Her Darkest Beauty: An Alien Invasion Series - The Second Generation

by Patricia Renard Scholes

  She nodded.

  “Good. Your days will begin at fourteen hundred and run until two hundred. Sometimes you’ll work later, but since most of our clients arrive before two, you won’t usually need to work longer than that. You do not need to stay until the last Drake leaves. That’s my job. I’m not usually here this early, but we had a slow night last night, and I needed to catch up on this paperwork, which will be your job from now on. You’ll keep records of all of our clients, take their money, and be responsible for organizing the details of the special events I plan.

  “Your pay would be better if you worked the floor.” He waved her silent when she started to protest. “I don’t care about your motivations. I just want an attractive woman who can interact with our clients in a knowledgeable manner. Is that you?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Majesty!” he boomed. “From now on I am royalty to you, which means I own every part of your life. You don’t even get to breathe without my permission. Got it?”

  “Yes, Majesty.” Karra put on an impassive face. If she needed to work for this freet, she did not need to give him the pleasure of seeing her ruffled.

  Her answer seemed to satisfy him, however. He spent the rest of the morning showing her exactly what he expected of his assistant.

  Chapter 16

  How are things at the Palace?" Jem arranged his long lean body in the seat across from her.

  The Garden's many alcoves hid them among trees, vines and hanging plants. Ivy-covered lattice dividers separated the tables where imitation cliffs did not. Fountains played within ponds that fed miniature streams that in turn cascaded into waterfall ribbons connecting each of the six floors. She thought it might be possible to get lost in the overgrown maze.

  She took a deep breath of the moist air, a perpetual spring damp boldly lying about the descending winter. "Easiest job I've ever had. Do you want me to do anything else?"

  "Just continue to be the King's best assistant. Learn as much as you can about each client. What I know about Mason Wester is that he values obedience above all, so as long as you please him, you’ll have no worries."

  "That's all?"

  "Oh, one more thing. Buy yourself the most conservative Nevian luncheon suit you can find, and wear it here next handspan."

  "Nevian?" She gave him a bored shrug. "Whatever."

  She wanted to talk to him about the family, about her daughter. You were gone too long this time, she kept hearing Chalatta say.

  She held out her hand with some money in it. "Half of my income for the rent, the twenty-wen note for Su."

  He shook his head. "Keep it all this time. That clothing may cost you a bundle." He reached in the pocket of his longvest and pulled out a tiny box. "The palmfilms I promised. They’re very costly, so be careful not to tear them. The next pair will come out of your pocket, and that would be ten thousand wens. Don't let anyone see you put them on."

  As though I would… She scowled at him, but she put them in her purse without comment.

  She returned the half for the rent to her purse, but thrust the twenty-wen note at him. "Before I promised to work for you, and certainly before I promised to wear Nevian clothing, I promised to support Chalatta." When he hesitated she added, "Don't worry. I'll have enough to buy something Nevian." Especially now that I have another set of prints.

  "See that you do." He took the offered money and left.

  Interesting. The Nevian clothing was more important than the casual way he had introduced them.

  She chose Emeri's for shopping. Clothing purchased there could appear to have come from a Third Level boutique, if she selected carefully.

  Conservative, she mused, riffling through the dresses on a particular rack. All Nevian clothing was conservative. Weather permitting, Homelander women, and not just paygirls, showed some skin when they dressed, some neck or back, bare arms or legs, the cleavage of well-rounded breasts or a peek at an almond navel.

  Nevians showed nothing. They dressed in a variety of styles, but always completely covered. The most matronly apparel used fold upon fold of fabric in underskirts, overskirts, hoods and veils. Did Jem want her to buy something like that?

  A Nevian sales lady, surprised to see a Homelander on this floor, approached with a less than friendly offer to help. "Aren't we shopping a bit above our station?" the woman asked.

  Karra dismissed her with a raised eyebrow and continued browsing. She ignored the saleswoman as she continued to hover like a Security aircar.

  "I'll take this one," she finally told the woman, pulling a brown ensemble from its hanger. "And this." The other item was an off-white ruffled underdress. Its ruffles were meant to show from beneath an outer garment at the hem, wrists, and neckline. By adding a gold chain to the waist, she could draw attention to her flat stomach, even though the chocolate cloth would appropriately hide it.

  The sales lady frowned, but accepted the purchase once she saw it would be in cash.

  Karra ignored her pursed lips and knitted brow, wondering about other purchases. She had just spent nearly half her income on a single Nevian outfit. A boutique would charge several times this price, and she still needed to make some additional purchases. She needed something to do aside from watching the screen, but with all her money nearly gone, she hesitated to contact her financial-legal counselor just yet for extra cash, even if the palmfilms would let her through his door. He was Nevian. It might not be wise to test his loyalty right now. She settled for a couple of books and a bookshelf.

  Her problem was how to be Laren in front of the King. She kept biting back acid comments, forcing herself to be the compliant Laren. It was never difficult to be a mouse for a few days, but Karra realized she would soon rebel against her role were she required to play this one for much longer.

  I can help you be Laren, the beast offered again. I can get you inside her skin.

  And he could, she was convinced. Again, she did not tell the beast to leave.

  "I can't do it, Jem," she tries to tell him. "They're all Nevians. All of them." Panic rises in her voice.

  "You've played with Others before." He dismisses her fears with his roguish smile.

  "But never so many in one night, night after night, as now. And I recognize some of them. What if one of them has recognized me?"

  "Nonsense." Jem is not listening. "All Others look alike."

  "I'm telling you, I'm sure some of them have recognized me, always by a different name, of course, but one day someone will add two and two…"

  "And get three," he finishes. "No one will ever know."

  "Jem, please get me out of there!"

  He has already risen from his chair to leave.

  She tries to run after him, but she is glued to her chair.

  Two nameless, identical Nevians take seats opposite her.

  "Karra!" one of them says.

  She jerked awake. Her body was covered with sweat. It took hours to return to sleep.

  Karra awoke late to someone pounding on her door. She let fly a curse, wondering what Jem would want so early…almost twelve hundred, well, so late in the morning. Wrapping a sheer robe over the undershift she had worn to bed, she stumbled to the door. To her surprise Marleen, not Jem, stood in front of her. She looked apologetic.

  “Sorry. I thought you’d be up. I, ah, we have the same day off this handspan. I thought you might want some company.”

  “Not really. Kaffa. I’ll make us some kaffa. Go ahead and sit down. What really brings you here, Marleen?”

  Marleen sat at the small table, her eyes glancing through the door at the huge unmade bed. “I’ve always wondered what a Hostess apartment looked like.”

  “So now you know. We aren’t exactly friends, so what brings you here?”

  Marleen looked uncomfortable. “The King,” she said. “He likes to learn everything he can about his help. He thought you might be entertaining prospective customers.”

  “I’m not, as you can see. Peek in as often as you like. I
don’t entertain.” She placed a cup of instant in front of Marleen and another cup by the second chair and sat down. Her long, waist-length hair spilled past her shoulders in untidy ropes as she sipped her kaffa. It would take a while to restore order and get ready in time to meet Jem.

  “I didn’t think so, which is what I told him, but he has ordered me to spend the day with you just to make sure.”

  “Great.” She frowned into her cup before bringing it to her lips again. “All right, snoop if you have to. I need the job and we both need to stay on the King’s good side. I’m gonna take a shower. You need to watch that too?”

  “No. Laren, I’m sorry. It’s how it is with him.”

  “Fine.” She left her half-empty cup on the table and headed for the bathroom, wondering how she was going to explain Marleen’s presence to Jem.

  After she finished her shower and began to get ready to see Jem, Marleen eyed the Nevian clothing with suspicion.

  “That’s an interesting choice. What is it you do on your day off, sweetie?”

  “Take myself to lunch, buy a few things, maybe go to the library or an art gallery.”

  “Really?” Marleen helped her fasten the tiny buttons at the sleeves. Karra hoped she did not examine her wrists under the ruffles too closely. Palmfilms were easy enough to hide, except at the wrists. But although she might leave Karra's prints all over her apartment, she had no intention of leaving them all over a public place.

  "It doesn't really look all that bad now that I see you in it. That gold chain around your middle is an especially nice touch. But there's so much of it! Clear to the floor? Do you have to use every freeted button on that thing?"

  "Yes.”

  "Are you sure I don’t have something to report to the King after all?"

  Laren returned a tight smile. "I've always wanted to play the lady, and now that I have the money I can. Please don't spoil it for me, Marleen."

  She watched as Laren arranged a few stray strands of her expertly coifed hair. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of spoiling it. Actually, this sounds like fun."

  “Let's go to the Garden for lunch," Karra said, trying a smile. "I'll even treat."

  "You're going to spend all your money in one day," Marleen grumbled.

  “What else is it for?”

  "To save."

  "Your money, maybe. Not mine. Come on, Marleen." Laren wrapped herself in a brown, fur-trimmed cape.

  Marleen's expression relaxed. She followed without further comment.

  They arrived at the Garden a little later than Karra intended. She searched quickly for Jem, and found him all alone in a booth next to an imitation cliff, sulking over a drink. Afraid he would be unable to see her in the tiny corner the hostess had shown them, Karra asked if another table would be all right. The change took her right past Jem. The next move would have to be his. She hoped he had seen her.

  For a few minutes he remained stationary. Then, as if drunk, he stumbled over to where she and Marleen were sitting.

  "You useless bite," he began, leaning on the table. "Look at you, fancy as a Hostess. I'll bet you're spending it as fast as you're getting it, nothing left over for your own brother. Selfish gray-lipped bite." He staggered off.

  "Sami, wait!" she called. But he kept going.

  "Excuse me," she said to Marleen. "I've got to talk to him."

  "What for? You can't reason with a drunk." But Laren had already left.

  "Sami, hey! It's not like that!" she made sure Marleen heard as Laren hurried after him.

  "Good move," Karra whispered when she finally caught up. "I was wondering how to get away from her. These clothes made her suspicious, and she’s the eyes and ears of the King."

  "You look great, Sis. That outfit is exactly right. From now on I want you to be seen in public dressed just like that. After lunch I want you to go to a Vitro-Vision, the one down the walkway in the next pad. If you see a tall Nevian in a dark blue longsuit with pale blue trim, 'accidentally' bump into him. This is not a contact. You are merely to initiate a conversation, but as a refined lady, not a paygirl. Got the picture?"

  "If he decides to talk to me?"

  “Be friendly, but not seductive."

  "Done."

  "Do you have any money left? The cape looks expensive."

  "It was. But I still saved back half for you, and even some money back for Su."

  "Su? The Homelander Front comes first in your life now."

  "Not the way I see it." From an inside pocket of her cape she brought a handful of twenty-wen notes. "Half my income for you, as agreed. A twenty for Su."

  "The Front will not agree, Sis. Think carefully."

  “I have. Half for you. A twenty for Su.” She pressed the notes into his palm.

  “Gray-bite," Sami said loudly again. "After all I've done for you." He lurched out of the restaurant.

  Laren, wearing a thoughtful expression on her face, returned to the table where Marleen waited impatiently.

  "Now what was that all about?" she demanded.

  "You were right. He’s been drinking."

  "So? I'm sure you've seen your brother drunk before."

  "Uh, you remember him."

  “Of course I do. Remembering trouble-makers is part of my job. What did he want?"

  "Nothing."

  "Nothing? He's got you wrapped."

  "He wanted money," Laren admitted.

  "I thought it was a touch. You didn't give him any."

  "Yes, I did."

  "Why? Only a fool gives a drunk money." Marleen reached across the table and patted Laren's hand. "You're free of him now. Don't you see that? You don't owe him anything anymore. All right?"

  Laren nodded uncertainly.

  After lunch Marleen had no objection to seeing the movie in the next pad. She chattered merrily about anything at all. Laren laughed and nodded as though she were interested without really hearing the conversation.

  Karra thought about the tall Nevian in a dark suit with blue trim. Maybe he was as fat as he was tall. He would hate the snow and cold. All of them did. And he would complain about it, even though he could compensate for the cold in his overheated apartment, never caring that more than a few froze to death in the Area each winter. Instead, his attention would be on his own small world of inconveniences. She heard them every day at the Palace, spoiled, indolent men who whined about finances, their wives, the cost of heat and Inner City taxes.

  At last she saw him standing beside the ticket window, ticket already in hand, his alien black eyes searching the crowd. He was tall, fit, and relatively attractive, if aliens could be called attractive. The line crept toward him. When she finally came within touching distance, she tripped over Marleen's heel and bumped into him.

  "Oh! I'm terribly sorry," Laren apologized to both Marleen and the Nevian.

  Marleen ignored her, still chatting about the funny antics of a man she had known.

  "I'm sorry," she repeated to the Nevian.

  "No," he said. "The fault was mine. I was in your way." Then he surprised her by bowing to her, formally.

  Laren returned the bow, just as formally, as gracefully as she could in the throng surrounding her, and murmured, "I really should have been more careful."

  "There was no harm done," he assured her. "Do you plan to see the movie?"

  "Yes."

  "In full Vitro-Vision, I suppose."

  "I don't take drugs," she replied. "I'll probably be the only sober one there."

  "Good. I mean, I was going to suggest you not take the booster, but it is really none of my business, is it?"

  "I would have accepted it as kind advice."

  At that point the Nevian smiled, an honest, friendly grin with no ulterior motive evident. Laren decided she liked his smile.

  Marleen tugged at her.

  "I think I should go in."

  “Perhaps I should also." But his words were more to himself as he glanced once more into the crowd.

  "Were you waiting for someone?"
/>
  "Yes, but I guess he has been delayed."

  Laren turned away from him and joined Marleen, her mind on the Nevian who had regarded her with interest, without undressing her first. Like Gradi.

  "Here." Marleen handed her a pill.

  "Thanks." She pocketed it. Too busy hunting for a good seat, Marleen never noticed.

  The seat was excellent; the movie was stupid. Without the drug, the movie had no plot, yet everyone around her laughed, cried, and breathed to the tempo of Vitro-Vision. It dragged unmercifully.

  When it was finally over, Laren helped her weeping friend to her feet and steered her out of the theater.

  "It was so beautiful! So beautiful," Marleen sobbed.

  "Sure. Sure. Will you watch where you're going?" Karra snapped, shoving her Laren persona out of the way.

  “Wasn't it beautiful?"

  "Yeah."

  Karra took a deep breath.

  Let Laren guide Marleen toward the airway. Laren has more patience, the beast reminded her.

  Karra nodded, wondering if Marleen noticed the nod and would wonder what it was for. But Marleen, like the rest of those in the theater, was still under the influence of the drug. Unable to hurry as quickly as Laren would have liked, she stumbled frequently.

  As Marleen stumbled again, an arm reached out to steady them.

  "Would you like me to escort you ladies home?" the owner of the arm offered.

  Laren found herself standing face to face with the tall Nevian. "If I could just get her on the airway, we could get home all right."

  "Of course."

  With Laren on one side and the Nevian on the other, they managed to get Marleen in the bubble.

  "Did you enjoy the movie?" he asked.

  "No." She balanced Marleen between herself and the membrane wall. "I wouldn't have gone except to keep my friend company."

  "I feel the same way," he agreed. "Except mine never arrived. Are you all set?"

  "Yes," she said with a formal nod as she touched the code. "Thank you."

  The Nevian inclined his head as the membrane closed around them. The barest hint of a smile graced his lips.