Grand Cross

by Merethe Walther

  “Damn it,” Riordan said, eyeing the robot and the burly guards around the room. He turned to Aralyn. “Watch me for a minute.” Riordan tried to keep out of sight as he scooted himself over the bar and snuck over to the droid, opening up its back panel and revealing a board of wires and electronics and a small keypad and touchscreen. He pressed the screen, but nothing happened.

  “Rio, hurry up before someone sees,” Aralyn hissed. “This is not the low profile we were going for.”

  “I need to do a hard reset,” Riordan said, pointing to a round slot smaller than a cable tip. “You have like an earring or something small and cylindrical? These things are impossible to get to.”

  No, Aralyn realized, she wasn’t wearing any jewelry. Instead, she scanned the bar and grabbed a small drink straw and tossed it to Riordan. He glared at her as it missed him entirely and fluttered to the floor by his boots but bent down to pick it up without another word. After a few quiet curses trying to fit the straw in, and waiting for the screen to light back up, Riordan pressed the touchscreen, keying in a code Aralyn couldn’t see. The bartender’s metal shoulders slumped and the bottle fell out of his grasp and rolled along the floor.

  Riordan calmly picked up the alcohol, climbed back over the bar, and grabbed himself a glass. With an irritated look at Aralyn, he grabbed another glass for her and poured them each a hefty shot.

  The bartender made an electronic whirring noise and then snapped back to attention before he returned to standing in front of them. “What can I get for you?” he asked, all stammers gone.

  Aralyn waved him away. “What did you do to him?” she asked once he left for the other side of the bar. “He’s working perfectly now.”

  “His cache was full. I’ve seen these old school drones before in some rundown stations. They’re specifically supposed to store details about customers so they don’t forget faces and drink orders, but the cache has to be cleared every three months or so, dependent on how many visitors show up. From what I could see, his internal memory banks hadn’t been emptied in probably a couple years. It’s amazing that thing was running at all. This portion of the club doesn’t seem like top priority, so I guess they just put up with a twitchy bartender.”

  “Yeah, this is the warm up area, I think.” Aralyn shifted her gaze to the goon by the double doors. When he made a kissing motion at her, she turned back to the bar and picked up her shot glass of whatever Feni was. She sniffed it, dubious, and watched Riordan slosh it back. “What is this anyway?” she asked, taking a tentative sip. Her eyes watered and she blew out a harsh breath. “What is this?”

  “Feni. Cashew wine. My grandpa used to drink this stuff when I was younger. I’m surprised they had it here.”

  Aralyn tried another sip once her face had cooled down. “That’s really strong.”

  “Eh, it’s only like fifteen percent. The homemade stuff I had was way higher than that. You’re just used to weak alcohol.” Riordan readjusted his glasses and poured himself another shot. “I’m impressed. This is the real stuff.” He slugged the wine back like a shot and leaned against the bar top, staring contemplatively into the bottom of his glass. The remaining liquid inside reverberated with the thrumming bass. “Do you ever think this is worth it?” he asked.

  Aralyn had an idea of what he meant, because of course the same frustrated question had been constantly plaguing her. Sure, her identity was gone, and the others were wanted, but if they’d stayed hidden somewhere on a dwarf planet or even a comet where people didn’t ask questions, maybe they could’ve just eeked out a life somewhere. “Do I think what’s worth it?” she asked. “Working with Taav?”

  Riordan shrugged, one shoulder coming up and then deflating. “Is it just worth it to keep on, even though we could just hide out somewhere and wait for Eladia and Proctor to forget about us?” He sighed, mournful. “Why do we have to constantly serve other people and put our lives on the line? This latest bullshit with Taav… I mean, we’re working for them now. We’re working for spooks. Each one of us was some kind of anti-establishment before, and now…” He gestured to the crook of his arm where the tracer sat just underneath his skin.

  Aralyn understood what he meant. They were working for the very people who were bankrolling the orachal trade, either accidentally or otherwise. The UDA was just as duplicitous as any slavery ring that existed in the galaxy, if not more so. They governed themselves, had their own spook squad, and made people disappear like they’d never existed. Proctor had been able to steal actual inmates from prisons for over a decade to add to the trade, and because of his connections to the UDA, very few people were even aware of what a scumbag he really was. The UDA could claim to be the good guys, but everything they were involved in said otherwise.

  They even superseded planetary cops since they were under the IA’s jurisdiction and Spectors outranked them.

  No words immediately came to mind, so Aralyn took another quick nip of the drink, blinked away the sharp heat when it rose to her face, and shrugged. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Rio,” she said. “Caden’s got skin in the game, and so do I. Even Kita does. And you don’t. I think it’s normal to wonder if you could walk away―”

  “Forget it,” Riordan said, pouring a large glass of Feni. “I’ve got my reasons. You don’t need to worry about me.”

  His eyes lingered just a moment too long on Kita, dancing out over the lit tiles, her jester’s mask lights moving rhythmically in time to her movements. Other men came sidling up on both sides of her, and Kita was either oblivious to their advances or really good at pretending she didn’t understand what they wanted and scooting away.

  “Ah,” was all Aralyn said. She finished her drink and shoved the glass away from her. “You said this stuff is wine?”

  Riordan contemplated her for a moment, like he had something else to add, but a man dressed in a tight-fitting gray suit wearing a mask that made his eyes look like exploding stars came to step between them and clasped them both by the shoulders.

  “You must be my virgins!” he announced, revealing a row of perfectly manicured teeth below the pixelated star explosions.

  Riordan nearly choked on his wine as Aralyn said, “Excuse me?”

  “You’ve never been to Redux before, right?” the starry-eyed man clarified. “I was told there was a group of four that came in a little while ago, and I wanted to get you guys started on all the fun!”

  “Oh,” Aralyn said. “Yeah… First time here. …Started on what, exactly?”

  “The tour, of course!” the man exclaimed, taking his right hand from her shoulder and shoving it between them for a handshake. Aralyn shook it briefly and then Riordan did as well, though he was far more hesitant. “I’m Herris, and I’ll be taking you on an unforgettable adventure tonight.”

  Aralyn sized him up. Could this be their contact? He didn’t match the description to the letter… He was tall, but probably didn’t quite reach six feet. Slim, but with a bit of pudge around his cheeks and middle, and while he was a brunette, the shade was more caramel than she’d think would stand for “dark haired.” Meeting them hours early might not have phased him, so maybe he wanted to talk now, instead of when they were supposed to meet.

  “What adventure? What tour?” Riordan demanded, and then glared at Herris. “And your mask… it’s really distracting.”

  “It is, I know,” Herris said, still smiling his too-white smile. “But they make me wear it”―he broke into sardonic laughter before continuing―“and as for the tour, there are certain rules and restrictions here in Redux, and first-timers always get the low-down so they know which places they need to be and which places are a big no-no.”

  “Okay…” Aralyn began, looking around for Caden and Kita. “We just need to look for someone―”

  “You are so pretty!” Herris broke in, touching Aralyn lightly on the arm. “You’re not going to find any trouble finding anyone here, I promise. Don’t worry about it!”

  “Uh�
� thanks. You’re very…” Aralyn stared into the exploding stars for a moment, trying to find any discernible features other than his teeth. “…Perky.”

  “Thanks! It’s the drugs,” Herris said, his smile never wavering. “Now come this way, and let’s collect the other people in your group so I don’t have to do this twice! Although that’s something you won’t normally hear me complain about!”

  They wove through the crowd and collected Kita, and then eventually found Caden lurking in a corner. Herris walked them through the room, discussing the various areas, and frequently reminding them of the fact that sex in the dance club portion was frowned upon, since the time someone had slipped in the wet act on the dance floor and broken their nose. Kita stared down at her feet and looked disgusted, but Herris hardly seemed to notice. As they neared the closed set of double doors, he held his hand to the door but didn’t open it, turning instead to the grizzly, flirtatious bouncer at the door.

  “Five for entry,” Herris said, laughing into his hand like a naughty school child.

  The bouncer rolled his eyes and nodded.

  “This is where the real magic happens, ladies and gentlemen,” said Herris. “Welcome to Redux.” He shoved the door open and ushered them through.

  Like the area they’d just left, the interior room was carved out of the stone of Hallis Three itself and it was even bigger than the club area had been. On either side of the wide walkway were holo-paneled rooms and curtain-covered doorways. Inside of each were people in the throes of virtual passion. The room was dark, lit only by blacklights along the high ceiling, which showcased unfortunate effects in the rooms where people were actively engaged with their holo-lovers.

  “Right this way please,” Herris called out over the music. “These rooms are first come first serve―I love saying that―and don’t require any creds to reserve. This is a strictly virtual area that we find appeals to our more voyeuristic clientele.” He half-turned to address them. “But don’t let that worry you. It’s completely anonymous and totally safe, and you can do whatever you want. In fact, the kinkier the better! We don’t shame anyone here. Your fantasies are completely your own, but if you put on a good enough show, Redux might even pay you to come back!”

  “That’s… uh, great,” Caden offered.

  “Isn’t it, though? We’ve had people make thousands of creds in a single night.”

  Kita leaned over and whispered into Aralyn’s ear, “I don’t think this guy really understands sarcasm.”

  “I don’t think he’s listening at all,” she answered.

  As they continued along, Aralyn was glad for the mask. Her face was flushed from both embarrassment and her drink, and even though there were only about six of eight of the front virtual rooms occupied, she’d already learned some impressive and surprising new sex positions.

  Several people watched outside of the rooms, and some even openly pleasured themselves as they watched the performances inside.

  “Two guesses what his fantasies are,” Kita said as one of the strangers in the hall started to gyrate against the holo-field as he stared into the room. His gaze was fixated on a woman inside, completely naked and being serviced by two exuberant holo-men with large, oily muscles. The holo-field in front of him was already well-lit by blacklight.

  “Oh, him? He’s a regular. Just likes to watch his wife enjoy herself,” said Herris. “But really anybody can enjoy the show, if they want! We’re about to come up to the private rooms in the back, which you can reserve for a small fee, if you’re feeling a little camera shy.” He shook a hand at the mess. “And don’t worry, we clean up after each use.”

  He winked and directed them past a bigger bar in the back of the large room, where naked people stood around talking and drinking. Two people were actively engaged in a primal act as they passed, and it looked like another man was edging forward, contemplating joining them, if the excitement he was showing was any indication.

  “That fee is nonrefundable, by the way, but if you’re looking for something a little cheaper, we also have some older VR beds available. The helmets and gloves are a little bulky at first, but you get used to it pretty fast.”

  Aralyn reeled. “No, thank you,” she said, trying not to make direct eye contact with anyone in the room with them, though she could feel the eyes of many men on her as they walked by. Sex in public didn’t really appeal to her… and besides, she knew there were likely cameras in every room―especially the private rooms―where people went about sating the desires they were too ashamed to let other people see or know about.

  Those vids would probably go for even more money than the regular clienteles’ did. There was certainly a reason that the place offered masks to protect their patrons’ identities; she imagined that a third of the known populants of their galaxy might have been arrested already if not.

  “Okay, well I can take you over to show you our fully-physical area. No holos, no virtual fields, just your pick of whatever you want from our gloriously appetizing menu, and we provide the toys,” Herris said, unfazed by their clear discomfort. “However, you’ll have to take a holo-scan before you head in there to check your health first. But even if you have certain unsavory ailments, we can either medicate or match you with one of people with the same condition, so all is not lost!”

  People milled around, men and women alike, half-dressed, lazily smoking, looking barely interested in the approaching party. Aralyn reeled at the smell of the smoke.

  Orachal. It was an orachal den. Not just a virtual sex club.

  She recognized the same glassy-eyed stare she’d seen on the people inside of the cargo bays on Mercury, and even though she knew it wasn’t quite the same, their personality-less faces disturbed her. One girl was sitting on the ground outside of a curtained off room, her long legs stretched out in front of her. Aralyn could see a dozen track marks or more on her arms, and the only thing she was wearing was a loose crop top, a pair of panties, and some split hose. Her wild, bleached hair was in short spikes that shook as she raised a finger and beckoned them closer.

  “Do you want? I’m good,” she said, words turning into slush as she tried to focus on forming the next ones. “Promise. I’m good.”

  “Are they all… high?” Kita asked, her voice soft and concerned.

  Herris turned as if he noticed for the first time that they were all on drugs. “Oh them? We find it makes the pleasure all the richer for our clientele and our employees. But don’t worry! They’re all consenting adults, et cetera. We service a”―he paused, contemplating his words―“a multitude of bad habits, I suppose you could say.”

  One of the employees, a well-muscled man in his early thirties with the same glassy-eyed orachal fiend disposition came up to Herris and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

  “Taking a break Mr. Boss Man,” he winked at Caden before passing by them and heading toward the bar.

  “So they’re not… slaves then, right?” Caden asked.

  Herris guffawed. “Honey, no.” Then he looked around and whispered, “But I’m sure they could play the part for enough creds―”

  “Thank you, but no.” Aralyn shook her head. “I don’t think we need to go any farther, really, or continue the tour. Is that… is that everything you wanted to tell us?”

  The area between the bar and the “physical” area, as Herris had called it, was mostly clear of people and the heavy bass of music made for good noise coverage. If they were going to talk, now would be a good time.

  Herris’s face was still largely unreadable beneath his exploding star mask, but he shook his head and offered a smile. “We don’t have to go further if you don’t want to,” he said. “Just have a wild time and don’t enter a paid private room without knocking first. Ta, lovebirds.” He strode off toward the bar without another look back.

  “What the actual hell just happened?” Kita asked, mouth hanging open. “You mean to tell me that wasn’t our guy all along?”

  “We just took a tour of a sex de
n,” Caden said. “On purpose?”

  “That was… I don’t…” Aralyn waved her hands to clear her thoughts. “Okay. Not our guy. We should probably just go. I take it no one fitting that description approached you in the club?”

  Kita shook her head. “Nope. But there were some very nice men out there, and we do have a couple hours to spare―”

  “Kita,” Aralyn said, holding up a hand. “Please not right when we are literally standing in several strangers’ bodily fluids.”

  The hacker gave a smirk. “All right, so no takers on the virtual rooms before we go then?”

  ****

  After exploring the other side of the Hallis Three, they discovered some restaurants, a couple bars, and a long row of capsule hotels―little “rooms” that were more like coffins and barely fit an adult male laying down―plus a couple bunk rooms even cheaper than the capsules. They couldn’t find anyone who might have been their contact, nor could they find anything that seemed like it might be a trap. That he wasn’t there already waiting for them seemed like both a good sign and a bad one to Aralyn, though she couldn’t put her finger on why.

  As they floated through the halls, Kita yawned and then rubbed her growling stomach. “What do you guys say to heading back to that hostel and getting some food before we meet this guy for real? We’ve basically explored every inch of this rock and haven’t found anything out of sorts.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” remarked Riordan. “I could use some food.”

  Caden conceded his hunger as well, and they turned around to return to the small restaurant area.

  Though it was set up somewhat like the cafeteria on Lyria V, there were only four choices of food, and waiters actually sat people at tables, took their orders, and picked up food from one of the four counters. It was a strange attempt at making it seem classier, but Aralyn didn’t know why a sex den and brothel station would really care. Perhaps to make their clients happy with the experience?