Resorted

Cycles Go ‘Round [Chapter 8]

Some people might say that working for a company like Cycles Go ‘Round would be exhausting, and they’d be completely right. I’d say, personally, that I’m glad I’m no longer dependent on my parents’ money or housing anymore. It’s all about perspective. For example, the stretch of twenty cycles straight of assignments might be seen as rough, but there’s a lot of downtime, too, between cold calls and other meet-ups. Then, after those twenty cycles, you get a full five cycles off to do whatever, with a few added on either side for travel. And with my last assignment just a jump away from a galaxy class resort, I was about to take every last moment for myself.

Veykey III was not terribly close to other major systems, but as a result, it often ended up as an extended shore leave for rich folks on a long cruise from wherever they had begun. The company ship under my control was perhaps a fraction of a percent as comfortable as a cruise liner, but at the very least, it was going to bring me to the resort for free.

“I’m signing off for the week, Grep,” I communicated to dispatch just before landing.

“Veykey III? I’m jealous, Anna.” He said back. “You’ll have to tell me if it lives up to the hype.”

“I’m certainly paying enough for the stay, even if it is the cheapest accommodation.”

“Well, have a good rest, at least. Hear you again in a few cycles.”

Everything was powered down, including my work tablet, and secured away nicely in the ship. All I needed was my bag of casual clothes, my book visor, and the readiness to forget about insurance sales for several cycles. After a painless check-in at the front desk of the resort’s hotel, I was taken up in a ground shuttle to bring me to my room.

Instead of strapping myself into a little pilot’s seat, the bed in my room was enough for someone twice my size to stretch out in. Instead of waking up to work calls and radiation warnings, the sun coming through the window gently urged me awake. Instead of synthiene and square blocks of food in sealed packages, I was only a single phone call away from having fresh delicacies and iced coffee delivered right to my room. And finally, instead of doing my business into a little… well, let’s not go into that much detail.

My first full day there began with breakfast served to me as if I were one of the rich folks also staying there. Feeling full and content on real food, I consulted with myself in the bathroom mirror. I came to the conclusion that I was desperately in need of UV rays to turn me back into a properly pigmented Terran.

Unlike other planets I had seen, Veykey III was no icy and chlorine-soaked rockscape. No, the planet’s oceans were H2O as they should be, in a liquid state, even, with a temperature high enough to swim in. The system’s sun having a consistent place in the sky throughout the year made that possible. But from the moment I saw the pool area from my balcony, its great collection of lounge chairs, and its readily-available bar, I knew where I was going to find myself for most of my stay.

It didn’t take further convincing to find myself in my swimsuit, on a lounge chair under the sun, book visor on, and a straw leading to a strong, fruity drink. This perfect storm of my own creation was enough to readily put me to sleep there by the poolside.

I don’t know how long I was out, but when you’re on vacation, who can really say if it’s for too long or too short a time? Remember what I said before about time not really meaning anything? Either way, it was a shrill scream that brought me back to the waking world. My book visor had gone to sleep on my face detecting my lack of eye movements and left me with a tinted view of the pool deck. In my cocktail-influenced grogginess, I figured the scream was simply some kid diving into the deep end. Then it hit me; first the warmth of my own skin and growing headache, then the realization that a resort like this was made with no children in mind.

The sun seared my eyes as I took off the visor. The arm I draped across my face as I sat up had turned a nice shade of red, leaving me vulnerable to accusations of being a Takoan. My legs, also burned nicely, wobbled as I stood up, ready to bring me back to my room. Unfortunately, the universe had other plans.

The other guests of the pool deck were all standing about, leaving the cool, inviting water empty, save for one poor soul. Submerged at the bottom, barely visible, was a dark blue figure, nearly blending into the shade of paint on the pool liner. From the body of the person came a thin line of red liquid, clouding the water around it. I jerked back, holding my mouth and shaking my head.

“Terrible thing, isn’t it?” An older guest beside me shook her head. “What could have happened?”

“Yeah, and not just ruining their own vacation,” I said lowly, thinking of my own limited days off and my skin desperately needing UV gel. I backed away without another word, looking for the pool entrance.

At the gate was a round green person in a suit that stood out even among the refined uniforms of the other resort employees. The lifeguard, a burly aquatic type, was with him, shaking his head, both of them blocking the exit.

“Excuse me,” I said waveringly, trying to find a space between them.

“Not now, miss,” the manager said, hiding his frustration under the guise of hospitality. “You’ll have to wait just a moment. How could this have happened?”

The lifeguard held his leathery-skinned head in his hands. “It was only a moment I was gone.”

“This is going to make our insurance rates go wild…” The manager huffed.

“You can say that again,” I mumbled, still waiting patiently.

The manager planted his hands on his wide waist and snapped at me. “What are you, some kind of insurance expert? No, I’m sorry miss, we currently aren’t allowing anyone to leave the pool area in the case this is… more than a simple accident.”

“Wonderful,” I sighed, looking down at my broiled stomach and legs. “Well, this little insurance expert needs to get out of the sun so I can deal with this so I’m not peeling the rest of my vacation.”

The green man finally turned fully my way, looking me up and down. “You say you are in the insurance business, then?”

My smart-ass, and likely some of the cocktail still in my system, took the reigns away from the common sense part of my brain. “Yes, and one who would rather not have skin cancer later in my life.”

The manager turned to the lifeguard, nodding. “Keep the gate closed. Little burned one, come with me.”

I was herded by his long arms to the lifeguard’s shack, just out of sight of the rest of the guests. “Uh, should this not be the job of the authorities? You have them on this planet, right?”

The manager stared into my eyes as if I were speaking a sub-sapient language then immediately went to a different topic. “I know insurance folks. I like them! The best, you know? They see things in different ways, the ways where things can go wrong, and the ways to make sure they don’t.”

“Well, yes, if something isn’t correct… certain accidents may not be covered by your policy. But my insurance deals with…”

The manager interrupted once again. “Listen now. If say… something does go wrong, insurance people are so good at finding out how and why.”

“Yes, I guess, so we can see if you were doing everything you were supposed to…” I said, the dots connecting.

He patted me on a burnt shoulder with a wide, padded hand. “Yes! Like that! Maybe this is because a bad person did a bad thing, but I do not think that is the case here. An accident! Whose fault? People do not think so well with vacation brains. Our fault? It should not be, we are very careful and safe. Maybe someone saw the accident. Let’s say I have you look around and talk with the other guests… to see when and what happened to the poor swimmer at the bottom of the pool? I’d… love to comp… at least a day of your stay with us.”

The offer rolled around in my mind. I tried to calculate the number of drinks or spa treatments or simply room service orders I could get by trading in the cost of one night. The only thing I could process, however, was the hot sun tearing at my skin and the lifeguard guarding the exit, likely until the situation was rectified. “No promises,” I decided upon those words, glaring at the manager.

The green man wagged an enthusiastic finger at me and followed up with a wink. “Just give us a plausible story we can use.”

Before I could give a fully-formed response, the manager ducked back out to the main deck, raising his hands up. “Listen, everyone! My wonderful guests! Of course, you want to leave the site of this accident behind, but we must make sure… everyone here is also… safe. Yes! So we must ask you all a little bit about what you saw here today. We have a… specialist…” he paused, urging me out with a wave of his pudgy hands. “To see if there was anything… particular about the events surrounding this accident.”

I glanced about at the other guests, most of them looking me up and down. Some rubbed at their arms, avoiding the sight of the body in the pool. Others studied the still hot sun passing overhead, or discontentedly fussed with their belongings. The manager was already on a portable phone, side by side with the lifeguard still blocking the gate. I took one last glance at the red cloud at the bottom of the pool and sighed, making my way to the least imposing guest.

My hand was on my brow to block out the sun as I looked up at the towering, lanky mammalian. “Hi, uhm, you’re pretty tall.”

He looked down at me with pursed lips. “I’m average for my species. Does that have something to do with this… investigation? You don’t look like any sort of specialist. More like a guest, just like the rest of us.”

“You’d think so,” I attempted to joke, unable to tell if it was received in the slightest. “So you didn’t see anything that might have led to that person falling into the pool here?”

The lanky man shrugged. “I just got here. Was busy scooting around the lounge chairs so I could put them end to end and have a place to stretch out for once.”

“Ah, well… I’m glad you could manage to sort out your accommodations.”

“Not like I’m going to be able to enjoy them now,” he declared with a sigh and a crossing of his arms.

“I’m sure it will be sorted out,” I said, stopping to wonder why I had drifted into my customer service mode. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, at least.”

The next people appeared to be a couple of a heavily furred species, sitting close together with hands nervously entwined. “Hi there—“

“Uhm, hi,” the female of the pair said intently. “You’re asking people questions? Can I ask you one first?”

“Honey, no,” the man rebutted quietly near her ear.

“I mean, maybe…” I said back.

“What… species are you?”

“You can’t just ask people that, babe.”

“Shush, you wanted to know as well.”

“Well—“

“I’m Terran,” I interrupted.

“Oh, well, of course, that’s what I thought,” the female nodded. “I’ve seen a few of you, but never one of you… of that color.”

“Honey!”

“Ah, well, exposure to certain things can cause this… coloration,” I said, tugging on the strap of my top to move it away from the burned skin. “May I… ask you about what you might have seen?”

“Did…” the female leaned in, whispering “…someone kill them? Drop them down in the pool?”

“Officially, this was an accident,” I said proudly, wondering why I was backing up the good-for-nothing manager. I glanced back to him briefly, thinking only to the comped night promised to me. “Is there anything you may have noticed that might have caused an accident here? Perhaps something that could cause a slip or fall?”

The male nodded emphatically. “The drinks… over at the bar there… pretty strong.”

I swallowed hard, the taste of old alcohol sitting at the back of my throat. “Oh, I agree with you there.”

The nodding continued slower, followed by a head tilt in the direction of the female. “She had one of her own, and then some of mine.”

“They were super tasty!”

“And now she’s… well, maybe the bar doesn’t know how to balance their drinks for other species.”

I stood up straight and sighed. “That could definitely be a problem. Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Well, thank you for your cooperation.”

Following the first thing that could be considered a lead, I headed towards the poolside bar. The shade curtain above the seats was the first relief I had felt since waking up. The stool beneath me creaked as I sat down to clear my head and wait for the bartender to show herself.

“Sorry, we’re not serving drinks right now, manager’s orders.” The woman’s voice came first, followed by the dark, ridge-faced employee rounding the door from the back room.

“No, uh, I…”

“Oh dear, you look like you need some water, maybe.”

Before I could answer my true intentions, my dehydration called itself to attention. I licked my lips as the icy cold drink was poured for me, readily collecting moisture from the air. I snatched it up and drank until my breath gave out, then slapped down the glass, half full at that point. “Oh, universe, I needed that. No, uh, I have a question for you.”

“I might have an answer,” the bartender smirked, rubbing down another glass with a hand towel.

“You saw the poor person down at the bottom of the pool?”

“Yeah, a shame,” she shrugged.

“Did you serve them anything?”

“No, and I’ve been here since we opened with the pool. Hold on, why are you interested?”

“I’ve been… asked to do a little bit of an investigation.”

The bartender balked at me through squinted eyes. “You’re a guest, though? Yeah, I remember taking your order. What exactly is going on? Wait, did the manager…”

“That’s okay, really,” I held up my hand to stop her. “I’m just really bad at saying no to people.”

“Knowing him, he probably didn’t give you a chance to,” she said lowly, moving in closer to me. “If you’re out here again during your stay, I can make it up with some free drinks.”

I stared at the water glass and my beet-colored reflection barely visible in the condensation. “Thank you, but today might be the only day I can suffer the sun.”

“I don’t blame you.”

I sighed, ready to pull myself away from the shade and ice water. “Well, more people to talk to. Cheers!”

On my way back to the other guests impatiently wasting away on their comfy lounge chairs, I inspected the pool deck for anything that could have been an unchecked safety hazard. My eyes traced the cracks in the tiles, looking for any spots where tripping and falling could have occurred, any uncleaned messes that could have been slipped on. The depth markers were all present and clear, both ends of the pool at a respectable level. A ‘no running’ sign was posted by in several places and in several languages, including beside the lifeguard tower, located in a sensible position.

I decided to take on the most frustrated-looking person while my patience and cool was still intact. The humanoid appeared middle age, with too-tight swim trunks for his pudgy body. He reminded me of the boss that interviewed and hired for Cycles Go ‘Round, likely just as patient too. He seemed intent on making himself the least comfortable as possible, regardless of how long he was going to wait, possibly in a way to protest the whole situation.

He spoke first as I approached him. “I was wondering when you were going to come my way. I know what you’re doing.”

I paused, keeping more distance than originally intended. “I, uh, just have a question.”

“Sure you do. I didn’t see anything. You know why?”

“Are you blind?” I blurted out.

The pudgy one stomped his foot. “No! How could I have seen you waltzing up here if I were blind? I saw nothing because none of this makes sense. This is a training exercise, and they’re forcing us guests to be a part of it. Except you, you’re some… insider, huh? Go tell your boss that I want this previously nice day of mine to be on him.”

“Sir, I think you’ve got this all—“

“All wrong? If that’s the case, then why is the ‘victim’ getting out of the pool right now?” He huffed with a jab of his finger.

I jerked back, thinking halfway through that I had allowed myself to be fooled. Instead, the blue, possibly bleeding, guest was marching up the stairs of the pool, making a direct line for the gate.

“Oh no, oh no,” I heard her fussing, gills flapping at her sides. “I’m so sorry, I fell asleep and… my spawn started. Oh dear, I must get back to my room.”

I went to confront the manager and the lifeguard after she had been allowed to depart through the gate. “You didn’t check to see if she was alive down there?” The manager was fuming and tearing the lifeguard a new set of breathing holes. “You should have known better!”

“It is entirely my fault, sir!” The shamed lifeguard said, head bowed.

“That’s right, and you’ll be helping the cleaning crew drain and rinse the pool down!”

I cleared my throat. “So… I’ll let you know that I still expect to have tonight taken off my bill.”

Back in my room, I was finally able to face and take care of my singed skin. Across my face, exactly where the book visor had laid, was a perfect clear bar where, at least, I was still my pale self. No more UV exposure on this trip.

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