she will be ready for you. Meanwhile, you can enjoy the bar and buffet." The maitre d's podium chimed for his attention and he tapped it. "Greetings, Lady Kellyn's. Ah, hello, Dr. Jeung. So good to hear from you. Yes, we do have a reservation open."

Gretchen mouthed "thank you" at the maitre d', who nodded to her. Then she wandered away. Ben and Lucia were sitting on a couch talking with a hairless, red-spotted humanoid. A bit of searching turned up Tour-rif-na, the green, cone-shaped female Jeung had doubtless made a reservation for. She was massaging the shoulders of a startlingly handsome young man with black hair and liquid brown eyes.

Gretchen tapped her earpiece with a sigh. "Myra, open channel to everyone. Listen up, gang-I think we're set. I've got one of the newbies reserved for seven o'clock, and I'd bet two months of Kendi's stipend-"

" That's Father Kendi to you, if you're going to bet my money, " Kendi interjected.

"— that Jeung will reserve the other for the same time. Her name is Tour-rif-na, and her room is across from the Palace Room, though at the moment she's down here socializing. To get to her room, go upstairs, make a right, and go all the way down to the end. Everyone got it?"

A multitude of voices from her earpiece indicated that everyone did.

" Ben, you should get into place as soon as you can," Kendi said. " If Tour-rif-na is downstairs, it means her room is empty."

" On it," Ben said.

Across the room, Ben and Lucia both got up and headed for the main marble staircase. A caged lift nearby accommodated patrons and souls who couldn't deal with stairs, but it was empty at the moment. Other customers went up and down the steps fairly regularly, so Ben and Lucia didn't attract any attention. Gretchen snagged a wine glass from a hovering tray and wandered over toward Tour-rif-na, who was still working on the beautiful young man. Tour-rif-na, apparently, couldn't sit down on chairs designed for a human, so she was standing behind him while he perched on the back of a sofa. Her long, long fingers worked gracefully at his shoulders and neck. His eyes were closed in blissful happiness. As Gretchen got closer, she was hit with a powerful scent that reminded her not unpleasantly of earth and grass. The soul had three tiny eyes spaced evenly around the top of her head.

"Are you Tour-rif-na?" Gretchen asked.

"I am," she said. Her voice was almost as deep a human man's, and Gretchen wondered if that was her normal voice or what the translator in her earpiece had settled on. The young man's eyes popped open and he glared at Gretchen.

"This won't take but a second," Gretchen told him. "I was wondering if Tour-rif-na here could do me a favor."

"A favor," Tour-rif-na said, fingers still working. Two of her other hands stole toward Gretchen's shoulders. Gretchen thought about pushing them away, then decided not to. Tour-rif-na's touch was pleasant, and the gentle pressure of just a moment's massage unknotted several muscles. Gretchen hadn't realized she was that tense. She pressed a coin into one of Tour-rif-na's hands, hoping she came from a culture that understood tips and bribes. It was a pretty good bet that she did-anyone working in a brothel for humans would have to. The young man closed his eyes again.

"I was wondering if you could help me win a bet," Gretchen said in a low voice that the man wouldn't be able to hear.

"What is a bet?"

"A sort of game in which the loser has to pay the winner a forfeit."

"I see," Tour-rif-na said. "And what is this bet?"

"It's very simple," Gretchen said, resisting the temptation to close her own eyes under Tour-rif-na's delicious fingers. "And very small. Let me explain."

A while later, Gretchen sauntered up the marble staircase toward the Palace Room. At the last moment she looked over her shoulder and saw Ken Jeung hurry in the front door. He spoke briefly with the maitre d', and then Lady Kellyn breezed over to greet him as well. She took his hand and led him over to where Tour-rif-na was holding court by massaging three people at once. Good. The tricky part of the evening was over for her.

Gretchen quickly trotted up the stairs and came across Ben and Lucia standing together on the landing. What were they doing out here? She almost paused to ask them, then stopped herself. She wasn't supposed to know them. Instead she made herself sail past them and down the hallway. The last door on the left sported a gold plaque that said "Palace Room." Directly across from it was another door with a plaque proclaiming it the Garden Room. Gretchen opened the Palace Room door and saw a large room with pillars that arched up to a high ceiling. Thick carpets lay on the floor, and a fireplace with holographic fire graced one wall. In front of the fireplace was a zebra-striped floor pillow big enough for two humans to lay on. Half wondering if she were the victim of some elaborate prank, Gretchen said, "Hello?"

The pillow sat up. "I can sense your presence," said a musical voice. "My name is Zem. Please enter and be welcome."

Gretchen edged closer to the creature, a little nervous now. The only reason she had made the reservation with Zem was to ensure Jeung chose Tour-rif-na. What Gretchen actually did with Zem was now immaterial, and she still had one more small job to do.

"Look," she said, "I'm not really here because I want sex."

"I knew that when you entered my room," Zem said. There were no signs of eyes or a mouth, and Gretchen couldn't figure out where the voice was coming from. Zem's fur-cilia-stirred. They were long and silky-looking, with an arresting black-and-white pattern. "You do not smell like someone who is interested in that sort of pleasure. But you do smell lonely. Let me soothe you."

Gretchen almost left, but something held her. Tentatively, like a bird ready to take flight, she sat on the floor next to Zem. Well, why shouldn't she take advantage? Her final task wasn't something she could do until Jeung was done with Tour-rif-na, and that was an hour away.

"Sit on me," Zem said. "Rest on me. That is why I am here."

Again without knowing why but no longer feeling self-conscious, Gretchen crawled over Zem's body until she was in the center. Zem was soft like a gel mattress and she noticed that the individual cilia moved on their own. Zem slowly folded over her until she felt engulfed in a warm body hug. For the first time since the Despair, Gretchen felt like she had reached a haven, a safe place. The lonely ache left by the Dream's absence receded.

As if reading her mood, Zem said softly, "You are safe with me, safe and warm. Just relax. Just be."

Gretchen closed her eyes and obeyed.

Ben kissed Lucia at the top of the stairs, casting one eye up the hallway as he did so. Gretchen had come by a moment ago, no doubt wondering why they were still here. In fact, they had been here for several minutes waiting for the transceiver to do its job, and that hadn't happened yet. So Ben and Lucia had continued pretending to make out. It felt decidedly strange, like he was kissing his sister or cousin. Ben had dated women, but not often; he had only rarely felt any attraction. Ultimately he had figured he was just a natural loner. Then Kendi had burst into his life like a fox exploding into a flock of pigeons and he had learned to soar.

"This is weird," Lucia muttered against his lips. "Done yet?"

Ben touched the transceiver in his pocket. "Not yet. Think it's still breaking into the camera system. Shouldn't be much-" The transceiver vibrated once, then lay still. "Got it," Ben said, and they parted. A graceful-looking divan sat nearby, and they sank into it. Lucia oozed onto Ben's lap and positioned herself so that her legs hid Ben's right hand from the cameras. She was heavy and soft, completely unlike Kendi's whipcord build. Lucia leaned over to pretend she was nibbling on Ben's ear while Ben operated the transceiver in his pocket by touch.

The security system at Lady Kellyn's establishment was far from elaborate. It mostly consisted of a series of cameras hooked to a dedicated computer that sounded the alarm if it saw a violent act or anyone it didn't recognize went into the wrong place. One person oversaw the entire system and almost never watched the camera monitors directly. There were also anywhere from six to a dozen security personnel on the premises, but they spent most of their time on the first floor. Every soul was also equipped with an alarm button or similar way to call for help if needed. The tightest security revolved around the cashbox. The worst problem Lady Kellyn and her assistants usually had to deal with was a drunken patron, and she didn't hesitate to call SA Security if things got sticky. All this Ben and the others had learned from their previous research. The soul-turned-flower-seller had been the most helpful, especially after Ben had paid enough to cover a month's lease on her shop.

Because Lady Kellyn rarely had problems with security, there were no cameras in the individual pleasure rooms, and the cameras in the hallway were hooked to a wireless system. This made Ben's life much easier, since he could break into the transmission system instead of having to access the camera directly. His transceiver carried in it a photo of an empty hallway taken by Gretchen on her initial visit to the place. All Ben had to do was get it close enough to the camera for his special program to break into the camera's transmitter and upload the image of an empty corridor. The quick vibration indicated that the transceiver had isolated the camera's security frequency. Ben put his hand in his pocket to re-activate the transceiver and upload the picture. His practiced fingers easily found the correct buttons. He was just about to start the upload when a weight settled on the divan and a low, throaty voice said, "Now what are the two of you doing up here all by yourselves?"

Heart suddenly pounding, Ben leaned around Lucia and saw a woman with leopard-like fur and wide, cat-green eyes. She ran a graceful hand down Ben's back, and he shivered despite himself.

"My name is Carrillen," the woman said. "I've been watching the two of you all evening and you've barely said two words to anyone but each other. Now I find you up here necking. Most humans come here for something more exotic than each other." She licked the back of her hand suggestively with a long tongue.

Lucia slid off Ben's lap. "We were just… trying to decide what we wanted to do and got distracted. Mike here is so hot, I just can't keep my hands off him."

"Isn't he just?" Carrillen slid behind both Ben and Lucia on the divan and leaned over them to run her hands down their chests. Her whiskers tickled Ben's cheek. "Maybe I can help you decide what you want to do. We can all three slip into my room and explore the possibilities. How does that sound?"

Her hands moved lower. Ben's mouth was dry and his mind raced. They had to find a way to get rid of Carrillen without arousing her suspicions, and they had to do it before Ken Jeung came up those stairs with Tour-rif-na in ten minutes.

Carrillen licked Lucia's ear once with her tongue, then Ben's. It was a raspy but strangely sensual feeling. Ben quickly took advantage of the gesture. He shuddered hard once, then gently pushed Carrillen away.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said to Lucia. "I know you wanted this, and I'm really trying, but I'm just not sure again."

"You promised," Lucia said, picking up the cue. "Mikey, we talked about it all week and you promised for my birthday we'd try it. And Carrillen here would be perfect." Lucia put out a finger and stroked one of Carrillen's ears. She closed her eyes in feline satisfaction.

"I know, I know." Ben looked miserably down at his hands. "I want to, and then I don't want to. It's Dad all over again."

Lucia made an exasperated sound. "Every time I think we're getting somewhere, you bring him up again. Dad, Dad, Dad. What is it with you? Did we flush all that therapy money down the toilet?"

"Hey," Ben flared, "I'm a lot better than I used to be. We don't sleep with the lights on anymore, right?"

"Why don't I just slip downstairs and get a drink while the two of you work this out?" Carrillen said abruptly. She gave each of their ears one more lick. "Save something for me." And then she was gone.

The moment she was out of earshot, Lucia said, "Dad? I don't even want to know."

"It worked." Ben got up and checked the hallway. Empty. Music and party sounds continued to filter up from the area below. Ben put his hand in his pocket and activated the transceiver. "There. In fifteen seconds that camera will show an empty hallway for five minutes. Let's get out of camera range so we don't seem to just disappear."

They strolled to the staircase as Ben quietly counted off the time. He had just reached fifteen when Lucia grabbed his elbow with a sharp hiss.

"He's coming early," she said.

Sure enough, Ken Jeung was heading for the stairs with Tour-rif-na. Several of her arms were around him.

As one, Ben and Lucia turned and strode quickly down the corridor. The moment they left line-of-sight of the party below, they broke into a run. Lucia reached the door across from the Palace Room, a set of picklocks already in hand. Ben resisted the impulse to tell her to hurry. It would take less than a minute for Jeung to reach the top of the stairs and then maybe another ten seconds to reach the end of the hallway. Lucia swore, then yanked off her right glove and went back to work.

"Come on, come on," she muttered. Her tiny computer stylus made a buzzing sound.

Ben thought he caught the sound of a man's laughter from the stairs. He was tensing to do something-anything-when Lucia said, "Got it!"

Without hesitation Ben dove into the room beyond, shut the door, and locked it. Lucia, he knew, would simply stroll down the hallway past Jeung and Tour-rif-na as if she had just left one of the other rooms. He hoped she remembered to grab her glove.

Ben glanced around, looking for a hiding place, and saw that the Garden Room lived up to its name. Potted shrubs, plants, and even trees were everywhere. An enormous whirlpool bath took up one corner, and an ivy-twined bed occupied another. The place was a melange of spicy smells. One door led to a room with strange plumbing facilities, and Ben assumed that was Tour-rif-na's bathroom. Another door opened into a walk-in closet filled with a variety of outfits, all for humans. There were even half a dozen human space suits. This confused Ben for a moment-did he have the wrong room? — until he remembered that Tour-rif-na didn't seem to wear clothing. These must be costumes for clients who desired them. This made the closet a bad place to hide-Jeung might decide to play spaceman.

Heart still thudding in his chest, Ben checked the bed. Plenty of space underneath. He rolled under it just as the door began to open. Forcing himself to breathe quietly, Ben watched Jeung's and Tour-rif-na's feet-she had three stumpy ones-move into the room. They were talking in low voices.

"But you tremble so," Tour-rif-na said. "I have never had someone so eager. We have an entire hour. We can enjoy ourselves."

Ben grimaced. Thank heavens the floor under the bed was carpeted and free of dust. If he had to spend an hour down here, at least he wouldn't get sore from a wooden floor or have to suppress a sneeze every few seconds. Now he only had to hope the new copycat would work. He didn't feel the same confidence he had shown Kendi. There had been no way to field-test the thing, and it was a rare event for anything electronic to hit the ground running. There were always bugs. Ben had spent hours going over the thing, looking for potential problems, but it was impossible to know for certain if it would work or not until he actually tried it.

Jeung spoke again, his voice too low and husky for Ben to catch the words, and a shirt dropped to the floor. Jeung's feet kicked their shoes off and he stepped out of his trousers. A few moments later, Ben presumed he was naked.

"What is this around your neck, my fine one?" Tour-rif-na said.

"I can't take that off," Jeung said.

"But I am afraid. What metal is the chain?"

"Silver."

Tour-rif-na made a small hissing noise. "The oils I secrete for pleasure react badly to that metal. Together, oil and silver will permanently discolor your skin and mine. If you cannot remove it, perhaps we should find another soul who-"

"No," Jeung replied quickly. "The door is locked, isn't it?"

"Indeed."

"Then it should be all right." With a slight clink, both silver chain and small, cylindrical key dropped onto the pile of clothing mere centimeters from Ben's right hand. Ben let out a noiseless sigh. Gretchen had done a good job persuading Tour-rif-na to play her part in their "bet." He prayed the copycat would let him do his.

"You wish to use the bath?" Tour-rif-na said.

Ben waited until he heard splashing and quiet moans from the direction of the whirlpool before snaking a hand out and grabbing Jeung's key. He eased the copycat out of his pocket and touched its data port to the key.

Nothing happened.

More splashing, and Jeung let out a harsh gasp. "What did you do?"

"Do you wish that I do it again?"

Ben clamped his lips together and pressed the key to the data port again. Still nothing. A crick started in his neck from holding his head off the floor. God, what had he overlooked? Whatever it was, he had to find a way to fix it under the bed without being noticed by Jeung. Ben set the key down- — and realized he was trying to download the codes into the transceiver instead of the copycat. In the dim light under the bed he had gotten them mixed up. Cursing himself, he drew the copycat from his pocket. With stopped breath, he tried again.

Red lights flicked on the copycat, then flashed green. Download complete. Ben heaved a noiseless sigh of relief that went all the way down to the soles of his feet. He listened a moment to ensure the splashing in the tub was continuing apace before setting the key back on the pile of Jeung's clothing. Strange smells wafted toward him, and he figured they must be the oils Tour-rif-na secreted. Ben settled back under the bed to wait him out, trying to keep pictures of Jeung and Tour-rif-na out of his head.

A soft chime sounded, and Gretchen woke slowly and languidly. Every muscle in her body felt completely relaxed, as if she had just had a good workout followed by a hot soak and a thorough massage. Zem was still wrapped gently around her in a soft cocoon of safety. Gretchen closed her eyes, supposing she should feel guilty but refusing to do so. After everything she had been through in the last six months, she deserved an hour of sensual delight and relaxation. Then the cocoon abruptly vanished as Zem unfolded.

"Apologies," Zem said. "but your time is nearly over."

Gretchen bolted upright, suddenly remembering she wasn't quite done with the evening. "What time is it?"

"Ten minutes before eight o'clock," Zem replied.

Gretchen scrambled to her feet. "I'm really thirsty. Is there-?"

"There is a bar near the door. Help yourself to whatever you like. Did I do something to upset you?"

"No, not at all," Gretchen said. She grabbed a small glass from the bar, wiped it with a napkin, and half-filled the glass with sparkling water, careful to hold the glass at the bottom. "Zem, that was wonderful. Perhaps I'll… come back."

"I will be here for the foreseeable future," Zem replied, "and please let Lady Kellyn know you enjoyed yourself."

"I will," Gretchen said, suddenly shy. "I will."

She let herself out of Zem's room. The corridor was empty. Gretchen stood there a moment, as if lost in thought but actually trying to hear sounds from the Garden Room where Jeung had gone with Tour-rif-na. Nothing. The doors were probably sound-proofed. Gretchen stood there as long as she dared-Ben's fake photo would have long since vanished from the security system, and loitering on camera might arouse suspicion. Finally Gretchen walked slowly away, still holding the glass. She had only gone a few steps across the plush hall carpet when the Garden Room door opened and Ken Jeung emerged with Tour-rif-na. Gretchen ignored them as she continued up the hallway, though she knew they were coming behind her. She could smell Tour-rif-na's earthy scent. When Gretchen reached the landing to the marble staircase, she made a tiny gasp of annoyance and bent awkwardly. Jeung and Tour-rif-na caught up with her.

"Hey, could you hold this a second?" Gretchen said to Jeung, and thrust her glass into his hand. Jeung took it reflexively and Gretchen pretended to adjust her shoe. Then she thanked him and took the glass back, again careful to hold it by the bottom. Jeung nodded, said good-bye to Tour-rif-na, and trotted down the staircase. Out of the corner of her eye, Gretchen saw Ben emerge from the Garden Room. This was actually the riskiest part of the game. It was possible the computer or the person in charge of the security cameras would notice that Jeung had not gone into the Garden Room with a friend. Ben moved quickly but not hurriedly down the hall. Tour-rif-na turned to Gretchen.

"He removed the chain," she said as Ben passed behind her and down the stairs. "I believe that means you will win the bet."

"It does," Gretchen said, "but only if I can trick him into doing two more things. So if you see him again, don't mention the chain to him." Gretchen gave her a fifty-freemark coin.

"I will not," Tour-rif-na said. "But I hope you will let me know the outcome. I am very curious about this part of human culture."

Gretchen laughed. "I'll definitely keep you posted."

Tour-rif-na said she had to ready herself for another client and went back to her room. Gretchen looked down at the party below just in time to see Ben exit with Lucia on his arm. That was everyone. Gretchen wrapped the little glass in the napkin, slipped it into her pocket, and headed for the door. Just before departing, she stopped at the pudgy maitre d's podium.

"I had a fine time with Zem," she said. "Worth every freemark and more."

"I will tell Lady Kellyn," he said. "And we hope to see you again, madam."

Gretchen exited the brothel into the swirling noise of FunSec and caught up with Ben and Lucia a few blocks later. She gave Lucia the glass.

"There should be a good thumbprint on it," she said. "The security in that place is a joke. Ben walked right out of Tour-rif-na's room and security never even noticed."

"They aren't expecting major trouble, especially in the pleasure rooms," Ben said with a shrug. "Why spend the money for high-power security when you don't need it?"

"So how'd you like being under Jeung's bed?" Gretchen asked. "Get any jollies?"

Ben flushed. "Hardly. And they spent the whole time in the hot tub."

"How was your hour, Gretchen?" Lucia asked sweetly.

"Fine." Gretchen's tone was short.

"Just fine?" Lucia pressed. "No jollies of your own?"

"I said it was fine. Leave it, all right?"

"We should let Kendi know we got the key and the print," Ben interjected diplomatically. "That's where the real jollies are."

"One jolly down," Gretchen agreed, "three jollies to go."

The main door slid open, and Martina leaped to her feet. Delta Maura entered the room, her face wreathed in smiles.

"Greet the Dream, Alpha," she said. Her dark green robe and wimple rustled as she moved, and Martina noticed the white keycard hanging from her belt. "I have fine news for you!"

"What time is it?" Martina asked. A while after she had finished sketching, she had felt tired and had gone to bed. When she woke up, a meal of ham steak, one tiny baked potato, unsweetened tea, and a salad had been waiting for her in the dumbwaiter. How long had she been asleep? A few hours? All night? She couldn't tell. The holographic window was no help-it showed the same sun-drenched valley. There had to be a time display somewhere on the computer, but it had either been disabled or hidden so carefully that Martina, who was no hacker, couldn't find it.

"Measuring time is a human concern, Alpha," Maura said in a slight admonishment. "The Dream is eternal, and your dependence on breaking time down into hours and minutes is one of the impurities that Vik stained us with. The Chosen need to rise above that to become one of the Enlightened, as Irfan Qasad did."

"Are you one of the Enlightened, then?"

A serene smile. "Not yet. I'm only a Delta. But I have enough experience now to begin counseling Alphas like yourself. Enough of that, then-I said I have news for you."

"What would that be?" Martina was a slave, and knew she was supposed to show proper respect to someone who was either her owner or someone who was higher up in the hierarchy, but Delta Maura had said there were no owners here, and Martina allowed a certain amount of sarcasm creep into her voice.

"Dreamer Roon has consented to address you and the other Alphas." Delta Maura clasped her gloved hands in excitement. "Isn't that wonderful news?"

"I suppose," Martina replied uncertainly.

"You suppose?" Delta Maura said in obvious shock. "Dreamer Roon himself, the first Enlightened one to touch the Dream since Irfan Qasad, and you only suppose it's wonderful?"

Martina decided on the spot it would be best to play along. Slaves survived best by blending in, and, Delta Maura's words notwithstanding, Martina still wore shackles.

"Oh, it's wonderful news," she said, putting an awed look on her face. "I was just… startled that he would do such thing. Talk to us Alphas, I mean. He wrote that very interesting book about the history of the Dream, didn't he?"

"You read it, then?"

"Part of it," Martina said. "He certainly has some fascinating theories."

"Fact, not theories," Maura chided gently. "Dreamer Roon doesn't need to postulate. He knows."

"Of course. Please forgive me. I'm still learning."

Delta Maura smiled her serene smile. "And we will teach you. Now into the tub. You must cleanse yourself before being admitted to the Dreamer's presence."

After a long bath-Delta Maura stood by to ensure Martina scrubbed every inch of skin-Delta Maura dressed her in a hooded yellow tunic, loose trousers, gloves, and sandals. Martina's head was spinning with questions. Who had taken her away from DrimCom? If she wasn't supposed to be a slave, why couldn't she walk away free? What was the difference between an Alpha and a Delta? What did Enlightened mean in this place? Why did everyone wear gloves? But she kept her mouth shut. A lifetime of enslavement had taught her that, Silent or not, slaves were sometimes only given enough information to do their jobs, and asking too many questions could result in an angry owner who inflicted pain. Best to wait and see what she could learn by keeping eyes and ears open.

Once Martina was dressed, Delta Maura opened the door with her keycard. She hustled Martina out of the room and into a red-carpeted corridor faced with several other doors.

"Put up your hood and keep your eyes on the floor," Delta Maura instructed, "so that you don't meet the Dreamer's gaze by accident. Your impurity would taint his cleanliness."

Martina did as instructed, though it meant keeping a hand on Delta Maura's arm. The unfamiliar gloves still felt strange, muffling. Soft clothing and low voices rustled around her, and Martina became aware that she was part of a procession of people making their way down the corridor. She tried to sneak looks at her surroundings, but the hood allowed only a limited range of vision. All she could see was a circle of floor. The space around her widened enough to echo, then closed in again. The floor alternated between carpet, tile, and metal. Eventually, Delta Maura guided Martina into a kneeling position on a thin floor mat. She knelt, settling her loose clothes around her, and heard more rustlings as Delta Maura and the others apparently did the same. All Martina saw was the yellow fabric of her own trousers. The faint smell of incense hung in the air. Martina listened carefully. The noises around her were subdued, but she got the sense that between forty and fifty people occupied the room. Were they all Alphas paired with a Delta? Martina didn't know, but figured it was a good guess, which meant that there were probably twenty-odd Alphas in the group. All stolen from their owners? Or were any of them here voluntarily? The questions kept piling up.

Martina supposed she should be frightened or frustrated, but she had been sold four times now, and in many ways this was just another change in ownership. Eventually someone would tell her what was going on and she would be given work to do. Delta Maura, despite her strangeness, had so far been unfailingly polite and kind, if uninformative, the food was plentiful, her quarters luxurious. It was proving a pretty good position so far.

After a while, a hush settled over the room and Martina heard footsteps approaching. A voice from somewhere in front of her said, "Welcome, Alphas, and greet the Dream! I am Dreamer Edsard Roon, and I am here to help you find your Enlightenment!"

His voice was rich and powerful. Martina was itching to look up and see what he looked like, but she had been ordered to keep her eyes down.

"You have been rescued from your oppressors, the ones who corrupted and tainted you, the ones who prevent you from achieving true Enlightenment in the Dream. I know you are confused and uncertain, but everything will be explained in time. This is a place of love and trust, and you have nothing to fear here. Irfan has guided you here, and we shall guide you to Enlightenment."

He continued on for quite some time about how special they all were, all Chosen by Irfan Qasad, all above mere humanity. Martina supposed that meant everyone here was human-no aliens. Another scrap of information for the mix.

"We will instruct you in the Laws of Atash," Roon continued. "The first-that the Chosen must remove themselves from impure human society-was fulfilled when we brought you here. The second-that you must dedicate yourselves to purity of thought and deed-you will hear about later today. A demonstration of the third law will occur during this instruction, when you will learn the value of confessing your impurities to the Enlightened. To fulfill the fourth law, you must obey the Enlightened and all those designated as your superiors. They have been there ahead of you and know the way. Trust them. They know what they are doing and will help you join them one day."

He droned on, and Martina found herself only half-listening. She needed to go to the bathroom and she felt hungry, despite the fact that she had just eaten. She wanted something starchy and sweet-cookies or perhaps cake. Her knees began to ache from kneeling on the thin mat, but when she started to shift position and sit down, a firm hand landed on her arm in a clear warning to remain still.

"Only Irfan Qasad escaped the foul taint of Daniel Vik," Roon was saying, "but that taint can be erased, and you will learn to enter the Dream freely, without use of drugs or trances, as Irfan did, and as I have learned to do."

That caught Martina's attention. Her ability to enter the Dream was enough to make her valuable, but she wasn't a high-class power. It usually took her an hour or more of self-induced trancing and a heavy dose of her drug cocktail to enter the Dream, and after the Despair there had been days when she couldn't enter it at all. She had heard that there were techniques the Silent could learn that would allow them to enter the Dream without drugs and with minimal trancing, but she had never met anyone who could do it.

Unfortunately, Roon didn't explain further. "You will come to see that this place is your birthright, that you belong here among those who love you and will take care of your every need. Go with the Dream, Alphas, and good day."

Martina wondered if she should applaud. The room, however, remained silent, and she didn't move. Her knees were in active pain now. Footsteps moved away from the front of the chamber, and after a moment, a collective sigh went through the audience. Martina took that as a sign that she could move, and she shifted into a sitting position. No one stopped her. The relief was heavenly, though her bladder ached.

"You may remove your hood now, Alpha," Delta Maura said beside her. "Dreamer Roon has left the room."

Martina pushed her hood back and blinked at the room. It was a large, rounded chamber set up like a small stadium, with tiered platforms leading down to a raised stage, the place where Roon had presumably been standing. Martina was sitting on the third tier, which put her at a level with the stage. The tiers were filled with, as she had surmised, about three dozen people. Half were dressed in yellow tunics like Martina's-Alphas-and half were dressed in dark green robes like Maura's-Deltas. The robed women wore wimples and the men wore hoods. Everyone wore gloves. Martina didn't see any non-humans, and low voices echoed softly as people talked among themselves.

An Alpha on the tier just above and behind Maura's pushed back his hood and a spasm gripped Martina's heart. The Alpha had dark skin and tightly curled black hair and a face etched with depression and sorrow, but his eyes-his eyes were a bright, startling blue. Martina stared. The Alpha stretched, and the green-robed man next to him murmured something in his ear.

Martina's heart pounded. It couldn't be. Could it? No one but her brother had eyes like that, and even though she hadn't seen them in fifteen years, Martina recognized them with utter certainty. She was about to call out when a hand grabbed her arm.

"Wasn't that wonderful?" Delta Maura said. "He's such an inspiration."

"Delta Maura, who is that?" Martina asked, pointing at the Alpha. He hadn't looked her way. "May I speak to him?"

Delta Maura shook her head. "Earning a name is part of becoming a Gamma, so you would call him 'Alpha.' The name he came here with is meaningless, as is yours. There is not time to speak just now-you're scheduled for confessional purification. We can't have those N-waves interfering with your personal growth, dear."

Martina considered dashing over to him, Delta Maura or no, but a lifetime of conditioned obedience interfered. An order was to be obeyed. Reluctantly, Martina got to her feet. Then she put a fist to her mouth and coughed loudly. Several people, including the Alpha, looked her way. Martina looked straight at him.

The Alpha's blue eyes widened in disbelief. Martina? he mouthed. Martina gave a tiny nod in return as tears filled her own eyes. He was her brother. After fifteen years, a part of her family was being returned to her.

"Do you need some water, dear?" Delta Maura asked at her elbow.

"No, thank you," Martina said, barely keeping her tone even.

"Then it's time to go."

As Delta Maura firmly led Martina out of the audience chamber, Martina silently decided that this place was looking better and better. She was sure once she explained what was going on that she would be allowed to speak with him. Dreamer Roon had said this was a place of love, and that meant they had to let her see her brother. They had to.

Didn't they?