In the Void

by Sheryl Nantus

  Japanese Tea Ceremony. Chess and Go masters, Tai Chi experts. Photography.

  Harry with his hands on his hips, shirtless and beaming at the audience.

  Catherine moved onto the next image, consisting of April Osano in a black leather outfit, holes cut out in all the right areas to offer maximum visual stimulation. She carried a riding crop and a coiled whip hung from her waist waiting to be used.

  BDSM.

  That was her specialty.

  She couldn’t help chuckling. No wonder she’d been able to put the two men down so easily. A woman like that would be a formidable opponent in and out of the bedroom.

  Catherine frowned at the portrait. She couldn’t place where she’d seen the courtesan before. Maybe in her previous life she’d been a businesswoman and they’d crossed paths.

  As soon as the thought emerged she dismissed it. Someone like Osano didn’t walk in both worlds. She didn’t have to. She was comfortable with where she was and what she did.

  She still seemed damned familiar.

  Her attention went to Sean’s portfolio. Unlike the other courtesans he didn’t strut back and forth across the stage showing his stuff or playing out some fantasy scenario. Instead, he sat on the edge of a desk and smiled, holding a book in one hand. He wore a white Irish sweater and jeans, covering more skin than any other courtesan’s image she’d seen so far.

  And yet it was enough to trap her.

  She gazed at the image, wondering how many other women had seen the same picture.

  The scroll across the bottom of the screen advertised his experience. A degree in English Literature and he’d played at the New Globe Theater on Ares in the yearly Shakespearean Festival. Glowing reviews on his performance available on request.

  I bet.

  How did someone like that end up here? What sort of events could bring a man with those qualifications onto the Bonnie Belle?

  Catherine sighed. She wasn’t going to get the answers from the AI or from anyone other than Sean himself.

  The images looped around and began again.

  She wasn’t going to find any more information here.

  “I assume Captain Keller doesn’t have a portfolio.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Can you give me any information on her?” Catherine crossed her legs.

  “Negative,” Belle repeated. “While the courtesans have public data available and provided to possible clients, the Guild captains are under no such requirement.”

  “Any public mention of Sam Keller on file?” It was a shot in the dark but one she felt compelled to take.

  “Negative,” Belle responded, almost too quickly. “Her military records are sealed, as are her Guild files. May I be of further assistance?”

  Catherine nodded. She didn’t expect to be able to find much about Sam but it was annoying there was so much of a black hole.

  “What can you tell me about Marshal LeClair?”

  “The marshal has an impeccable record. I can display the public records of his career.”

  “Please.” Catherine watched the portfolio images disappear, replaced by images of a white-haired, handsome man, most of them with him receiving some sort of award. “How did he first become involved with the Bonnie Belle?”

  “There was an incident involving one of the courtesans.” Belle’s tone was guarded. “The marshal met us at Branson Prime in order to investigate the crime and apprehend the offender.”

  She frowned. “I don’t remember reading anything about this on the news feeds.”

  Belle stayed silent.

  “What sort of ‘incident’ necessitated a marshal being sent to a mining facility to meet a Mercy ship?” She shifted her tone to the professional level, the one that sent lesser businessmen running for cover.

  “One of the crew was murdered,” Belle answered. “The marshal and captain identified and arrested the killer.”

  Catherine leaped off the bed, her stomach rolling. There were two empty suites on the Belle. What were the odds—

  “Was she killed in this room?” She wasn’t one given to hysterics or superstitions but—

  “Yes.” A small table began to extend from the corner of the room. “Your meal is ready.”

  She spun around, inspecting every corner. “This room.”

  “The suite was cleaned upon removal of the body,” Belle intoned as the wall panel opened to show her food. “All personal effects were removed and the room sanitized to current Guild standards. Please do not let this affect your stay on board.”

  Catherine closed her eyes, trying to calm her pulse. She’d survived being nearly blown apart on her own ship, shoved into a life pod and avoided dying from oxygen starvation by the skin of her teeth.

  Being in a dead woman’s suite seemed mild in comparison.

  She smiled. A week ago she would have been freaking out and calling Sam to demand a room change.

  Now it just seemed—another peculiarity of being on the Bonnie Belle.

  She’d learned a lot in her short time on the Mercy ship.

  Now all she had to do was decide about Sean.

  Chapter Ten

  Sean rolled over in bed and winced. Damned woman. He understood why April had broken up the fight with Harry. But she didn’t have to dislocate his bloody shoulder. He’d taken a dose of muscle relaxants to try and ease the pain and it had—until he’d woken up and moved.

  “Lights.” The panels over his bed crept up from a dim light to full power, as he’d instructed Belle to do on his first day aboard.

  He sat up and rolled his shoulders forward, then back. A glance at the glowing digital clock showed he’d slept for six hours.

  Time on the Belle was always fluid. You slept when you could because when you hit landfall you’d be working almost twenty-four hours a day depending on how many clients you had calling.

  He was lucky compared to the other courtesans. In the past six months his customers had been more interested in talking rather than intimacy, turning down sex in exchange for honest heartfelt discussions about their work and their lives. He’d mentioned it to Kendra and she’d remarked that their line of work had an upper limit age wise.

  He winced, doing the math in his head from the last landfall.

  Some of them could have been his daughters, if he had any.

  The surprising thing was that he didn’t mind not being constantly in bed. If it were possible for sex to become boring, he’d gotten there.

  The first problem was that he had nowhere to go and years left to fulfill on his contract.

  The second problem was that Catherine Rogers had reawakened his libido and it was ravenously hungry.

  A low chime alerted him to an incoming call.

  “Belle, let it through.” Sean stood up and scratched his bare chest, noting the start of a love handle.

  He didn’t feel like going through his workout routine. It might be mandatory but he was getting too old to get obsessed about a little bit of body fat.

  Tomorrow. He’d do a double workout tomorrow.

  “It’s Kendra. May I enter?”

  “Come on in. Do you want some tea?” Picking his shirt up off the floor he padded toward the receiving room, glad he’d left his jeans on. There wasn’t a whole lot of modesty among courtesans but he’d rather not put himself on display.

  He’d flopped into bed right after the confrontation with Harry, not bothering to undress fully.

  Kendra swept in, dressed in a long red dress that left little to the imagination. The almost see-through fabric gave her the appearance of a fairy, her scarlet wings ready to enfold around any man in her sights.

  “I’m fine, thank you.” She twirled in front of him. “What do you think?”

  Sean caught h
is breath, impressed at the amount of skin exposed and yet not exposed. “You had Jenny sew that up for you now? In the middle of a crisis?”

  Kendra giggled and seated herself at the table. “Don’t be a fool—she’s not the only one who can thread a needle. It’s been a side project for a few weeks and with the extended trip I needed something to focus on.” She drew her finger along the smooth wood. “I heard you had a bit of a tiff with Harry.”

  “Nothing for you to worry yourself about. April shouldn’t have bothered you with the info.”

  “It’s my business to keep everyone in line. Including you.” She shook her head. “What’s wrong with you? You know better.”

  Sean shrugged into his shirt and worked on the buttons. “Harry was being a prick. Bragging about being with Catherine like she was just—” He caught himself before finishing the sentence.

  Kendra tilted her head to one side and waited.

  Sean cleared his throat.

  She stayed silent.

  “I didn’t mean—” he started.

  “I know what you meant.” Kendra drew figures on the polished wood with her fingernail, careful not to leave a mark. “You know it’s none of your business if she slept with him. Or mine. Or anyone’s other than the Guild and they’re only concerned about the bill being paid.”

  Sean shifted in his chair. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have now or at any time.

  “You seem to be rather attached to her.” The fingernail retreated. “Maybe you should re-evaluate your feelings about Ms. Rogers.”

  “Reevaluate what?” Sean’s attempt at control snapped. “Giving a shit about her fucking an idiot like Harry makes me a bad guy? Thinking she deserves better than some damned sweet-talking fop who hunted her down and took advantage of her in a weak moment?” He stood up. “We’re supposed to be helping people by making them happy, not taking their money like a mugger in the dark.”

  He paused, breathless.

  Kendra rose slowly from her chair, not breaking eye contact. “I understand your concerns. Believe it or not I do worry about some of our associates misusing their, ah, abilities.” She nodded toward the wall. “Bianca, for example. She’s still so filled with rage over Halley’s death that I don’t know if she’ll ever fully recover. But we do what we can and we do what we must.” She stared at him. “Which doesn’t involve brawling in the corridor.”

  “Understood.” Sean bowed his head, hopefully ending the discussion. He didn’t want to talk about Catherine any more.

  “Thank you.” She went to the door and opened it. “For what it’s worth, Harry didn’t fuck her.”

  Sean felt his cheeks burn at the coarse words.

  “He wanted to tell her about his brother, who died in one of those transports. I have no reason not to believe his side of the story.” She paused. “I told him he was wrong to taunt you about the meeting and he agreed. Don’t hold it against him. Harry’s still a young pup who couldn’t turn down a chance to tease the old man on the crew.”

  Sean snorted. “I’ll show him an old man. If April hadn’t interfered—”

  “You’d probably be nursing more than a sore shoulder.” She wagged a finger. “If you want to arrange an official fight I’ll get Jenny to set up a ring in the landing bay and we’ll have helmets and gloves shipped in. But we won’t have you two brawling in the halls. Not good for business if you both show up for work with bruises and bloody noses.”

  “I just—”

  She held up her hand, silencing him. “You thought you were protecting a lady’s reputation. You’ve got quite the chivalrous streak in you, Sean Harrison. I find it quite refreshing.” She eyed him. “The question is what are you going to do when she leaves the Belle?”

  He shrugged and closed his eyes, shocked into silence.

  * * *

  Catherine paced back and forth, her umpteenth circuit of her suite. Reception room, business room, personal room—rinse and repeat. Backward, forward, any combination she could make to circle the three areas. She’d circled the beds clockwise and counter clockwise. She’d studied the bedposts, specifically the metal rings set in the wood, and let her imagination wander to places she’d almost forgotten existed.

  It was hard not to go there. After all, this was a Mercy ship. All she had to do was check the menu, snap her fingers and order up a delivery of whomever and whatever she wanted.

  A shiver went down her spine.

  No. Not yet, at least.

  The harsh truth of the matter was she was tired past the point of exhaustion.

  She knew why. It’d happened to her before, the effort of putting together a foolproof presentation sucking the energy out of her bones and leaving her weak and disoriented. The steak dinner had gone a long way to replenish her fuel tank from a physical point of view but she needed to clear her mind.

  A good stroll should do it. She rolled her shoulders forward and back, enjoying the ease of movement. Sean’s massages and treatment had done the job—not only did he manage to bring the burns down to nothing more than pinkish skin he’d worked the kinks out of her injured shoulder.

  Catherine opened the front door and peered out.

  The hallway was empty of the drama she’d seen earlier. Seeing the two men helpless on the floor had been interesting in its own way. April had hovered over the two like an avenging angel set on maintaining the peace on board.

  The marshal standing off to one side had made the scene almost comical.

  She stepped into the corridor and walked toward the far end. Maybe a cup of hot tea from the galley would help her aching and raw throat. Add some honey and it’d be perfect—

  A siren blasted through her introspection, breaking the silence.

  Her heart felt like it was about to burst through her chest. She flattened herself against the wall, her palms sweating.

  “Belle?” She choked on the tremors in her voice. “What’s going on?”

  “The UNS ship has detected a drone approaching us.”

  “Unmanned? Like a missile?” She looked around. The galley door was closer than her own suite.

  “Unknown. Please return to your room or enter the next area. The hallway is considered unsafe at this time.”

  Catherine didn’t want to discuss where the safest spot on the Belle would be, so she hopped through the door to the galley. She pulled the hatch tight behind her and turned around.

  She wasn’t alone.

  “We got trouble.” Bianca glared at her from the other end of the room. “Ain’t that a bitch.” The courtesan leaned against the wall, sucking on a strawberry-colored tube.

  In another time and place Catherine would have her fired or, at the very least, written up for her attitude. Bianca wore a pair of tight jeans and a T-shirt at least two sizes too small with a jagged lightning bolt across the front.

  She strode up to the drink dispenser and ordered up a tube of hot tea, pointedly ignoring the courtesan. She might have to live with them for a few days but she didn’t have to be bosom buddies with all of them.

  “Your friends are back.” Bianca crossed her arms. “Guess you’re not as lucky as you thought.” She finished her treat with a loud slurp and crossed the room with long strides to hop up on the table.

  Catherine studied the dispenser panel.

  The heated plastic stick slid into Catherine’s hands, warm to the touch. She tapped the side pouches to add honey, watching the liquid gold melt into the tea.

  “You like your cabin?” Bianca leaned against the table, her fingers gripping the edges. There were dark circles under her bloodshot eyes.

  “It’s fine.” Catherine glanced toward the cockpit.

  No escape there. If there was an attack drone headed for the Belle the captain would be busy and hardly in a position to negotiate a peace treat
y between them.

  “Used to belong to Halley. She died in there,” Bianca said.

  Catherine didn’t show any emotion.

  She’d dealt with bitches before. High-priced execs or courtesans, they all acted the same way when they got in the mood.

  She pulled the strip off the top of her tea and tested the heat level. Still too hot.

  “I think her ghost is still in there.” Bianca swung her feet back and forth like a pendulum, narrowly missing the floor with her high heels. “Spinning above your bed, her throat cut ear to ear.” She drew her thumb across her neck to illustrate. “Bled out all over the place. I don’t know if Jenny was able to get all of the blood.”

  Catherine sighed. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

  Bianca shrugged.

  “Not too long ago I saw my friends blown apart and shredded into space. Right now a ghostly visitor would be a welcome distraction.” She tested the tea again.

  Still too hot to drink.

  To hell with this. She wasn’t in the boardroom trying to negotiate a takeover deal. There was no reason she had to play polite.

  She turned back to Bianca. “I get you don’t like me here. I get you’re a bitchy little girl who doesn’t like anyone interfering with your routine. But suck it up, sunshine—I’m not going anywhere.” She pointed at the cockpit door. “If those assholes come on board, you’re right there beside me. Won’t be able to get out of that with a wink and a lick of your lips.”

  Bianca glared at her.

  “So pack up your attitude and stay the fuck out of my way. I’ll be gone soon enough and you can get back to business.” Catherine smirked. “If you can get any.”

  It was a challenge.

  The silly girl accepted.

  Bianca leaped off the table and charged at her, snarling.

  The tube of tea, still hot, slammed into Bianca’s chest with the drinking edge wide open and spewing liquid.

  She stuttered to a stop, grabbing at the scalding drink as it speckled her front and fell to the floor.

  Catherine stepped up and delivered a right hook with ease. She’d taken a few courses in her lifetime.