Tarquin gave him a toothy forced smile. “Yeah, she’s great."
Walter was seemingly satisfied with the response. “Right, now then. Here we are. Electric Blue." He clapped his hands again. The lift doors opened to reveal a corridor painted in that same color. A group of young woman chorusing “Hi Walter” and dressed in skimpy red leather devil outfits pushed their way into the lift giggling. The three men squeezed past and into the corridor. Logan loitered, throwing smiles over his shoulder at the girls.
“I take it they’re dressed for the ball tonight?," Logan enquired of Walter.
Walter pudgy face was again adorned with a cheery smile. “No, I don’t believe so. That’s their everyday ship board attire. I think they’ll be coming up with something a bit more creative for tonight’s activities. You both really should look at attending."
Rounding a corner, they emerged in a square courtyard surrounded by seats. Most of the seats were taken by a variety of passengers in various states of undress and some in the advanced stages of foreplay. Blue shrubs were dotted here and there. One larger shrub sheltered a recumbent form, happily snoring and surrounded by beer dispensers. The walls were covered with murals depicting complicated and highly technical forms of fornication. Walter stopped outside a door facing the courtyard.
“This is your room Mr. Pope. Your room is next door, Mr. Compton-Burnett. As I said, if you change your mind about the Ball tonight, let me know. Shipboard time is currently 5pm. The ball is set to start at 10pm. I’ll be happy to provide advice or a costume if your coverall’s aren’t sufficient for your needs." Walter paused for a moment and realizing that his new passengers were unlikely to respond, decided to make himself scarce. With a wave, he set off back down the corridor.
Logan fired the code into his door and walked into his room. Tarquin followed him in and set his now largely empty bag down on the floor. The room was dominated by a large AG bed. A comfortable looking leather chair with enough room for three people and equipped with straps, filled one corner. The walls and ceiling were covered with full length holographic screens currently depicting a woodland scene. Some of the animals looked to be fornicating. Logan ordered the wall to switch itself off and went to sit on the bed. He eyed his sagging bag remorsefully.
“Wasn’t much point bringing a bag in the end”
Tarquin favored him with a grim smile. “I’ve still got a few aces up my sleeve and there’s lots more where that came from on my ship."
“I’ve got a nagging feeling we’re going to need it.” Logan stood up. “Let’s find Felix.”
Chapter Three
Hedonism. The pursuit of pleasure. Most people defined pleasure as something they enjoyed. This could be as varied as nailing your testicles to a table, examining with relish the large chunk of ear wax just removed from said orifice, shagging your boss’s partner behind their backs or just being naked in completely inappropriate places. For the large majority, participating in pleasurable activities was something that they’d like to make a permanent vocation. One world had. Revel.
Colonized in 2600, the planet was a veritable paradise. The first settlers had come to the conclusion that work was a load of arse, and frankly, should be something that other people did. To this end, they created the Hedonistic Pleasure Society. In all fairness, the population did actually work but that work was obviously geared towards pleasure. Revel rapidly gained a reputation for a place to go to have fun. Mostly fun that leaned towards sex. Almost nothing was sacred or frowned upon, a place where you could live your fantasies and do what you normally couldn’t in your everyday mundane existence. It was suspected some of the founders had somehow got hold of exceptionally old copies of “Fantasy Island."
To meet the demand of pleasure seekers and tourists alike, the Hedonist’s had built a fleet of StarCruisers. These ships were designed to encompass as many of the activities found on Revel as possible. A kind of entrée really. The final port of every Hedonist StarCruiser was Revel. The culmination of three months in space, an excuse for a huge party (not that they needed one), and a chance to see Hedonist’s on their home turf. People could, of course, come and go as they pleased, and a lot did, finding that Hedonism was surprisingly tiring work.
The ships themselves, like all modern transport devices, were largely controlled and maintained by AI’s. Other AI constructs were generally based on their owner’s personalities. Hedonist AI’s were largely unique. The brain patterns and personalities of some of the more famous (and infamous) Hedonist’s were copied, combined with almost infinite memory and processing power and turned loose to control their ships. Of course, AI’s imbedded in people’s neural structures could do the same thing; that is, copy their hosts personalities, but these ones weren’t famous and in control of an excess of 20,000 human lives. The side effect of combining a real personality with an AI was that the personality became, after an extended period, much more logical. Personality quirks and real human emotions still existed to a degree but were now presided over by the logic framework provided by the AI.
The Dirty Little Minx was controlled by the personality of one Tina Hogsworth. Tina, long since dead, lived on in the spacious cyberspace of her AI’s mental framework, observing the physical activities that she had once been an enthusiastic participant. Tina’s claim to fame, amongst other things, was that she still had the record for having the largest amount of sexual partners, in one sitting (so to speak), whilst on a tight rope. Of course, that had lead to her eventual demise. During her 126th tryst, attempting some rather convoluted and technically impressive sexual connection, her partner had slipped sending them tumbling and screaming (some said that she was still in rapture), the 500 meters to the pavement.
Felix read all this in the pamphlet provided when he arrived on board. He could have more easily accessed it via his AI but had turned it off to better remain incognito. That he was actually reading it was surprising, but he was bored. Not many who traveled on a Hedonist SpaceCruiser could ever admit to such, but with his life seemingly at risk, Felix had to keep a low profile. He’d arrived on the Dirty Little Minx 4 hours previously, spent the first two sitting in his room bored as a bastard and the next hour entertaining himself by playing with the various holographic displays in his room.
The Hedonists, as he discovered, had basically no shame. Anything debacherous, sexual, deviant or adrenaline filled could be accessed. Most of it in real time and aboard the ship, and invariably sexual. Out of boredom, he’d almost accepted the offer of the ship to send a partner to his room. Almost. He may be on the run, with various armed psychopaths chasing him, but he wasn’t going to resort to any form of sexual standard lowering.
Finally, armed with the belief that he was unlikely to be tracked here and with the attitude that he may as well try and enjoy himself whilst on board, he asked the ship if there was a quiet bar available. The ship offered him a list of 36. Selecting the remotest one on level 21, he found himself in a small bar cum restaurant known as Mojos. Situated right on the hull, Mojos provided panorama’s, via large field windows, out into space – or in this case – into the gray nothingness of nospace.
Relatively small, there were six bright green booths and a long red colored bar accompanied by tall bar stools. The carpet was yellow which Felix could only assume was to hide beer spillage, although it didn’t look like the place to host a great deal of swilling. The place was sparsely occupied which suited Felix. Two of the booths had occupants. Three men sat talking quietly over beer in one and a party of six more rowdy “Martians” occupied the corner both.
Noticing his reflection in the mirror facing the bar, Felix smoothed his fake mustache down. As Horace Belloc, he was now a red head, had a bulbous nose and was a foot taller thanks to platform boots. Not much of a disguise but then again he certainly wasn’t an expert at this sort of thing. That was more Logan’s field. He wondered what his two friends would make of his disappearance but there was little he could do about it now.
Felix orde
red a beer and for lack of better things to do, contented himself by watching the Martians getting drunk in the corner booth.
The Martians were a product of typical human ingenuity. After watching humankind explore the galaxy for a hundred years without finding a trace of intelligent, space faring extra terrestrials, a small disheartened group of “first contact” extremists decided to take the rather bizarre step of creating their own. Investing large amounts of time and money into genetic engineering, and buying their own planet off the Areopagites - known as New Mars -, the Martians were born. Genetically modified to look like humans stereotypical little green men, the Martians were now capable of propagating their own species, and in fact, New Mars had a population of rather more than a billion.
Felix had only encountered them on two occasions before. Unsurprisingly, the Martians excelled at Astroengineering, and in fact, their most prominent and well respected University, Arthur C. Clarke, provided some of the best AstroEng graduates in the galaxy. Felix had requested two research graduates from Arthur C. Clarke to help out with one of the tricky phases in the Slipdrive development. Without which, he doubted whether the drive would have been developed.
Four foot tall, green and all uniformly dressed in silver ship suits, the six Martians were playing some form of drinking game. They were equipped with seven disproportionately long, multi-jointed fingers on their hands, fingers they were currently using to good effect. From what Felix could make out, the game seemed to involve lots of drinking and string pulling. The Martians had ordered their table to create a hole in the middle through which six strings could be seen descending towards their mid riffs. After all six Martians had sculled their glass, the loser would have to pull a string. The string, Felix finally worked out, must be attached to each players genitalia. If none of the players cried out, then the string puller would then have to down another glass. If a player cried out, then he (Felix assumed they were men), would have to drink his respective glass. The wild card was of course if you pulled your own string so it was in your best interests not to pull too hard, but of course hard enough to make someone else cry out (hopefully not yourself).
Felix watched their rapid descent into extreme intoxication for about half an hour. One of the string pulling Martians was now barely able to raise his glass to his lips. Due to intoxication or merely through willpower, his drinking cohorts weren’t uttering a sound at each string pulling episode. The unfortunate little green man was drinking glass after glass in quick succession.
Chuckling to himself and now none too sober either, Felix was distracted by an attractive brunette woman entering the bar. She pulled up a bar stool a couple down from Felix and ordered herself a drink. The three men sitting at the other booth, apparently in disgust at their neighbor’s behavior, decided to leave. One of them exchanged a significant look with the brunette as he was leaving, a fact that didn’t escape Felix’s attention.
Mojo’s was run by a couple from one of the English colony worlds, judging by their accents. Sean, the chef cum bar man, came over at Felix’s signal. Felix ordered another beer and an entrée of mussels marinated in wine and garlic.
“First time hedonist?," Sean asked with a smile. He was a blond man of medium build and height with an engaging smile and a thick accent.
Felix grinned wryly. “How did you know?."
“Most first timers usually opt for something a bit quieter before throwing themselves into the thick of things. Hedonism can be quite tiring and a bit in your face at times. Take those guys for instance," he said gesturing in the direction of the Martians, “New comers as well. These Martians lead a pretty quiet existence normally, but get a few beers or chemicals into them, and they’ll be up for anything. Mark my words, you’ll see them dancing naked with flaming candles up their arses later on. That’s if you’re planning on having a later on that is." Sean paused to check a wine glass for spots. “Going to the ball tonight?," he asked.
“Didn’t have any plans to. I’m not really here to enjoy myself. I’m actually on my way to meet someone."
“Well, in my experience, its best not to waste a good opportunity. Me and the wife have been on this ship for nearly five years now. At first, we sampled everything the ship had to offer and then some. Now, we’re more content to just watch. But you, I think, could do with a bit of unwinding. You look a bit stressed.” Sean’s wife Maggie bought Felix’s dish out which he tucked into with gusto whilst Sean busied himself about the bar.
The brunette leant over. “Those good?”
Felix, his mouth full with mussels, waited until he had swallowed before answering. “Yeah. Some of the best I’ve ever had."
“Well, they smell delicious. I think I might order some as well."
“You want to try one of mine?”
She smiled. And a lovely smile it was to. Very pretty girl. Large blue eyes, long straight brown hair, a curvaceous figure covered in a form hugging black leather jumpsuit. Very little makeup. Not that she needed much with such lovely features.
“I’d love too." She took one, chewed and swallowed with obvious relish. Felix was captivated with the look of pleasure on her face. “Mmm, good.” She wiped her hand which she then proffered to Felix.
“I’m Crystal by the way."
“Fel…, um Horace."
“Well FelumHorace, I couldn’t help overhearing. I’m a first timer as well. I think us first timers should stick together. I take it you weren’t planning on going to the ball?”
“Not especially. You?."
“Why not? It sounds like fun. What else are you going to do. Mope in your cabin?."
“The thought had occurred to me, but everyone keeps suggesting the ball tonight." He looked at Crystal again. She was looking back at him with a charming half smile. “I must say, the idea is starting to grow on me though." He grinned.
“Good. Its settled. I’ll meet you at 8. Here’s my room number." She stared at him blankly, obviously sending the details to his AI. Crystal frowned. “Your AI isn’t working?."
“Um, yeah. I’m having some technical difficulties."
“There’s some good technicians on board I believe. I’m sure they’ll be happy to sort it out for you."
“I’m sure they would. Unfortunately, um." Felix thought fast. Lying wasn’t really his forte. “My girlfriend didn’t want me going on this cruise, so I thought, if she can’t contact me, she won’t know where I am."
Crystal looked slightly disappointed. “Girlfriend?”
“Did I say girlfriend? I meant ex girlfriend. She said if I went, then it was all over."
“Looks like its all over then. Hedonism obviously means more to you than a girlfriend." Crystal raised her eyebrows at him.
“No, of course not," he replied hastily. “I’m not really here for the Hedonism. I’m actually on my way to see someone."
“Business or pleasure?”
“Business. No. Pleasure. Oh bollocks.” Felix had discovered many years ago that he was a crap liar. He was also a slightly drunk crap liar.
“I think you’re a little confused there FelumHorace. Maybe you should have another beer."
“I think I might regroup whilst I avail myself of the men’s urinary facilities."
“Pardon?”
“I’m going to the little boy’s room. Be back in a tic."
In the toilet, Felix splashed himself in the face with water and looked at himself in the mirror.
“What the fuck am I doing?," he asked his reflection.
His reflection looked a bit confused as well. Here he was with his life in danger, flirting with a complete stranger when he should be safely tucked up in his room. He and his reflection shrugged in unison. Oh well. She was rather nice.
Back at the bar, Cystal was munching away on her own bowl of mussels.
“Get it sorted out”?, she inquired.
“Yep. Something just occurred to me. If you’re a first timer as well, how did you know those guys who walked out before”?
&nbs
p; “Oh them? They’re just business associates."
“Business associates? What do you actually do”?
“I protect the business interests of my employer."
“And who might that be?."
“I’d rather keep that a secret. Isn’t a women entitled to a few secrets?”
“Depends if that secret involves having her drinking companion’s testicles forcibly removed by said employer with a blunt instrument.”
“Oh, nothing like that. Nothing personal, but my employer would rather remain anonymous." She smiled at him again in a rather attractive fashion.
“Now what exactly do you do?”
“Would you believe I clean toilets?”
“Nope”
“It was worth a shot. I’m actually a technical engineer."
“Oh. Working on anything I might know about?”
“I certainly hope not. Like you, I prefer to keep some secrets."
Crystal laughed. “Well, everyone’s entitled to them, I suppose."
“That’s very generous of you."
The next hour passed quite pleasantly. Crystal was a great conversationalist. She was intelligent, possessed a dry sense of humor and it certainly wasn’t an effort to look at her. Crystal, for her part, was equally impressed by Felix, or Horace as he was now known. Handsome, his shyness concealed behind a façade of laddishness. He’d have to loose the mustache though – it looked dodgy.
The bar was now empty – the rather drunken Martians having staggered out some time before. He and Crystal were getting on so well, he hardly noticed the two men who walked into the bar and made their way purposely towards him.
◊
Logan wasn’t particularly impressed. In fact, unimpressed and slightly worried. If he was in Felix’s shoes, he would have locked himself in his cabin and kept his head down. But, then again, they were on a Hedonist ship. Hard to resist temptation when temptation was so obviously asking for a good seeing to.
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