Trickster. Part 12

"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 pa.s.sed 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 s.e.x 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 s.p.a.cer 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 a.s.signation," 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 regular and wealthy--customers. On the surface it was an attempt to seem gentile and old-fas.h.i.+oned, 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 mult.i.tude 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 ma.s.sage 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 . . . embarra.s.sing 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, h.e.l.lo, 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 ma.s.saging 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 mult.i.tude 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 gla.s.s 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. .h.i.t with a powerful scent that reminded her not unpleasantly of earth and gra.s.s. The soul had three tiny eyes s.p.a.ced 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 pus.h.i.+ng them away, then decided not to. Tour-rif-na's touch was pleasant, and the gentle pressure of just a moment's ma.s.sage 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 ma.s.saging 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, "h.e.l.lo?"

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 s.e.x."

"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 b.u.t.ton or similar way to call for help if needed. The tightest security revolved around the cashbox. The worst problem Lady Kellyn and her a.s.sistants 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 b.u.t.tons. 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 s.h.i.+vered 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 a.s.sumed 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 s.p.a.ce 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 s.p.a.ceman.

Heart still thudding in his chest, Ben checked the bed. Plenty of s.p.a.ce 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 s.h.i.+rt 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.