Simple

Cycles Go ‘Round [Chapter 5]

“This one’s a bit of a high-maintenance client, Anna,” Grep explained to me as I was en route, diverted from my much-desired pit stop. “I’m sorry to hand this off to a rookie like you, but the agent that usually handles her account is halfway across the galaxy.”

“I assume they already know how we operate, right, if they’ve dealt with us before? I can handle it. I just need to go by the book, right?”

“Of course. But that’s not what I’m worried about. My only advice perhaps… not to judge.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve put any notions like that behind me.”

The coordinates led me to a station in a sector I had never heard of. After a half hexaturn or so in warp, I tracked the meeting point to a location in deep space, the gleam from the nearest star a couple light-years off.

The station itself didn’t seem too special, just a boxy depot with a flight deck, a communications relay, and a few merchants with a hundred or so other permanent residents to keep the place running. My directions from dispatch were only to let the client find me. I sent out a generic company blurb on the commercial channel, adding another message to the rotating verbal spew that was somehow still choked, despite the desolate locale.

I was just about to dock on the flight deck when the contact was initiated to my personal frequency. “Is this Cycles Go ’Round?” A feminine voice asked.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I don’t recognize that voice,” came the response with a slight curiosity to it.

“I’m, uh… Anna. Your regular agent couldn’t make it this time. I’ll be able to help you if you could direct me to the location of your craft.”

“Don’t you dare dock on that nasty station.”

“Oh,” I said, adjusting my controls to pull me out of my slow trajectory. “I shall not. May I ask what class craft you are aboard, then?”

“I see you, Uh Anna, stay put.”

I leaned down around my flight readouts and through the front window. A fancy craft of yacht-class specification was making a sharp turn around the space station, lining the landing bay on its bow with my craft. I could do little but hold on as their tractor beams pulled me about, reintroducing me to their particular flavor of gravity. Sensing what could be called ground, my ship pushed out its landing gear, planting me right in the belly of the luxurious vessel.

Just outside on the ground, I was welcomed by a sight I can’t say I was expecting. I knew I blinked several times and scanned the crewman up and down to look for any other peculiarities, but there were indeed none to find.

“A Terran?” I asked, looking straight into the eyes of my kin.

The man, a stubble-bearing, shaved-head figure of unremarkable build nodded emphatically. “The Missus said that the person coming to see her sounded like she had a Terran name, so she offered to have me come and greet you. And like always, she was right on the money.”

“Well,” I nodded. “Not many of us out this far, are there?”

His furious nodding continued, “Different strokes for different folks, haha.”

I nodded and exchanged a forced smile or two with the man before daring to speak of business. “Well, uh… the Missus… as you said… she is your boss?”

“No, no, no, not my boss. But I will take you to see her,” He said, jerking around. “We will go. You have all that you need? The elevator is this way. Come, come.”

I had trouble keeping up with the man’s pace to the back of the dock. Apart from my own, I couldn’t help but notice that there were no other craft, despite the size of the space, but I certainly didn’t have time to question it.

The windowed doors of the lift brought us past multiple levels of consistently growing extravagance. Past what seemed to be extra rooms were floors of bright lights, saturated colors, and intricate fixtures. Despite the sights flashing past my face, I was more distracted by the foot tapping and fixated look upward by the fellow Terran.

“Is the Missus on a schedule? I am sorry if I am a bit—“

“No!” He exclaimed. “No, no, there is all the time in the galaxy.”

“I see. And I can only imagine that she is pleasant,” I said, hoping to pull some truth out of him.

“Yes, yes, she is perfect!” He said, huffing, foot still tapping.

I wrung my hands together, preparing myself for whatever person I was soon going to meet, and hopefully not judge. “Would it be better for me if I called her… Missus, or… my records say… Amberine?”

“She goes by Missus,” the Terran swallowed hard, fingertips touching the smooth surface of the lift door where he had poised himself. “Here we are.”

Beyond the smoothly sliding doors was a long chamber, leading to a wide window that seemed to serve also as the ship’s main bridge. The chamber itself had no furniture to speak of and instead was decorated by standing figures, all of the male form, lining the way up to the one I assumed to be the client.

The Terran rushed up to her, a tall, dark figure. He found his way onto his knees, bowed before her. I could hear a murmur of words before he stood back up, prancing back to an open spot in the lineup of other males. Avoiding the urge to look to my sides, I approached, meeting the client near her side of the chamber. “I, have, uhm, arrived.”

“And welcome to you, Anna,” Amberine said, arms wide and welcoming. She towered over me, tanned-dark skin that was almost like scales or leather, with no hair to speak of, but with eyes like pools of liquid chlorine. Her long, dark dress gave me the impression that she was floating, drawing my eyes hopelessly up and down several times. “My communications with your home office tell me that this isn’t your normal duty, so I won’t take up too much of your time. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a collector.”

“Is that so?” I said, neck straining to look up at her.

“Yes. My collection is very important to me. I have worked with Cycles Go ’Round for a good deal of time now to make sure that the bits of my collection are protected. And I’ve just gotten my hands on not one, but two, more pieces.”

“How nice. We will have them covered for you,” I said, double-checking my tablet for the necessary steps. “I assume you’ve obtained the proper appraisal forms? And, of course, I’d need to see the subjects to make sure they are in your care.”

“No trouble. In fact, you’ve already met one,” Amberine said with a clap of her hands.

“Met?”

“Traipse? Trott?” She called out. I glanced back to see two of the males exiting the lineup, including the Terran from before. Holding my breath, I looked back up at the client.

“Can I… make sure of one thing?”

“Go ahead.”

“Cycles Go ’Round is not in the business of life insurance, I’m sure you know.”

Amberine nodded, arms tucked behind her back, glancing at the two men as they joined either side of me. “They are property. Think of them as such. The deal with your company allows me to be reimbursed if they should expire.”

I attempted to scroll through the open pages on my tablet screen before my unsubstantiated thoughts got the better of me. “You’re aware that slavery is banned in over 3,000 systems?”

The client slumped her broad shoulders and waved a finger in the air. “I must have a chat here. You are all dismissed.”

The reaction to the simple command was like a bus full of primary learners had been told that the ice cream machine of the service restaurant they had stopped at was out of order. The males ran forward, folding against themselves on the ground before Amberine’s feet, crying and cawing in all manner of abasement.

“Do not make us!”

“You cannot deny us your presence!”

“It is a punishment? It is a punishment!”

“The light from the sky has disappeared!”

With a sole click from the client’s fingers, the males stood and scattered, exiting through the lift or one of the various side doors.

When the last hint of wailing had disappeared from the bridge, she spoke up again. “You can see very well that they are no slaves. They have all agreed to be my property. As simple as that.”

“Is… this some sort of sex thing?”

Amberine folded her arms across her chest, lithe and petite. She looked me up and down. I shook my head suddenly, slapping myself across the face with my free hand. “I’m terribly sorry, I’m not sure what I was thinking. I was sent with the appropriate form here to fill out.”

The client relaxed herself and shuffled back to look out the front window. “Not all species are as sex-motivated as Terrans.”

“Oh yes, I know what you mean. I mean, historically, yes, if you look into that. Really, I’m one to talk, me, working this job out in the middle of nowhere most times. I haven’t seen, let alone interacted, with another Terran apart from that Trott guy for like… I don’t know how long. I don’t really know my prospects with other species either, you know, it can be… weird. And to say I’m motivated by any sort of thing like that… I’m really just motivated right now by moving up the corporate ladder, you know, getting a nicer ship, some vacations, a proper retirement, of course. If you really look back, there was this low point in our history where people absolutely were motivated by working long hours and not really getting married or having offspring… do you understand what it means to be married… not all kinds have those sorts of traditions.”

Before I could vomit out more words, I felt a long but soft finger under my chin, pulling my eyes up to the face of their owner. “Anna, was it? I take it you don’t have particularly high regard for yourself. How would you ever find yourself a mate when you carry yourself like this? Would you like some tips?”

I pulled myself back, heart fluttering in a way I had not felt before. “I… uh… I think that my code of ethics… working for Cycles Go ’Round… would have me decline such a kind offer.”

Amberine’s face turned a shade of pleasant, perhaps elated, with my words, and she pulled back, hand to her lips. “Well, that’s quite fine, in fact. The fact of the matter is that my kind does not… reproduce in a way that is compatible with any individual of any other.”

“Is that so?” I asked, imagination running wild with her words. “Can I ask something, maybe a little bit bluntly?”

Amberine nodded hopefully. “Getting any sort of bluntness or boldness from my flock is rare, if possible at all. I welcome yours as a unique amusement.”

“It’s just that… I had this thought that the reason you were getting insurance out on the males here on your ship was that it was some wild mating act that was… damaging them or something. But… I guess I’m just glad that they’re safe and… I suppose you want to look out for them. I just kind of wonder… if you don’t mind answering… how they find their way here. To join your crew— flock?”

The client sauntered back around, moving in a zigzag pattern about the wide chamber. “They just seem to… sense my presence during my outings on various planets or stations.”

“Does your flock come with you on these outings?”

“Of course, how could I deny them my presence for so long? But others seek me out nonetheless. If I judge them worthy, they may join me as well.”

“They must have to meet some rigid requirements.” I pondered aloud, glancing about the fancy cockpit.

“Only that they wish to escape conditions where they find themselves withering away. I take in those who typically have no worth in their surroundings. It is those types who I find to be the most worthy of my presence.”

“You could almost call that a noble cause, Amberine.”

“I can promise you, the pleasure is all mine. And when my flock is full enough, I can extract all the goodness from them in order to feed my well-being.”

“I see. Well, I don’t want to keep you longer than necessary with all these questions. Tell me the names, again, for your… new properties that I will be adding to your policy.”

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