This is the 2nd edition of my short story "This Woman's Work". I apologize for any remaining inconsistencies that I missed (I'm sure I have such as physical descriptions, changing names, and certain facts). I will fix it in a third edit. It would help if some would help critique this for me and address those critiques in the comment section below. Thank you and enjoy! (This is about 27,171 words)
If effort alone could save her Magdalene wouldn’t have had to use the contents in the small pouch but every time she looked at her older lover she could feel a large lump in her throat activating her gag reflex and her skin would begin to crawl. With a deep breath Magdalene poured the powder into the wine. Then she took a drink. The stuff gave the wine an oaky taste to it. Now… time to go to work.
* * * * *
Magdalene made sure the leather bonds were good and tight.
“How does that feel, Viceroy?” Magdalene purred. Her lover’s wrists and ankles were strapped to the stately bed and he was blindfolded. He looked like a pig ready to be butchered. Viceroy Seneca was one of the most influential statesman of the Athena Belt.
“Feels very good, Mistress,” Viceroy Victor Seneca nodded. His face was bright and full of excitement. Magdalene smiled.
Viceroy Seneca's skin was saggy and a bit leathery feeling coarse against Magdalene's smooth gleaming ebony skin. She could have done worse in a patron. At least the Viceroy was into bondage and other things… But Magdalene knew she had other work to do. Seneca was growing impatient for their session to continue. Magdalene just let the man lay there tied to his stately bed.
“Is this one of your games?” the old man groaned half annoyed half aroused. “Making me wait for the next lesson?” Perhaps he was beaten too much as a child? Either way Magdalene spoke in an authoritative tone, “Maybe…” Magdalene climbed on top of the Viceroy’s bulging belly like a jungle cat getting ready to pounce. “I just want to make sure you’re going to vote yes on keeping the courtesan system going.”
“Politics?” Seneca grumbled, some of his arousal dissolving. “Do we have to talk about this now?” Magdalene ripped off Seneca’s blindfold searing a hole in him with her smoldering eyes.
"I just wanted to make sure that you were still an ally of Hedone,” Magdalene hissed.
Seneca was entranced again trying to kiss Magdalene but she pulled back and grabbed his face making him pay attention. His lips puckered and eyes grew wide reminding Magdalene of a salmon caught in a hook.
"I know what’s been happening in the stations. How they’re falling apart,” Magdalene's voice became somber, dropping her teasing act. The fun drained from Seneca’s face. “Since the planet Europa is going to be available for colonization, people will be wondering if there will even be a need to keep the courtesan system at all. Pioneer brides and all that. Even if you do abolish it, people will think it was The Earth Confederation bowing to pressure from Legion.” Legion was a nasty terrorist cell though they claimed to be protestors fighting for human rights.
Seneca finally answered, “The EC is more pragmatic than people think. But as long as I’m alive you won’t have to worry about your Matron’s house on Zagreus.” Magdalene looked her lover up and down, her mind calculating. After a moment or two she smiled. Magdalene poured some wine then presented it to the Viceroy. Just when Seneca thought he was about to enjoy some of his best wine Magdalene pulled the drink away then took a sip herself, mocking him with her dark eyes.
“You torture me,” Seneca moaned.
“You know you have to beg for it,” Magdalene purred.
“Please, Mistress, may I have some wine?” Seneca pleaded. Magdalene pretended to think it over. She poured some of the wine over Seneca’s mouth and watched him lap it up like a dog. It was moments like this that Magdalene actually found Seneca attractive. He was a willing lap dog. She kissed him fully on the lips… tasting an odd metallic flavor. Then the Viceroy suddenly began to cough up blood and convulse.
Magdalene panicked, “Victor? Victor!” The Viceroy could only watch helplessly as he made wet gargling sounds then lay still. Suddenly Magdalene’s nose started bleeding.
“Poison…,” Magdalene fell and everything went black. The soldiers found her lovely body sprawled on top of the restrained Viceroy’s fat belly. An hysterical sight if not horrific.
* * * * *
Euphemia had her time as one of the greatest courtesans of The Athena Belt. She had long wavy red hair like fire and piercing blue eyes as blue as a spring and as sharp as her wit. Now she was a Matron teaching other girls in the erotic art of seduction. The downtrodden women of the Athena Belt thrived on the industry. The highest of society would come to Zagreus to buy the services of her courtesans. In a society where little option is left for the daughters of the poor, becoming a courtesan was the best way for a woman to enter the highest ranks of society; to be independent and even support their families. Now that lively hood was being threatened…
Europa was almost done being terraformed and the government decided to put all available women to another use: childbearing. Viceroy Seneca's death, their only champion with the forceful personality and enough respect of the Senate to keep them open was dead and Euphemia’s best girl was being held in prison. Magdalene was like a daughter to her. She suspected someone from Legion behind it. No one gained more from Victor Seneca's death than them. Legion wanted to abolish to oppressive caste system, end the sterilization laws and penalties, and destroy the courtesan system calling it a model of slavery.
Euphemia stared out the window at her students as they sat in a circle around one girl who read to them. The House of Hedone was once a glorious house that over saw over 2,000 trainees. Many famous courtesans graduated from this palace on this ice moon. This moon that provided water for the whole of the Belt. Now the school barely functioned with only 30 or so students. Euphemia felt her breast. It felt tender to the touch. She sat down at her vanity mirror and took out a red painted box with a white flower painted on the top. She looked around to see if anyone was watching. Dex was in the bathroom. Euphemia opened the box and there were 4 syringes filled with medicine. She took out one then stuck it into her arm. The medicine took a while to work. Soon after Euphemia took out a small silver bag and sprinkled the contents into her Zagrean scotch. The scotch was made from the wheat produced in the agri-stations under the Zagrean dome that housed 10,000 residents. But the taste was much more sweet because of the ice turned water to make it. Because of water and food rations any form of alcohol was rare and expensive. The bottle was a gift from a former patron.
“A bit early for that isn’t it?” Dex said. He wasn’t being judgmental. Dex himself had often partook in alcohol before noon. Sometimes starting from 5 PM then ending at 3 AM when he passed out.
“Given what we’re dealing with I’d say it’s required,” Euphemia sipped her scotch with a wink.
Being that Euphemia was a retired courtesan now she could choose whom ever she liked to share her bed. Dex Ransom was in his early 30s with rust colored hair and cool gunmetal eyes. Those eyes. A girl could get lost in those haunted depths. Some would mock that Euphemia was 25 years Dex’s senior but she never gave a damn about anyone's opinion other than her own. Dex was also an erotic instructor at the school. An instructor helped the students learn how to please a man. Starting from when they’re 18 it was an instructor’s job to show courtesan in training how best to please a patron. It was all supervised of course and great care was taken to make sure a girl never conceived before her graduation at age 20 when that would no longer be an issue. Yet Dex was mostly for Euphemia. He stood at a distance by the window watching her.
"Just thinking up strategy," Euphemia sighed. Dex noticed the empty syringe and the silver bag. He sighed, “How long are you going to be able to hide your illness.”
“Don’t worry about my illness,” Euphemia bitterly replied.
Feeling choked by her own fine garments she let loose the strings of her silk black robe to reveal her gossamer night gown, her brown nipples clearly visible through the sheer fabric. "Seneca's death has been a horrible blow. And now his successor is coming to investigate us while he redecorates the Viceroy’s office.” Euphemia searched in her desk for that special powder that helped make her pain go away.
“To see if you had anything to do with it,” Dex figured. “They’re saying Magdalene was a Legion assassin working for Djinn.” Djinn was the elusive leader of the organization that The EC had failed to capture for years. He would put on a mask and address the people in a distorted voice with his manifesto of human rights and the need to demolish the oppressive caste system.
“Ridiculous,” Euphemia scoffed. "Though it wouldn't be the first time our glorious house came under siege."
"Shall I fortify our castle's defense," Dex was half joking.
"No, my darling," Euphemia sighed. "This is a woman's war and it will be fought with a woman's weapons."
Euphemia began applying make up to her time worn face. She mourned the loss of her youthful looks. Her once naturally rosy cheeks had faded, her lustrous gleaming hair now dull with age and her porcelain skin was showing some signs of cracking and a bit of sagging.
"And what kind of weapons do women have?" Dex asked as he stared out the window. His eyes looking into the garden as if wishing he could jump from the window and frolic among the plant life instead of being locked up here.
"Beauty for one," Euphemia explained as she took out her ivory bone jewel encrusted comb that was a gift from one of her first patrons, "her charm and most importantly that special place between her thighs." Euphemia noticed Dex’s longing looks out the window from her mirror. She narrowed her eyes but continued her beauty routine.
“How can you be so sure Julian Sulla will fall for your charms,” warned Dex his attention returned to his more mature lover.
“Not my charms,” Euphemia stood up. “All men can be bought. Virtue is a lovely mask but underneath all men are perverted egotists, especially politicians." However, Euphemia was curious as to what Dex knew about the new Viceroy of Zagreus. “What do you know of this man?” Dex wasn’t her lover just for his looks. He was also a talented spy and soldier. He was a veteran of the army. Dex had a hardness in his eyes, a darkness that he could not escape no matter how hard he tried. He never talked about his time in the military. Sometimes he would wake screaming in the night drenched in a cold sweat and eyes wild. It stopped for a while but lately the Dex had gotten bags under his eyes. Lack of sleep. He wouldn’t say what caused his restless nights.
Dex turned away from the window and made his way to Euphemia, “Late 30s which is young for his position.”
“And very handsome,” Euphemia pulled up an image on her mirror that also acted as a comm link and server.
“To some people…,” Dex miffed. “To most he projects an air of dignity, charisma. He has a reputation for being ruthless when needed and for being merciful when it’s convenient. He takes the jobs that no one else wants and he’s been promoted because he’s been successful in those jobs.”
“He sounds interesting,” Euphemia chimed.
“Interesting people are often the most dangerous,” Dex cautioned.
“I’ve met far more interesting people but I’m still alive,” Euphemia sobered. The game was already in motion. Viceroy Julian Sulla would be the shield that keeps Hedone a float and if not.
“I have things I need to do,” Dex excused himself.
“What sort of things?” Euphemia turned around in her chair, eyeing him suspiciously though she already had an idea.
“If you want this place to be ready then I can’t protect it from in here…”
Euphemia got up to say something but she faltered. Dex was quick to help her up after her fall.
“It’s the medicine,” Dex reasoned. “I don’t know if it’s making you better or worse.”
“It’ll work as well as I need it to,” Euphemia took deep breaths to steady her heart beat. “I just need to rest.”
Dex helped Euphemia to the bed. He looked up at the clock anxiously. Euphemia grabbed his arm and pleaded, “Can you stay with me a little while?”
Dex glanced at the time on Euphemia’s vanity mirror. There was an important place he needed to be. But he couldn’t say it out right.
“Sure…” he nodded. Dex hoped this wouldn’t make him completely late…
* * * * *
Julian Sulla took his own private tour of the gardens of Hedone. Besides it’s beautiful students, the school boasted the most exotic flora from Old Earth. It was like walking through time. 1,000 years ago many humans left Earth (known as the Exodus) to colonize a new solar system after an event known only as the Cataclysm that destroyed most of life on Earth. They searched their own galaxy and found a habitable planet that could support human life but it would take time to make the planet habitable for a new civilization. While Europa was being terraformed mining stations were built in the asteroids that encircled this tiny solar system with its one planet revolving around a single star that they called The Athena Belt. Zagreus was an ice moon that provided water for the whole system, but not big enough for a growing population that despite fertility restrictions and law enforcing sterilizations still managed to grow every new generation. And the 4 mining stations despite their constant repair continue to break down. Already there were air leaks happening in Leto and Vesta. People suffering from carbon dioxide poisoning.
Sulla came to a more secluded part of the gardens. A grotto that reminded him of the Romantic paintings depicting Greek nymphs and gods who liked to have trysts in the reeds. Sulla heard a splash. He looked to see giant ripples in the water. He didn’t know why he hid but he went behind a tree peeking out to see what had made the splash. It was most likely a fish. Sulla held his breath and waited. Then he saw her. A young woman with long dark hair, skin like porcelain rising out of the surface. Her back was to him though a small part of him was silently begging for her to turn around.
Sulla forgot to breathe. The woman leaned back, her body submerged but her head still visible looking up at the azure ceiling in a contemplative manner. She couldn’t have been more than 22-23 years old. Then he saw her face. A face round and delicately pale like the rest of her. Big doe eyes that were like two shining emeralds. Her lips were dark and reddish. They were plump in a way that made Sulla want to bite and taste them. What did they taste like? Before he could wonder any longer his communicator crackled and a voice called, “Viceroy? Viceroy, sir?” Sulla went to silence the radio but too late she saw him. Her white cheeks flushed with color.
“You pervert!” she cried out, suddenly aware of her nakedness she covered her breasts though they were submerged in the sapphire water. “How dare you!”
“My sincere apologies,” Sulla stepped out of hiding and straightened himself up. “You caught me off guard.”
“I caught you off guard?” the nymph cried incredulously.
“You’re right,” Sulla sighed. “I didn’t think anyone else was—”
“Turn around,” she ordered. Sulla with eyes cast down quickly obeyed. He heard her soft splashing as she climbed out of the pool. The thrill of the temptation to turn around and look at her in her natural form made his heart race. Many of the upper caste had exotic fetishes but Julian Sulla’s tastes ran more simple. He got an erotic thrill from watching women dress and undress. However, he preferred it if the woman knew of his presence. He wasn’t a peeping Tom.
“You may look now,” the woman allowed more calmly. Sulla obliged. Seeing her fully out of the water he could see that she was human.
“No fish tail or scales I see,” Sulla attempted humor. The woman only stared at him with indignation.
“You must be a goddess then,” Sulla recovered some of his confidence.
“If that’s true then maybe I should turn you into a deer and let your own hunting dogs tear you to pieces,” the woman remarked. The courtesans of Hedone were well educated in all mythologies of old Earth. Greek mythology was a particular favorite. This made the woman more attractive in Sulla’s eyes.
“I hope you can find it in your heart to be merciful,” Sulla tried to negotiate in mock fear.
The woman tilted her head looking her intruder over trying to discern if he was genuine or a liar then with caution said, “Maybe I can let this slide since you’re the new Viceroy of Zagreus.”
Sulla chuckled, the tension in the air relaxing. “So you know who I am,” Sulla said.
“I recognize you from the news feeds. Lady Euphemia said we would get a visit from you too,” the woman smiled. “It’s a good thing you’re a politician and not a spy. You wouldn’t last long.”
“No I suppose not,” Sulla said. “I would surely be sterilized or even fertilized in the agri-stations for treason.”
“I think I would pardon you,” winked the woman. She was becoming more at ease now knowing there was nothing to fear.
“Then I would be in your debt, fair lady,” Sulla bowed. The lady chuckled. “Let’s start over. I’m Viceroy Julian Sulla and you are…”
“Constance.”
Constance. He liked the name. Constance took a moment to admire this new Viceroy's handsome features. Tall with great posture, bright blue eyes, perfectly combed dark hair and a sparkling smile. Very neat and organized in appearance. Good looking in his dark military uniform that all Viceroys wore with shiny golden buttons and medals. But he wore black gloves. In pictures he wore them all the time. Many knew the reason but no one would dare say it in his presence.
“I had heard that you would be coming but I was hoping I would be fully clothed when we met,” Constance chuckled still ashamed of her appearance. “And dry…”
“Either way I believe you have made an impression on me,” said Sulla looking Constance over. She had a string of obsidian prayer beads wrapped around her wrist. She rubbed some of them between her fingers. She was a practitioner of Ashoka, the non-violent types that were reminiscent of Buddhists.
“It was a real shock to hear what happened to Seneca,” Constance said as she went to dry her hair with her long sari.
"He will surely be missed," Sulla mourned. "I admired him greatly he was good mentor."
"Yes you have some pretty big shoes to fill," Constance agreed.
“Shall I walk you back?” Sulla offered. He hoped she’d say yes.
Constance pondered a bit. Then nodded, “We should keep a distance though. Rules are that courtesans in training aren’t allowed to go anywhere without a chaperone.”
“And yet here you are,” Sulla admired. “Flouting house rules.”
Constance shrugged and joked, “I’m a rebel.”
Sulla and Constance began walking the path back to the main house keeping a safe distance from each other.
"How long have you been a student here, Miss Constance?” Sulla began.
"Since I was 11,” Constance explained. “I was born in the slums of Zagreus and sold after my parents had a 3rd child.” To prevent over population the lower caste had a 2 child minimum. Those who broke it would give up their first child to the state where that child would help provide for their family. Many poor families blatantly broke that law in order to keep from going hungry.
“That’s awful,” Sulla grew sympathetic.
“Why?”
“To be sold into a life of servitude at such a young age.”
“I used to see it that way,” Constance said. “But it’s the best way I can support my family.” Sulla wasn’t so sure. He was called a cynic or a pessimist but he never believed in the light side of anything.
“You Ashoka really are easy going aren’t you? Almost indifferent,” Sulla pointed out. Constance’s emerald eyes became clouded. She grew quiet.
“I’ve upset you,” Sulla apologized.
“No, no, I understand,” Constance spoke quickly. “You must be of the Covenant Church.” The Covenant Church was a combination of all 3 monotheistic religions of Old Earth. The Covenant Church and the religion of the Ashoka both thrived on Zagreus unfortunately so did tension between the 2 faiths.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you all prefer it if everyone whips and scourges themselves every time they even had an evil thought,” Constance stopped and faced Sulla who listened intently. “But what’s the point of that? People blame angry gods for all the problems in the world when really everyone is suffering and they see no way out but to commit acts of evil. I understand why they do evil things but there are more peaceful solutions to making a living.”
“Such as becoming a courtesan?” Sulla scratched his chin.
“What harm is there in giving someone else pleasure?” Constance smiled. “The world would be a much better place if people stop punishing themselves so harshly or even judging others for not believing in what they believe.”
Sulla stood quietly for a moment. Constance began to think that she had offended him but he smiled and said, “You have quite a passion. I like that in a woman.” Constance’s cheeks grew red. She lowered her eyes a bit embarrassed by her outburst, “I didn’t mean to imply that you—“
“No need to apologize,” Sulla held up his hand. “I’m not a very religious person but I’ve always admired the Ashoka unlike those of the Covenant Church.” They arrived outside the mansion.
“Thank you for escorting me, Viceroy,” Constance gave a short nod.
“Will I see more of you, Miss Constance?” Sulla couldn’t hide the hope in his voice. Constance gave him a sly smile.
“Maybe… if you’re lucky,” she turned on her heel and left Sulla watching after her. He wanted her to stay but he didn't want to seem over eager. Sulla would make sure that he saw Constance again.
* * * * *
Constance's heart was racing. The look Sulla gave her. His eyes were hungry for her she could see and feel that. Just as she was about to make her way to her room she felt someone grab her roughly into a dark enclave behind a tapestry of Rama and Sita, the great lovers of Hindu myth. Her attacker pressed their lips against hers muffling any protests. Constance recognized the smell of cinnamon and leather.
“Dex!” she finally broke free from her attacker's lips to cry in indignation.
"Did I scare you? Sorry," It wasn’t so dark that Constance couldn’t see Dex’s mischievous eyes and rogue grin. Dex leaned in for a second kiss but Constance slapped him.
"No, you're not," she fumed. "You should know better than to sneak up on people like that! And what if someone saw us?”
Dex felt the sting from Constance's slap. Sometimes her bite was worse than her bark. “That’s why we’re behind a tapestry,” he explained matter-of-factly. Constance went to leave but Dex stopped her. Despite her scrappiness, Constance was still physically weaker than Dex.
"I saw that you met the new Viceroy," Dex accused, bright eyes now dim with annoyance and grip somewhat tighter.
"Careful, Dex,” Constance warned haughtily, "you sound jealous."
Courtesans didn’t have to be virgins. How else would they keep a patron but when a courtesan’s instructor was a man sometimes it got… complicated. Dex and Constance were more complicated than most.
"I am jealous,” Dex admitted.
“I waited for you at the grotto but you didn’t come,” Constance explained indignantly.
“I was tied up.”
“In Euphemia’s thighs you mean,” Constance retorted.
“It wasn’t like that,” Dex defended.
“Then what was it like?”
Dex would get this disgruntled look and furrowed brow whenever he wanted to tell her something but he couldn’t. Constance could also see the bags under his eyes. He was having trouble sleeping again.
Dex pressed his body against Constance to further prevent her escape but by now she didn’t want to. Breathing in his hot breath she wanted more of him inside her.
“Now who’s sounding jealous,” Dex grinned. Their foreheads touched and they shared one breath. Dex kissed Constance again this time she gave in. The heat of his kiss overwhelming even her common sense. Constance allowed Dex’s tongue to pass her lips this time. Dex released her mouth but lingered closely to breathe in her scent of lavender. “Perhaps I can make it up to you,” Dex slipped his hand beneath Constance’s damp sari and touched her.
“Dex—“ Constance gasped as she felt his fingers work their way inside her. She bit her lip, suppressing her moans of pleasure.
The rest was a blur of sweat and panting in tangled sheets. Dex and Constance lay in his bed in his small quarters. Constance laid on her side wrapped in the cool somewhat moist sheets her mind racing. Her hair was a tangled mess from the water and then the beads of sweat but it curled nicely making her seem more erotic to Dex.
“I shouldn’t be here,” she said with regret. “This is the last time.” Dex came from behind her and encircled her in his strong embrace then gave her a lingering kiss on the shoulder whispering, “That’s what you said last week.”
“I mean it this time,” she insisted.
“You said that too,” Dex grinned then kissed her ear. He wanted to unwrap her and feel her skin against his again.
“Dex…,” Constance’s body was at war with her common sense.
“You need to stop worrying,” Dex soothed as he ran his hand up Constance’s covered stomach reaching her breasts then tugging at the covering to reveal her body to him. Constance shook him off, rolled over to look him in his arrogant steely eyes, “There’s a plan that doesn’t involve me and you.”
“Once the training house closes you and I can go to Europa and start a life together,” Dex tried to soothe his lover but she was unconvinced. “I have money and connections. You won’t have to worry about trying to please some rich asshole who treats you like a toy that he can just throw away.”
“Says a man I know for a fact is an asshole,” Constance couldn’t help herself from smiling a little.
“Well…,” Dex paused his smile never fading, “I’m different.”
“How so?”
“You like me.”
Constance playfully punched Dex in the chest. Dex retaliated by planting a loving kiss on Constance’s plump lips. She felt so warm but her body was shivering. Constance looked up at him, touching his face and looking deep into his tired eyes, “Have you been having nightmares again?”
Dex heaved a heavy sigh. Constance stroked his muscular arm reaching the burn mark on his forearm. She asked once what happened but Dex would only say it was a remnant of his past that he wished to put behind him.
“You never talk about what you see in those dreams,” Constance traced her fingers on the scar. Dex pulled his arm away as if the touch stung. Constance was one of the few who were allowed to touch that scar. He caressed her face and kissed her forehead.
“Nothing that you need to worry about,” Dex assured her. They lay there in silence listening to the other’s heart beat and breath. The world outside melted away as it always did when they were together. They were caught in the other’s orbit, a gravity that neither could shake but Constance knew it couldn’t last forever.
“This is the last time. I really mean it,” Constance said, her green eyes full of sadness.
“Constance,” Dex pleaded. “We can have a life together. No more sneaking around or having to worry about you leaving.”
“What kind of life could we have?”
“We could get married.”
Constance rolled over. She sat up on the edge of the bed, “I can’t be a wife to anyone…” Constance found her clothes on the floor right next to her. Dex moved and rested his chin on her elegant white shoulder.
“Why not?” Dex asked confused. Constance straightened her spine, brushing him off. “Constance—“
“You know why,” Constance snapped as she wriggled back into her sari. “You know I can never have children.”
“So you’re just going to go along with Euphemia’s plan just like that?” Dex argued getting a little peeved. “Be a martyr? That’s not you.”
“Just because we sleep together sometimes doesn’t mean you know a damn thing about me,” Constance retorted.
“No,” Dex got up and grabbed Constance by the shoulders, “I know you because I love you.”
Those words of love were more of a barb that further engraved Dex in her heart like a fresh branding or paper cut that cut deeper. "Life isn't all rainbows and butterflies, you know. I’m a toy to be played with and disposed of,” Constance wriggled out of his grip averting her eyes brimming with tears. “It wouldn’t matter anyway,” Constance finished getting dressed. “The plan is already in motion…”
“I’m not giving up,” Dex affirmed but Constance didn’t stop as she disappeared through his door. “You don’t deserve this…”
* * * * *
Lady Euphemia sat in her office looking over some documents. Most of them were bills. The House of Hedone was becoming too much to maintain. She needed to find patrons with deep pockets fast. Euphemia felt a twinge of pain coming from her chest. She sat back and took out a small bag and poured some of it’s contents into her glass of wine. Once she sipped the contents a wave of relief washed over her.
"Lady Euphemia," one of the maid servants announced, "Viceroy Julian Sulla is here to see you." Julian Sulla walked into the room with a charismatic smile on his face.
"Welcome to our humble home, Viceroy," Euphemia gave the Viceroy her own glowing smile that matched his own.
“Lady Euphemia,” Sulla and Euphemia exchanged kisses on cheeks. “It’s an honor to meet a famous lady such as yourself. A shame it’s under such dark circumstances.”
“We do what we must even when it’s distasteful,” Euphemia shrugged.
“I suppose we should get started then,” Sulla agreed.
“Shall we move to a dark room?” Euphemia raised an eyebrow. Inside she was afraid of the answer.
“Here is fine,” Sulla took out a clear tablet. He put his thumb on the top corner and data came bursting out. Magdalene’s animated profile picture came out along with some additional data.
“Did your protege ever show any signs of dissent or grievance with the EC?” Sulla asked bluntly.
“Magdalene was never an activist,” Euphemia explained. “I’ve known her since she was 10.”
“And she gave no indication her feelings about the Generation Law?”
The new Generation Law allowed mining families of the lowest caste to apply for citizenship of Europa or any other land for their families after 6 generations of good behavior. It wasn’t a popular law given that the stations were breaking down and the highest caste were the only ones with life boats.
“Like I said,” Euphemia retorted, “Magdalene was more interested in lighter subjects. She was also a woman of the Ahsoka. Non-violence is not one of their things.”
“You have a lot of Ashoka women in your school I see,” Sulla commented. “Perhaps that’s why others think that makes them the perfect spies. Be neutral. Watch and learn then report what they see.”
“I train my girls to be vigilant,” Euphemia’s pupils began to dilate the Viceroy noticed. “One must always be prepared when the winds change as they often do.” Sulla and Euphemia stared each other down until Euphemia decided to move the interrogation along.
“Do they know what poison was used?” Euphemia asked.
“Arsenic,” Sulla continued. “We also have footage of Magdalene entering a shop in the Marina.”
Sulla went to his pad then pulled up a video feed. He sent the file to Euphemia. A rectangle hologram appeared above her desk and showed the video feed of Magdalene in a crowded street way on Zagreus’s Marina District, a space port where all trade took place but it was also a district known for criminal activities such as Legion meetings. Euphemia said nothing.
“In your glory days you were most famous for giving your rivals arsenic isn’t that right?”
Euphemia managed to find her voice again, “Are you accusing me of murder?”
“I’m only trying to get to the truth, Lady Euphemia,” Sulla explained. Euphemia took a closer look at the video feed and noticed a sign.
“She went to an herbalist,” Euphemia dismissed. “She probably had a malady or perhaps the Viceroy had something.”
“There is nothing in Seneca’s medical records that would suggest he needed any herbal remedy,” Sulla dismissed.
“People keep secrets for a reason,” Euphemia smirked.
Sulla’s face remained unchanged. Euphemia continued, “Think about it, Viceroy, if I killed your predecessor that would be hammering a nail in my own coffin. I was relying on him to keep this place open.”
Euphemia’s vision began to blur. The effects of the drugs were working fast.
“Are you alright, Lady Euphemia?” Sulla asked.
“Yes,” Euphemia breathed deep and slowly to gain her bearings. After the intense silence Sulla suddenly broke into a cool smile.
“I’ll leave you with this video,” Sulla stood up and straightened his jacket. “Perhaps something will spark.”
Euphemia stayed in her seat glowering at the smug Viceroy.
“I’m only here for the truth,” he repeated.
“And what truth will you feed the masses?” Euphemia asked curtly.
“Either way I intend to appease my peers and the citizens,” Sulla said.
* * * * *
Dex leaned against the iron beam outside the Canterbury Bar (or the Cant as locals called it) of the trashy tunnel of the Red District of Zagreus. He had sent the signal 2 hours ago. Where the hell was he? Dex’s soldier instincts were on high alert. Then he heard movement from behind him. Dex whirled around grabbing the intruder by the collar taking his blade out touching the man’s throat.
“Easy, Mate,” Faro said his Adam’s Apple bobbing against the cool steal his voice taut. “You called me remember?” Faro had Turkish ancestry with his swarthy skin and dark eyes and hair. He scared most people with those dark eyes that had all sorts of crazy in their depths.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” Dex warned.
“You shouldn’t underestimate your opponent either,” Faro countered.
Dex suddenly felt pressure to his groin then looked down to see Faro holding a curved blade to his genitals. “Careful…,” Faro reminded. “Wouldn’t want you to lose the thing that keeps you at Hedone.”
They were in a stalemate. After an intense glowering session the two men broke into a jovial laugh, released each other then grabbed each other by the arm in greeting. They each put their blades away.
“You’re late,” Dex complained.
"You called at a real inconvenient time you know, Brother,” Faro sounded irritated. “So shortly after the death of Viceroy Seneca. Orders were to lay low. Clayton’s waiting inside.”
“Sorry to steal you away from your rat hole but we need to speed up our plans for the House of Hedone," Dex said. He and Faro walked in where Clayton was waiting for them at the far end of the bar. He motioned for them to meet him in the back.
"I told you it's too soon," Faro countered simply. "The time isn't right. If you joined our cause then you would know all the details.”
“I don’t care about your anarchist ideals,” Dex reasoned bitterly. “Djinn is a mad man who would sooner blow up an entire station full of innocent civilians to get his point across.” He was the only one with enough balls to stand up to the EC. The only ones who knew Djinn’s real identity were ones very close to him… Grayson claims he met with Djinn several times.
Dex and Faro snuck into the store room where Clayton was waiting.
“You assholes are late,” Clayton croaked. He was a bitter old man who was chewed up by life then spit right out. He survived with one eye but still he could probably take on Dex or Faro.
“Had a hard time getting away,” Dex excused.
“If you were stuck in a house full of beautiful women then you’d be late everywhere too,” Faro teased with a wicked wink, patting his comrade on the back. Clayton opened a back panel hidden by crates of whiskey.
“A wonder you two jackasses are still alive if a few hot legs can distract you from the cause,” Clayton ranted in his scratchy voice as Dex and Faro climbed through the hole.
“I often wonder that myself,” Dex retorted. Clayton closed the door behind them leaving Dex and Faro in the dark but not for long. The back panel led to an elevator that led down to the tunnels of Zagreus. Tunnels that mostly the undesirables and rebels use for shelter from the EC.
“This is about the girl again,” Faro said bitterly.
Dex glared at his comrade who glared back.
"Euphemia is setting her up to be the next lamb of sacrifice," Dex said. "She'll be sold to the Viceroy just to keep her house open a little longer."
Faro was quiet for a while then said, "There are more important things than your little whore in training, old friend." Dex glowered at him with such heat that Faro half expected real laser beams to shoot out his eyes. The elevator doors opened to an armory where men and women were going back and forth with crates and weapons. Some were gathered around a table where a man named Grayson was looking at a computer table looking at departure times for certain vessels that were loyal to Legion. Grayson looked up to see Dex and Faro.
“Gentlemen,” he said. “Glad you could finally join us.”
Grayson was of African descent. His skin as dark as night and a scar across his face giving him a frightening appearance with a voice as smooth as honey but just as bold.
“You have what I asked for?” Grayson looked to Dex who pulled a tiny hard drive out of his pocket.
“Wasn’t easy getting this,” Dex muttered. He tossed the drive to Grayson who caught it in his dark hands. Grayson smiled and thanked Dex for his help.
“I wish you would fully join us, Ransom,” said Grayson.
“I don’t fight for causes anymore,” Dex insisted gravely.
“No cause except your own,” Grayson smiled. “I can respect that though I hope you will reconsider.”
“You killed the former Viceroy,” Dex countered. “Pretty dumb and I don’t work with dumb people.”
“Which is why we didn’t do it,” Grayson retorted. “Someone else did and is blaming us.”
Dex paused and considered this new information.
“Djinn thinks it was a rival politician,” Grayson theorized. “My first suspect is the new Viceroy.”
“Julian Sulla?” Faro raised an eyebrow. “You have any proof?” Dex noticed Faro’s eyebrow twitching which happened when he liked to bluff during poker.
“Who else had more to gain?” Grayson asked. “If you help us prove it then we can expose him to the masses. More would probably join our cause. Help us and we’ll help you, Dex.”
* * * * *
It had been a few days since Constance’s last encounter with Dex. Forget him and the little world he lives in. He was a man who lived in a fantasy world where women were defenseless creatures in need of saving.
Constance let her mind drift as she poured sweet scented oils into her dark hair. The baths of the House of Hedone were a place the girls could gossip while relaxing. The room was built in the old Turkish Bath style. It was like a harem from the Old Testament of the old institution of Christianity. The sand colored marble room echoed with the girls' chatter and giggles. The girls wet with steam that crawled around the room filling their lungs and glazing their flesh.
"So anyway, Constance, what do you think?"
Constance blinked. She suddenly realized that other people were there with her.
“Sorry… What were we talking about again?” Constance asked.
“Daydreaming again, Constance?” marveled Aurelia in mock surprise. “How am I not surprised?” Aurelia's sun kissed skin glimmered from her sweat. Constance often envied Aurelia's skin. Compared to Aurelia, Constance was a ghost. But Aurelia often envied Constance as well. However, she would never admit it. Laila and Aurelia were floating in the hot steamy bath while Constance was sitting on a bench on dry land wrapped in a wet linen robe. She opened it to allow herself to breathe. It felt like shedding a second skin as it lay on the bench, herself completely exposed.
"Perhaps her mind was on something else...," teased Laila. “Maybe someone else?"
"What makes you say that?” Constance's insides clenched.
"I saw you," Laila accused. Constance couldn’t breathe until Leila continued, “You were talking with the new Viceroy.”
Constance’s body released steam like the hot vapors that lingered in the room. Of course they would know about that. Nothing was kept secret for long in Hedone.
"Walking alone with a potential patron?" Aurelia rung her golden hair to get out the excess water and scented oils as she eyed Constance suspiciously. “Shameful. Scandalous.”
“Half the things that go on behind these walls are shameful and scandalous,” retorted Constance. “But I would expect nothing less from someone raised to be ashamed of their body within the Covenant.” Aurelia miffed shooting daggers with her eyes at her rival.
“Oh stop it you two,” Laila interrupted. "I want to hear what happened. The Viceroy is handsome. Rare in a politician. I’ve seen plenty of them on the news feed and they’re all old ugly perverts.” Laila had the power to diffuse any tense situation. She seemed to have been born with it. She said she came from a noisy household so her talents were put to good use. Laila was only 17 with a smooth mocha complexion, long jet black hair, and indigo almond shaped eyes. She was of small frame, willowy unlike Aurelia and Constance who had more curves. Constance leaned back, her muscles releasing tension once more. Aurelia conceded as well.
"Well...," Constance sighed. “He was charming for sure.”
"I notice he has a fine ass. Nice lips too. And his eyes are so blue…,” Laila tilted her head becoming dreamy eyed.
“Down, Laila,” Aurelia chuckled. “Save it for your erotic instructors in 3 months if this place is still open that is…” Laila shrugged. She and Constance exchanged amused glances. “Besides you shouldn’t be in a hurry to grow up,” Constance reminded the girl.
“But it feels so exciting,” Laila sighed wishing next year would come sooner.
“Don’t view the erotic instructors with such romance,” Constance sobered. “Some are more piggish than others.” On this Aurelia agreed with Constance. Erotic Instructors were men in their early to mid-30s. They were all types of men: rough, gentle, some fit, some fat. Courtesans usually had 1 erotic instructor but some of the instructors traded. They treated the school as their own personal harem. Some were nice while others… Constance fidgeted at the memory of one in particular… but Dex was different.
"Maybe... but to be the mistress of such an important man like Julian Sulla. He’s risen quite high all the way from the Agriculture caste to the Political caste,” Laila let herself daydream of being chosen by someone as famous as the young Viceroy.
“You know, Laila,” Aurelia crossed her arms covering her exposed breasts, “you may act like a tunnel rat of Cressida but you certainly are well informed about a lot of things.”
Laila disappeared underwater without a word, only an evil smile mocking her fellow sisters.
"You should be careful, Constance," Aurelia spoke softly. “I’ve heard that Julian Sulla has a network of assassins and spies to do his dirty work. They say he even murdered his own wife when he didn’t need her anymore. You can’t be careless…” Julian Sulla married above his caste which was the quickest way to rise but as soon as he established his own political career they say he murdered his wife so as to keep his chances open for another advantageous marriage.
Constance didn't respond but she did nod in thanks. Sometimes Aurelia was a rival but they were still by all accounts sisters within these walls.
* * * *
Sulla was in his new quarters going through some files. He figured he’d get some work done while he was here. He had a perfect view of the courtyard and it’s exotic gardens. He had been to the jungle planet Europa. The sapphire rivers and emerald jungles filled with strange but beautiful creatures. Sulla was suddenly reminded of Constance in the grotto. As if by the twist of Fate, Sulla looked over to see the very same woman in a silk robe once more damp. Did she live in water? He wondered what she looked like dry? He imagined her ebony locks softly curled cascading past her shoulders. Her cheeks rosy. Her lips full and red.
Her back to him Sulla was mesmerized by the fine linen clung to her body like a second skin. He wondered what her skin felt like. Did it feel soft like silk? Would she bruise at the slightest touch? But Sulla was knocked out of his reverie when one of his cadets tapped him on the shoulder.
"Sir, these came for you today,” the young man said holding a brass metal vase containing white Gardenias. The only plant from Earth besides a few crops that were taking well to Europa soil.
Sulla smiled dryly. He didn’t need to know who sent them.
* * * * *
Faro waited in the coolness of the wine cellar. He chewed on the mint plant he liked to take his mind off the waiting as well as to calm his nerves. He used to be a smoker. Old Earth cigarettes were rare only the highest caste could get them. The new stuff was healthier but there was something about the taste of nicotine. Perhaps it was a reminder, a last link to their origins from Earth? He would ask the Viceroy for some Old Earth cigarettes as payment along with his usual fee. Faro heard the shuffling of foot steps, the familiar heavy step of the Viceroy's leather boots.
“Good afternoon, Viceroy,” Faro greeted.
“I trust you haven’t been seen,” Sulla asked.
“I’m ex-Stygian Corps, Sir,” Faro was almost boasting. “They taught us stealth above all else.” And other more gory things… Things that made Faro perfect for the many unsavory tasks that Sulla needed him for.
“This must be important for you to send those gardenias,” Sulla folded his arms looking at Faro with a steely glance.
“I had a meeting with Legion today,” Faro said cryptically.
“Well don’t keep me in suspense,” Sulla snapped.
“They still won’t let me meet with Djinn in person,” Faro informed the Viceroy. Sulla frowned. Faro quickly said, “But I’m close and I think I know who it is.”
“Oh…?”
“A girl named Mara Vega,” Faro continued.
“Tell me more…”
“You know those bombings of air ships delivering energy crystals to EC’s home base ship Zephyr? A guy I know who made the bombs said he sold a few to a woman with three fingers on her right hand.”
“Are you absolutely sure that it’s her?”
“Every major bombing, raid, or propaganda feed she was there for,” Faro confirmed. “And if not she may know who Djinn is.”
“Anything else I should know?” Sulla asked.
Faro shook his head.
“Good because there’s someone I want you to follow,” Sulla’s thoughts drifted to more pleasant things.
“That’ll cost you a pack of Old Earth cigarettes,” Faro shrugged.
Sulla grimaced, “You know those are bad for your health?”
“We all gotta die sometime,” Finn sighed scratching his beard. “Who’s this maggot you want me to tail?”
“She’s a student here named Constance,” Sulla explained. “I want to know everything you can find on her.”
* * * * *
Euphemia had only 2 syringes left. She injected herself then poured some powder into her wine. Instantly Euphemia felt calm.
"My lady," Constance bowed low in respect. Euphemia only narrowed her eyes at the pretty young girl.
“You’re late,” Euphemia snapped. Euphemia's sharp accusing eyes were trying to penetrate her very soul.
“Sorry, Matron,” Constance kept her gaze averted instead concentrated on the flower patterns in her red rug. Euphemia forced Constance's chin up so that they could look each other in the eyes.
“This is a very important day,” Euphemia reminded Constance. “The Viceroy has been dropping hints that he’s wanted to see you.”
"Yes, Matron,” Yet Constance wouldn't allow herself to be consumed by Euphemia's smoldering gaze that caused many girls at Hedone to crumble. Filled with a renewed sense of duty Constance straightened her spine and held herself steady. Euphemia's mouth curved in a bit of a smile. She couldn't help but be a little impressed with Constance. When it came down to it the girl will do the practical thing. Euphemia released her charge then said, “We’re having tea with the new Viceroy in an hour. He wants to discuss how things are done here and whether or not Hedone should be kept open or the courtesan system be kept alive at all. Wear your blue sari. The one that accentuates your ass and your breasts. It also goes with your eyes.”
Constance nodded. She noticed that Euphemia was breathless. Euphemia wasn’t looking well these days.
“Are you alright, Matron?” Constance asked. Euphemia glared at her protege, hating the pity in her green eyes.
“I’m fine,” Euphemia puffed up. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
* * * * *
Sulla sat at the table in the middle of the courtyard. It was the very heart of Hedone’s gardens. He sat beneath a red tent that had a Bohemian decor in reverence to ancient times when the sex trade was done with less shame. Then Sulla saw Euphemia and Constance approaching. He stood up to greet them.
* * * * *
She was beautiful once... Euphemia inspected herself in the mirror. She did this more often than she used to in recent weeks. Now stress was adding more lines. Guards posted at her door. Euphemia was a prisoner in her own household. She tried to think of something more pleasant to keep her mind off her gloomy situation but even more negative thoughts piled on.
Constance was her only salvation as much as she loathed to admit it. The new Viceroy is very taken with her. Euphemia recognized a hunter. He loved the chase. He won't rest until he takes down his prey. Since Euphemia was giving the man so many opportunities it shouldn’t be long now. Yes she knew about Constance and Dex’s trysts. The grotto was their favorite place. It was a simple matter of interception and delay.
* * * * *
Leila and Aurelia were looking through their clothes seeing the pitiful fabrics they had that were from last season.
“Ugh! Why are we even bothering to go through this stuff?” Aurelia groaned. “Lady Euphemia is going to prison so we’re most likely going back to whatever junk station we came from.”
“She’s only being detained,” Leila argued.
“Pfff,” Aurelia scoffed. “House Arrest is as much a sentence of guilt as there ever was.”
Leila cast her eyes down. She tried to stay optimistic, “Maybe Constance can reason with the Viceroy. He likes her.”
“If our fates rest on Constance’s arrogant shoulders then it’s best I start selling these dresses to buy my ticket to Europa.” Aurelia picked out a purple dress with golden stars sewn into the fabric, stars of old Earth. “This should fetch a good price.”
It was then Leila noticed the time.
“I’ll see you later,” Leila said.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to see someone,” Leila excused.
“Well hurry back before I take something of yours to sell for myself,” Aurelia warned.
Leila made her way to one of the abandoned corridors into one of the empty rooms. This room was once filled with tapestries and perfumes but now it was a cold echoing tomb to what was.
"Were you followed?" asked a woman's voice.
Leila turned a bit startled but when she saw who it was she let out a breath of relief.
"Of course not," Leila placed her hands on her hips in indignation.
"Anything new to report then?" the mystery woman asked.
“Euphemia is being questioned almost every few hours,” Leila reported. “The Viceroy hasn’t been to see her mostly his guards and interrogators.”
“And what has the Viceroy been doing,” the woman asked.
“Mostly he spends his time in his room signing documents and… staring out the window at the bath house.”
“Hm a student has caught his eye? Which one?”
“Constance,” Leila winced. She felt a small twinge of pain in her stomach. Leila was all for spying for the cause but Constance was a sore spot. She was always so kind and generous to Leila. Something she hadn’t known for a long time.
“Has Constance shown any interest?” the woman probed.
Leila rubbed her hands together as if they were suddenly frozen, wringing them as she struggled to answer.
“What’s wrong?” the woman asked impatiently.
“It’s just… Constance is a dear friend,” Leila explained. “I was thinking that we should recruit her for the cause.”
The woman approached Leila then reached out and touched her cheek. Leila saw the claw-like hand but unlike others was not afraid. Her mistress had only three fingers, a thumb, an index finger and a middle finger while the rest were cut off.
“I know this is hard for you,” the mystery woman spoke softly. “But we can’t afford to blow everything. What if she refuses and tells someone like the Viceroy?”
Leila cast her eyes down. The woman kissed Leila tenderly on the forehead and caressed her like a familiar lover. In fact they were lovers. Lovers with a common cause, which was why it was so easy for Leila to perform her mission… sometimes anyway.
“But I don’t think she’ll even choose the Viceroy,” Leila voiced.
“Why do you say that?” the woman asked curiously.
“Because I saw her with Dex, the Matron’s lover,” Leila explained. "Once I saw them emerge from behind a tapestry. Constance looked a bit disheveled."
"How do you find this stuff out?" the woman asked as she looked at her young lover in amazement.
"Sometimes no one notices me until I speak up or they forget I'm there," Leila boasted.
"Thank God for that then," the woman nodded. "Good."
“So…,” Leila proceeded with caution. “Can I ask her?”
“Wait until the time is right,” her handler advised. “If she chooses the Viceroy it would be better for us if she were on our side.”
Leila nodded. At least she could help Constance.
“What are you going to do?” Leila asked expectantly.
"It's been a long time since I've stayed here," the woman sighed with nostalgia. “I’ll send a message to Euphemia through our mutual friend. Hopefully she accepts my help. Now you should get back before they notice you’re missing. Stay strong, Sister.”
Leila nodded. "I'm committed to the cause, Sister Mara," Leila swore.
* * * * *
Dex waited outside Euphemia’s guarded doors like a good dog. He admired the little golden ring that he turned over in his hand. It was supposed to be a gift for Constance. It will be anyway... he was convinced that if he could just get Hedone to close then Constance would be free to be with him. Looking at the ring he began to remember when he first saw her. He came to Hedone when Constance was 15. He didn't think much of her at first. She was a quiet thing with defiant green eyes that sparkled like emeralds. Yet when she talked she had a sharp wit that was beyond her years. She also had a great amount for compassion that Dex wasn’t used to. He was her Erotic Instructor when she first turned 18 but they didn’t become physical for a long time as Dex was already tangled up with Euphemia. He didn’t want to make her jealous and though he was surrounded by beautiful young women he was too self loathing to enjoy any of them.
Then Constance turned 20 and went through the graduation procedure: a courtesan is sterilized through injections to make sure she didn't bear any children of her patron's so as not to contest inheritance or to hold the courtesan back if she wanted to find a new patron. It wasn't a small thing to give up. He saw the Courtesan System as a medieval institution that was approaching extinction. He had caught Constance crying after the procedure. He allowed her to cry on his shoulder and that's when he realized he was falling in love with this girl. So quiet and brave that you would never guess that sometimes she was suffering inside. Probably how she was raised in the Ashoka religion. Basically their motto was: Shit happens. Deal with it.
“You may see your mistress now,” said the guard in a gravelly voice.
Dex put the ring in his pocket and sighed. Yes, his mistress. Dex thought it would be easier to see Constance now that Euphemia was under house arrest but…
“Dex, join us, please,” Euphemia smiled as sweetly as she could. Dex looked to see a nervous Constance sitting across from the Matron, green eyes worried. His heart stopped and breath caught in his throat. Why was Constance here? Dex sat next to Euphemia who placed her eager hand on his thigh it slowly inching towards his crotch. Constance pretended not to notice.
“Constance and I were just discussing strategy,” Euphemia explained. “Tell him, Constance.”
Constance paused then seeing Euphemia’s cold gaze she started, “The Viceroy wants to meet with me tonight.”
“About what?” Dex asked trying to move his leg to keep Euphemia’s wandering hand from reaching it’s destination.
“I requested it,” Constance admitted. “I want to help Lady Euphemia and plead her case.”
“They have a video,” Dex reminded them both. “Magdalene poisoned Seneca.”
“Nonsense,” Euphemia dismissed. “Video can be corrupted. I knew Magdalene all too well.” Euphemia took her hand off of Dex’s thigh to his relief and walked over to her vanity. She opened a drawer and pulled out a small thin drive.
“What’s that?” Dex asked.
“A break glass situation,” Constance explained.
“Some files I’ve been keeping for just such an occasion,” Euphemia said as she handed the drive to Constance. “Some files that no one in politics would want getting out if anything should happen to me.”
“A black mail file?” Dex asked incredulously. “You might as well say that you’re guilty of treason and murder.”
“I’ve been accused of far worse, darling, and I’ve come out quite alright,” Euphemia defended calmly. “Sulla isn’t the only one who can play this game.”
“You’re sending Constance into the fire,” Dex stood up exasperated. Euphemia narrowed her eyes at her young lover.
“Constance will do what is expected of her,” Euphemia said coldly. “Isn’t that right, dear?”
Constance didn’t even look at Dex. She nodded but with no hint of emotion in her eyes. She looked like an automaton that Euphemia could control with a flick of a switch.
“I’ll do what is necessary for you, Matron,” Constance promised.
* * * * *
Dex and Constance left Euphemia’s room. She was to be questioned again.
“They’re hoping to wear her down with the same annoying questions over and over again,” Constance figured. “They don’t know what woman they’re dealing with.”
“How could you do this?” Dex asked abruptly.
“Do what?” Constance stopped at the window looking out at the gardens.
“Be Euphemia’s lap dog?”
“You’re one to talk, Dex,” Constance argued coolly. That one stung.
“I got a message from my mother,” Constance sighed.
“What did it say?” Dex asked somewhat subdued.
“My dad broke his back on the job,” Constance said. She avoided eye contact and continued, “Now he can’t work and mom can’t make enough to support them so it’s all on me now…” Constance rubbed her obsidian beads between her fingers as she often did when in a moment of crisis.
Dex sighed and leaned against the wall looking at his feet as if the answer were written there. He rubbed his tired brown eyes so hard he began seeing pink spots.
“I wish…,” Dex began. Constance touched his arm, squeezing it lightly.
“We all wish but wishes are for children who don’t know the world as we do,” Constance sagely spoke. “I remember you telling me something like that.”
“I was much bitter back then,” Dex faced Constance.
“Yes,” Constance remembered the handsome yet cynical Dex Ransom, the veteran soldier turned erotic instructor of Hedone. “What happened to that guy? He was much easier to hate.”
Dex chuckled, “That idiot fell in love with a girl with the big heart.”
They stood in silence for a moment. They looked out at the life that sprung beneath the dome where everywhere else was an icy wasteland.
“Just say the word and we’ll run,” Dex whispered.
Constance closed her eyes and pictured that for a moment. It filled her with joy but then the sad faces of her friends and family intruded. She wasn’t a runner. She took her prayer beads into both hands, praying extra hard for strength.
“Dex, why is this so important to you?” Constance asked. “Why do you keep asking me to run?”
“There’s nothing wrong with running,” Dex said.
“There is for me…”
“Enough of this Ashoka responsibility crap you keep spouting,“ Dex angrily protested. “You’re a grown woman—“
“Are you done?” Constance snapped. She was in no mood for Dex’s misunderstanding of her faith that always gave her comfort and strength. Dex looked her with pleading eyes but Constance remained firm in her answer. Then Dex’s steely eyes grew cold and he said, “Yeah I’m done.”
Dex walked off in a huff leaving Constance alone with her thoughts. Yet as he was walking away he noticed a familiar figure watching them from a distance. He saw him in the bushes looking up at them with binocular goggles, which made him even more angry.
* * * * *
Dex and Faro were both trained in the intense art of hand to hand combat. With all his strength Faro shoved his old friend back almost knocking Dex to the ground. They stood facing each other like raging bulls ready to butt heads.
“Take it easy, friend,” Faro explained. “I’m just keeping an eye on you.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“What do you take me for an amateur?” Faro was insulted. “I’m here to watch your back like we always do for each other.”
“What did Grayson say?” Dex asked calming down a little. Nostrils still flaring.
Faro paused trying to figure out how to put it gently. Impatient Dex asked again then Faro said, “I’m sorry, man. The girl has to stay put. I can get you out of here but the girl has to stay she’s important.”
“To whom?” Dex asked exasperated.
“Easy, partner,” Faro warned. “I’m just doing my job.”
“What job?”
“Best if you don’t know…”
“The hell with that!” Dex cried. “I’ll get her out without you.” Faro suddenly grabbed Dex then pinned him to the ground, his boot pressed to his old comrade’s chest.
Dex struggled to get free but Faro’s foot was clamped down hard, “What the hell?”
“I’m doing this for your own good, buddy,” Faro explained. “That girl’s got you all turned around! She’s filling your head with nonsense! Making you all soft. That’s not the man I know.”
Faro didn’t want to hurt Dex. They used to be quite close in the service. They had done horrible things together. The sort of things that bonded men together for life.
“It’s better if you just forget about the wench and move on,” Faro advised.
“Pretty hard to move when you have a boot on your chest,” Dex retorted. Faro removed his boot. Dex scrambled to his feet, wiping Faro’s boot print off him as he caught his breath.
“Your Lady Constance isn’t really yours,” Faro said. “Sulla’s a powerful guy. He gets what he wants and what he wants is Constance. Djinn wants us to watch her. If she’s close to the Viceroy then we can turn her to our cause.”
Everyone was trying to use Constance for their own ends. It made Dex sick to hear all of this. But he caught Faro’s eye twitching again.
“Is that what Djinn really said for you to do? Spy on her?” Dex asked suspiciously.
“We’ll do what needs to be done to fight for our cause,” Faro said his eyes never really looking at Dex. Dex knew Faro well enough to know when he wasn’t telling the whole story.
“What aren’t you telling me, Faro?”
Faro suddenly got defensive, “Saving that whore isn’t going to make up for all the terrible things you did, Dex!”
Dex was filled with a rage he hadn’t felt in years. Not that dark day 6 years ago had felt so much hatred for Faro. Dex grabbed his comrade by the throat and shoved him up against a tree. The violent act made the ring fall out of Dex’s pocket.
“You think she’ll still love you when she finds out what you did at that rally 6 years ago?” Faro garbled.
“Say one more word about Constance or Geronimo and I’ll—“
“Go ahead!” Faro goaded. “It won’t matter. I’ll just be another ghost to haunt your nightmares!” Dex froze.
“Yeah…,” Faro said. “I get them too, brother. I see the faces of the people we killed, the horrible things we did.” Dex relented his grip. “We can’t escape it. Whenever I close my eyes I see them. I hear their screams… but I embrace it.”
Dex looked down to see the golden ring that fell out of his pocket.
“Just forget about this girl, Dex, and come with me,” Faro pleaded. “If you want a new start then you can have it… but without her.” Dex picked up the golden ring. He admired it’s simple gleam in the light of the burning star that this small solar system revolved around. Constance’s smiling face came into view. Whenever things grew dark Dex would picture her face. He did it on reflex now.
“Not without Constance,” Dex determined.
* * * * *
Sulla poured himself some wine as his aides set up for his romantic dinner with Lady Constance. Over the past few weeks in his investigation of his predecessor’s murder Constance had remained elusive. Her green eyes and curvy form glistening from water droplets were enough to make him salivate. He never thought of himself as a lustful man, making more time for his ambition of climbing the social ladder but Constance was like a dream that consumed his waking hours.
He wasn’t a fool. He knew that she was most likely a bait set by Euphemia to make a better case for herself. Sulla was a bit impressed. Sounds like something he would have done.
“Sir, the lady—” an aide introduced Lady Constance but she brushed past the young man as if he wasn’t even there. She was wearing a red sari with gold coins dangling that shimmered with every move she made. Her breasts were not prominent but the tightness of the fabric accentuated their roundness. She wore a hood embroidered with gold and her ebony hair was tucked inside except for a few stray strands. Sulla wanted so badly to pull back that hood and tangle his fingers through her dark lustrous locks.
“Lady Constance,” Sulla rose from his desk and approached Constance who kept a safe distance. “I’m so happy you agreed to meet with me.”
“I wanted to make a case for my Matron…,” Constance looked around the romantic setting, “however I was hoping it would be in your office.”
“But my office is much too formal and I would like to get to know people in a much more relaxed setting,” Sulla offered Constance wine which she accepted cautiously.
“Is this a dinner or a seduction, Viceroy?” Constance asked with a lovely smirk.
“I’m hoping it’s a little of both,” Yet he was hoping that it would be latter.
“Well… it would be very rude of me to decline the invitation,” Constance sat at the table adorned with food. She had never seen such elegance except at formal dinners at the houses of bureaucrats and the sons of rich nobles.
They both sat close to each other but still Constance kept a good distance.
“I was afraid you would have said no to meeting me after last week—“
“When you arrested my Matron during our tea?” Constance finished. “It was pretty rude of you.”
“They never tell you the kind of hard things you would have to do when in office,” Sulla said. “Perhaps if everyone knew they wouldn’t want the job.”
“Given what I’ve read about you that’s not entirely true,” Constance leaned on her elbow looking up at Sulla with her emerald eyes. “You only take jobs that no one wants.”
Sulla laughed and mused, “Someone has to do the hard thing. If we only took jobs that we liked then nothing would get done.”
Constance grew somber, “I have to completely agree with you there.” There was a pause.
“Are you alright, Lady Constance?” Sulla asked concerned.
Constance sat up straight once more, her coins shimmering with her movements, “It’s nothing… Everything that’s going on: Legion, Europa getting ready to be colonized, we live in horrible yet extraordinary times.”
Sulla smiled and nodded in agreement. He moved a few inches closer as he spoke, slowly closing the space between them. Constance shifted uncomfortably. His knee was close enough to hers for them to touch. The anticipation was building within him. He wanted to move back the black strand and see her elegant white neck. He wanted to kiss her pulse and feel it quicken at his intimate touch.
“Have you discovered anything new in the case,” Constance said seriously.
Sulla practically groaned at Constance’s insistence on business. But nevertheless he smiled lightly lamenting, “I can’t reveal too much of the case with you but I can tell you that we are doing everything we can to find out what really happened and capture the culprits.”
“So you believe in my Matron’s innocence?”
“The evidence…,” Sulla shifted in his seat and spoke in a low sympathetic voice, “is very much against her.”
Sulla was so close enough to pull Constance into a hot embrace. Constance changed the subject, “So,” she took his gloved hands into his, “why don’t you tell me about these gloves? You hiding something?”
Sulla’s throat moved, his face looking like he swallowed something bitter.
“If it’s too rough for you then you don’t have to tell me,” Constance quickly said.
“No, it’s alright,” Sulla took a deep breath. “I see no harm in showing you. Everyone already knows about the why.”
“Someone said your father…,” Constance trailed off. Julian Sulla was from a humble farming family that took care of the agri-stations and his parents were very devout members of the Covenant Church. Sulla carefully removed his black gloves to reveal the jagged scars on his palms.
Overcome with pity Constance caressed the Viceroy’s hands. Sulla never felt such warmth emanating or such gentle strength from what looked like fragile hands. Her doe eyes were full of concern and compassion.
“Why do your people do this?” she finally asked.
“It’s good to remember one’s sins so that you may repent,” Sulla explained the Covenant Church’s doctrine. “You must never forget your wrongs so that you may improve.”
“How old were you when…?”
“I was about 13,” Sulla’s eyes became distant with the memories. “I had other scars but they’re mostly faded. Almost gone.”
“Monstrous,” Constance became angry. It touched Sulla to see her show such emotion for him. He could tell she was being sincere. Constance traced the lines of his scars tenderly as if they were freshly cut. However, the memory began to come bubbling up and Sulla could feel himself weaken. He took back his hands and put the black gloves on again. His faithful shields.
“I suppose you don’t talk to your parents often?” Constance inquired.
“Not often no,” Sulla smiled weakly. “But I make sure they’re well taken care of.”
“I’m sorry,” Constance felt contrite, feeling as if she had opened a door she shouldn’t have. “I didn’t mean to—“
“It’s alright,” Sulla waved her hand, “I wanted to tell you. It feels good to tell someone.”
Constance looked down at her lap, uninterested in the food they brought out. Sulla hated seeing her so sad.
“You seem like such a nice girl. Why do you want to save the courtesan system so badly?” he asked. “Being sterilized couldn’t have been easy for you.”
Constance responded cynically, “It doesn’t matter what’s easy. The one thing my parents taught me is that you can’t run from everything. You have to face it head on. Good things will come eventually… At least that’s what the Darhma taught us at the Temple when we were kids.”
Constance reached into her pocket and pulled out a small thin hard drive.
“What is that?” he asked.
“A black mail file on key political figures and clients,” Constance explained.
“Let me guess,” Sulla sighed tiredly. “If I don’t release her then Euphemia will release the information on this drive taking down the whole government?” Wouldn’t have been the first time someone had tried to black mail him.
“You tend to think the worst of people don’t you?” Constance wondered.
“I’m afraid I’ve been in this game long enough to know that when you corner a rat the rat fights back.”
“Well you’re wrong,” Constance spoke confidently, her emerald eyes twinkling. “Lady Euphemia wants to show you that she’s a valuable ally.” She handed the drive to Sulla who’s eyes shined with interest. “With her network of spies she can help you rise as high as you would like.”
“Lady Euphemia believes that people respond better to the carrot than the stick.”
“No doubt,” Sulla placed the hard drive on his pristine plate then returned his attention to Constance, his blue eyes drawn to her neck once more. “And I assume you are a part of the carrot?”
Constance turned away taking a sip of wine hoping it would harden her resolve as well as loosen her inhibitions. Sulla boldly removed Constance’s hood to reveal her cascading ebony locks. Hearing no protest he moved back her hair to reveal her lovely neck. Constance swallowed hard. She began to tremble. Why was she so nervous? She had trained for this.
Sulla felt the silk fabric of Constance’s dress imagining that it was her skin. The coins felt cool on his hot skin made so by his burning desires. Constance’s heart fluttered. Her face flushed as she kept her eyes cast down.
He wanted so badly to touch her, to hold her, to feel her most intimate parts, to press her against him and lose himself completely. “We never really finished our conversation earlier about what they teach you in this school…,” Sulla said his voice husky with growing passion. Constance watched the Viceroy’s fingers as if they would burn a hole in the fabric.
“You want me to show you?” Constance spoke softly.
Sulla moved his hand up to touch Constance’s sleeve. He imagined stripping her of that silk and seeing her in her natural skin. Sulla’s fingers itched to touch her bare skin.
“I would like that,” he whispered, his voice now husky, hungry with desire. Constance stared deep into Sulla’s eyes, his sensuous lips slightly parted, waiting, wanting.
Sulla enclosed his mouth onto hers like a man dying of thirst. His one hand cradled her dark head pulling her closer to him. The other gently felt her soft skin. It was just like silk but so warm and alive. Sulla’s tongue tentatively parted Constance’s full lips and explored the dark warm cave of her mouth. Constance allowed him to kiss and touch her but all the while she was thinking of Dex’s touches. Dex’s kisses. The passion behind them. Here felt wrong…
Constance suddenly pushed Sulla away and jumped back.
“What?” Sulla was bewildered. He looked up at Constance with his cool blue eyes now distressed.
“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have…” Constance suddenly felt naked. “I’m sorry.” Without another word she fled the room leaving Sulla empty, his thirst still not slaked. He had a taste and wanted more.
* * * * *
Euphemia drank more of her drugged wine and gave herself a shot. She was on her last needle. Her symptoms were getting worse. She felt the lump in her breast, it felt so tender she winced when she lightly squeezed it. The drugs she was getting from her personal physician. Very few people knew of her condition now. Perhaps she should tell Constance? Euphemia knew the girl well enough to understand that Constance was a loyal person that was driven by gratefulness and guilt to do the right thing. What that right thing is depends on priorities. Constance came to her a frightened girl but with potential. Defiant at times, Euphemia recalled with some fondness but Constance was an eager student. She wanted to help her family as well as her new one here. Constance would do the right thing…
It could have been the drugs but Euphemia heard a creak of a door. She thought she was hallucinating when she heard a familiar voice:
“Hello, Lady Euphemia…”
Euphemia froze. Her heart stopped for only a beat or two when she turned around to see a ghost. A ghost wearing a black hood.
“Mara…,” Euphemia whispered in amazement. Yet not Mara. She looked different. Mara was of old Earth Hispanic descent. She had big pouty lips and swarthy skin which seemed more tired but strong and lips were now less enthusiastic and more sober. She used to have long curly hair but half of her head was shaved with the rest of her dark brown hair was on her right side. Around her neck was a tattoo like a necklace or collar she could never remove. Early 30s now but all in all still beautiful. Dark eyes more determined.
“It’s been a while I know,” Mara smiled. “You’re still the same.”
“You’ve changed,” not a ghost but flesh and blood after all. “You’re still skinny,” Euphemia miffed. Mara smiled amused. Mara Vega. Stubborn, hard headed girl from Metis Station. Boyish. Mara's stay at Hedone was like having one long migraine for Euphemia. She tried to teach the girl the value and power in submission but Mara was too proud. She would bow before no man. Euphemia sensed that she wished she was born a man. She certainly liked to chase some of the girls on Hedone. Or perhaps it was because of her deformity that Mara was difficult. She had only three fingers on her right hand: an index finger, a middle finger, and a thumb. She was self conscious about it all the time. Mara never told Euphemia where she got it though Euphemia could probably guess it was from some form of punishment.
“You’re still the vain Matron I left behind,” Mara tilted her head to the side, “though you have a bit more wrinkles around your eyes…”
Euphemia’s shock had worn off giving way to indignation. Who did this twiggy drop out think she was?
“What are you doing here?” Euphemia glared daggers at Mara who remained unphased.
“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Mara said simply. She walked around the room inspecting everything without even bothering to ask permission. “I heard about your house arrest and wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help.”
Mara picked up a perfume bottle and sniffed it, “I can’t believe I actually missed this scent. Whenever I smelled lavender I thought of home. Of here.” Euphemia’s outrage gave her strength to get up and take the bottle away from Mara’s calloused hands.
“That was a gift,” Euphemia snapped. “And no. Why does everyone think I’m a helpless old woman?”
“I don’t see you like that but everyone needs help now and then,” Mara spoke with sincerity though her dark eyes were laughing a little. Euphemia placed her perfume bottle down on her vanity.
“I see you still know where all the secret passage ways are,” Euphemia pointed out.
“The question is why haven’t you used them to escape?”
“Running away would say I’m guilty and I’m not,” Euphemia argued. “I’m working on a plan to get myself out of here.” Euphemia was confident.
“I didn’t come to fight,” Mara spoke soberly taking Euphemia a bit off guard. Where was the defiant rebel that caused a fuss whenever she had to dance or wear make up?
“I came here,” Mara continued, “to make an alliance.”
“A what?” Euphemia didn’t think she heard right. “Me make an alliance with you? Last I saw you I remember you saying that being a courtesan was no better than slavery. You hate this institution!”
“The way it is now yes,” Mara declared and Euphemia saw the same passion that once caused her so much strife and admiration. “But we can change it together.”
“Really…,” Euphemia eyed Mara suspiciously.
“When I left here I was an angry teenager who wanted to rebel,” Mara explained. “I wanted to burn down the old system and rebuild it from the ground up but…” Mara sat down on Euphemia’s bed. “That would take too much time and the down trodden women of the Athena Belt need help now more than ever. The Courtesan System may be flawed but like you used to tell me it has it’s advantages.”
Euphemia’s vision began to blur a little bit. The drugs were taking their effects on her now. She wavered into her chair. Mara went to Euphemia’s side, concern in her dark eyes. Euphemia felt a bulge in her throat and reached for her waste bucket. Expelling the contents of her dinner as Mara silently held back her red hair. When Euphemia finished expelling her nutrients she realized that she had revealed a weakness.
“How long have you been sick?” Mara asked.
Euphemia breathed slowly as Mara poured her old mentor a glass of water. There was no point in lying now.
“I felt a lump 2 months ago and I’ve been getting secret treatments,” Euphemia slowly sipped the water, the coolness of the liquid quenching the flames within her throat.
“I assume no one else knows…”
“Get to the point, Mara,” Euphemia snapped. “I’m already dying of breast cancer no need to quicken the end with boredom and vague innuendos.”
“Alright then,” Mara stood beside Euphemia with eyes full of light, “I want you to help me change the system. Let’s make the system better before you meet the reaper.”
“The system hasn’t changed since it was established,” Euphemia criticized. “What makes you think we can change it now as it’s falling apart?”
“It’s the perfect time because it’s falling apart,” Mara impassioned. “Change how the courtesans are as a class,” Mara explained. “First by getting rid of that medieval practice of sterilization.”
“Ha!” Euphemia mocked. “That will never happen. The higher caste like their mistresses sterile so their injured wives may have some dignity.”
“Removing a woman’s ability to have children is robbing her of a choice,” Euphemia rolled her eyes as Mara recited her manifesto, “it turns her into an object to be thrown away.”
“It’s also a way a courtesan can get killed if she has a patron’s child and tried to get some of his estate,” Euphemia recited history. “Competition between heirs regardless who was born on what side of the blanket would cause chaos. The nobles and politicians would never allow such disorder.”
“And when a courtesan retires? What would she have then?”
“Security,” Euphemia said matter-of-factly. “Her parents and siblings all well provided for.”
Mara’s dark brown eyes went cold, sending a slight shiver through Euphemia. Mara said, “I never said so before but I always admired you, Euphemia, but if you don’t join me then you will not survive this war.”
“Now we finally agree on something,” Euphemia’s anger gave her the strength to stand at her full height and tower over her arrogant protege. “Better people than you have threatened me, my dear, and they’re all feeding the potatoes. If my end is to come then so be it but it won’t be by you…”
* * * * *
The next morning Sulla was in an aggravated mood. Constance vexed him. He had gotten a taste of her and now he wanted her entirely. He sensed she was holding something back. Perhaps his spy, Faro, had more information. They met at their usual spot. Faro was leaning casually against the wall turning his switch blade over in his hands, the point of the blade pressed against his skin, strong enough to penetrate but weak enough not to draw blood.
“So, Mr. Faro,” Sulla spoke first. “Anything I should know about our girl?”
“No…,” Faro spoke low. Faro would have to save Dex’s ass. Again. Whether the idiot knew it or not.
* * * * *
“Constance? You didn’t come down for breakfast,” Leila sat on the bed. Constance didn’t even bother to look at her.
“Not hungry,” Constance muttered rolling over. Without asking permission Leila stretched out on the bed next to Constance and stared up at the ceiling.
“So last night…,” Leila attempted to start a conversation.
“A disaster,” Constance rolled onto her back, hands folded on her stomach.
“The sex?”
“We just kissed.”
“So the kiss was bad,” Leila reasoned.
“No,” Constance turned on her side to face Leila who in turn faced her. “The kiss wasn’t that bad actually.”
“Then what?” Leila asked. “Are you trying to draw it out until he helps Hedone?”
Constance struggled with the answer. She sighed and said, “It’s complicated.”
“Can you try to explain it to me?” Leila hated to see Constance so conflicted. She preferred her to smile. She was prettier when she smiled. It wasn’t a lust thing though Constance was very attractive. Leila and Constance had a sister bond that they had been missing since they left their homes. Finally Constance spoke, “When Viceroy Sulla kissed me I was ready for it. I was going to let him do more but something about it all felt… wrong. Like I was hurting someone.”
“Oh my god…,” Leila gasped sitting up on the bed. “You’re in love!”
“What?” Constance sat up abruptly, her face all flushed. “No.” Leila continued to smile and stare at her with her bright eyes. Constance relented, her shoulders fell, “Is it that obvious?”
“It’s Dex isn’t it,” Leila nodded.
“How did you—“
“I saw you together,” Leila explained. “Coming out from behind the tapestry. Then going to Dex’s room…” Leila’s eyes were pert as she bit her lip suppressing her smirk.
“You haven’t told anyone have you,” Constance asked, fear in her green eyes. Leila stared then said, “No. I would never hurt you like that.” Constance hugged Leila fiercely.
“I think Euphemia knows,” Constance said.
“How?”
Constance groaned, “That woman knows everything…”
“So what are you going to do?” Leila asked.
“I don’t know…,” Constance’s eyes were the saddest that Leila had ever seen them. She was about to try and cheer her up, perhaps tell her about Mara and her mission when the secret door opened and a eunuch came saying, “Lady Euphemia wants to see you, Lady Constance.”
* * * * *
“Thank you, Patrick,” Euphemia nodded. The eunuch Patrick bowed then disappeared inside the dark tunnels. “Please sit, Constance,” it sounded more like a request than an order. Constance obeyed.
They sat in silence that seemed to stretch into eternity until Constance couldn’t stand it any longer. But just before she was about to say something Euphemia broke the silence first, “I’m dying.”
Constance was stunned. Euphemia continued, “I have breast cancer. I don’t have much time.” Euphemia got up and sat across from Constance who’s mouth was a bit agape. “Oh close your mouth, child, I told you it’s most unladylike.” Constance did as she was bid and finally asked, “When?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Euphemia leaned forward looking directly into Constance’s eyes. “I know about you and Dex.” Constance said nothing. She looked down, averting Euphemia’s intense gaze.
“I’ve known for some time,” Euphemia went on.
“I’m sorry…,” was all Constance could think of to say.
“Don’t be,” Euphemia bitterly replied. Constance returned her gaze to face Euphemia. “The important thing is that you put an end to it. Now. If we lose the Viceroy then you will have nothing. Your fellow graduates will have nothing.” Constance’s nails dug into the chair, her chest rising and falling at a quick pace as her eyes cast down to the floor. Euphemia smiled a little.
“You know the first time I saw you I thought ‘what a mouse’” Euphemia remembered. Constance waited. “You were such a mousy thing but you have those big emerald eyes and I knew you’d grow up into a beautiful creature… Though you’d make a horrible liar. You’re too honest. The very idea of telling a lie makes you physically ill. Doesn’t make you cut out for this industry. But that honesty is also what makes you so desirable to Sulla. You can care for someone so much you can make him believe anything. You just have to learn how to use it properly.”
“I… I don’t know what to say, Lady Euphemia,” Constance folded her hands in her lap.
“Say ‘no’ to Dex,” Euphemia’s cool blue eyes were actually pleading. “I’ve been where you are. The heart is the loudest voice in your head especially for you which means you’ll suffer more than I did. You have to choose common sense over love every time because your love for family outweighs your romantic love for anyone else.” Euphemia placed her hands on Constance’s folded ones. She squeezed them gently. Constance was still so unsure. She had never seen Euphemia act so… genuine. She never even saw the woman kneel before anyone. Not ever.
“Save us, Constance,” Euphemia begged softly. “Your sisters need you now more than ever.”
What could Constance do? She wished the answer would reveal itself soon. Seeing the conflict on Constance’s pretty face Euphemia decided to pull out the big guns, “There’s also something you should know. About Dex. About who he really is…”
* * * * *
Mara and Leila waited in the shadows of the grotto, hidden from prying eyes. It really was a perfect meeting spot for conspirators as well as lovers.
“That idiot is late again,” Mara muttered.
“I don’t know,” Leila smiled as she wrapped her arms around her lover’s neck. “I kind of like the alone time.” They kissed softly but were interrupted by the very man they were waiting for. Faro whistled lewdly making the girls stop abruptly.
“Oh don’t let me stop ya,” Faro winked.
“Pervert,” Leila glared.
“I’m assuming everything is ready,” Mara returned to business.
“The bomb is set to go off,” Faro reached into his jacket and pulled out a remote with a big red button and an antenna. “Once you hit this button the dinner hall will go boom.”
Mara looked down at the remote, a grim look on her face. Faro frowned, “You’re not going soft on me are you, Vega?”
“I’m committed to the mission…,” Mara retorted. “This was still my home once… allow a girl some room for hesitation.”
“Never pegged you as the sentimental type,” Faro miffed.
“Shows how little you know me,” Mara spat. Faro shrugged. Mara turned to Leila who looked just as conflicted.
“Remember,” Mara told her, “at 10:35 you get out. After that the bomb will go off.”
Leila hesitated. Her thoughts went to Constance who she knew would be injured or worse in the event of the bombing.
“Are we sure this is the best way?” Leila asked. “Is another bomb really the best message to send?”
Faro grunted. Mara ignored Faro and held Leila’s hands.
“Peaceful protests can only get us so far,” Mara affirmed. “The courtesan system is just another form of oppression. If we want it gone completely then we have to destroy the last fortress defending it.” Mara turned to Faro and said, “Once the bomb has gone off I’ll upload my message.” Mara would put on a mask and distort her voice then record herself doing a speech on oppression and how the populace should rise and overthrow such oppression. She was a fabulous orator.
* * * * *
“Grayson is the only other person who talks to Djinn,” Faro explained.
“And you’re sure Mara Vega is Djinn?” Sulla pressed on. “To think it was a woman and not a man.”
“All roads point to her,” Faro affirmed. “She does the recording of each message and uploads it after each attack. The girl has a way with words.”
“We’ll need to catch her in the act or at least the video on her,” Sulla pondered.
* * * * *
Constance leaned on the railing watching the stars. She spotted the planet Europa and dreamed of better dreams. Euphemia told her the ugly truth about Dex. It shook Constance to her core. She rubbed her prayer beads so hard she feared they would break from the pressure.
“I remember when I first met you,” Dex spoke softly his presence startled her. “You were leaning over this same railing…”
“Stop sneaking up on people,” Constance reprimanded him.
“Sorry,” he smiled his roguish smile. “I didn’t come to fight, Constance.”
“You think that smile will make me forgive you don’t you?”
“With this smile,” Dex boasted, “I can get away with everything.”
Constance looked at him, her shoulders tense. She kept a safe distance from him.
“What’s the matter?” Dex asked.
“Why won’t you tell me what your nightmares are about?” she asked directly.
Dex tilted his head and muttered, “I told you… They’re nothing.”
“No one screams in their sleep because of nothing,” Constance countered.
“Constance—“ Dex stepped forward but Constance moved away. “What?”
“Lady Euphemia told me,” Constance confessed. Dex’s face became grave.
“What did she tell you?” he asked somberly.
Constance shifted, keeping her body ready to fly away at any sudden movement.
“She told me that you massacred a lot of people,” she finally said. “The Geronimo Massacre. 6 years ago. The whole crew of the merchant ship Geronimo was carrying refugees from Cressida station. Everyone dead within the hour…”
“Just calm down—“
“No more lies! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m Dex,” he said, arms outstretched, bearing himself to her. “I’m the one who loves you.”
“I don’t know who you are,” Constance fired back. Dex’s gunmetal eyes grew dark, his brow furrowed and he clenched his jaw. His whole body became jittery. Something was itching to come out after 6 years of being buried.
“Fine,” Dex agreed. “You wanna know who I am? I’ll tell you…” Dex took a deep breath. Constance waited, bracing herself for the blow that was about to come and shatter her world. Then Jack let it all out:
“I was a part of the Stygian Corps. We did… terrible things. Things that the EC ordered us to do but… There were times where we went too far. Geronimo was one of them,” Dex leaned on the railing, feeling the weight of his sins crashing down on him. Constance continued to listen intently. “There was intel that Geronimo was a ship allied with Legion. Intel said that they were going to attack some EC buildings on Zagreus, even destroy the water supply leaving thousands without water rations.” Their job was to sweep into Geronimo where most of them were hiding and execute them but it went too far. The Stygian Corps began knocking down doors killing not just the crew but whole families that turned out to be innocent refugees seeking sanctuary from a station that was breaking down. Dex remembered the looks of terror in the faces of the children, the wives, and some of the innocent men he killed. He couldn’t even look himself in the mirror anymore afraid of the stranger staring back at him.
“I was happy that the corps was disbanded…,” Dex said. “The blood on our hands… my hands… I can’t wash that away.” Constance was silent. She looked at him, this stranger that she thought she knew. Every time she was in his arms she was in the arms of a murderer. But then she saw his looks of despair. His body beginning to shake. His eyes glistening with tears. He was a beaten stray in need of a tender hand. Constance touched his shivering shoulder. She embraced him and Dex held fast to her afraid that if he let go he would slip into a void of sorrow and guilt.
“So that’s why you came here,” Constance whispered trying to understand this difficult man that she loved, “to escape persecution or even execution?”
“No… and yes. First I tried hiding inside a bottle and then a buddy found me and told me about becoming an erotic instructor at Hedone. A cushy gig,” Dex said then he laughed wryly. “It’s also why I have this.” Dex showed her the dreaded burn mark that he never talked about. “It was the mark of the Stygian Corps: a scorpion in a crescent.” Constance touched the mark trying to imagine the picture that was once there. “You are so annoying when it comes to seeing the good in everyone and trying to do the right thing that it made me want to do the same. Maybe if I do one decent thing in my life I can make up for some of the bad shit I’ve done,” Dex rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a golden ring.
“You already went through the graduation process,” Dex moved closer, “but there’s still time for you to get out of this. All you have to do is say the word and we’ll run. As far and away as you want.”
“Oh Dex…,” Constance caressed Dex’s face now wet from his tears. Constance didn’t want to admit it but she often had that dream with Dex. Reading her thoughts Dex placed the ring in Constance’s hand and said, “Just think about it, please.”
Dex kissed her troubled lips, warmth spreading through her body. He was like the sun to Constance. The feeling was suddenly hitting her that she may have to live without him. The feeling felt wrong.
Little did Constance know that they had an audience. Sulla was on his way to see her when he caught sight of Dex and Constance in each other’s arms, kissing passionately in the night. A rage awoke inside of him as he watched Constance be in the arms of another man.
* * * * *
“Sir?”
“As dumb as you are I would have chalked that up to some mistake but you don’t make mistakes,” Sulla fumed. Faro stared at the Viceroy blankly. Sulla continued his berating, “Since I couldn’t rely on you for adequate information I had some research done on this Dex Ransom who turns out is ex-Stygian Corps like you. In fact you two were in the same unit. The same unit that massacred the passengers on Geronimo.”
“I didn’t tell you anything because I didn’t think it mattered,” Faro argued.
“Perhaps you were just protecting your old comrade,” Sulla accused. “Admirable. But most unwise.” Sulla’s eyes were like two laser beams ready to fire on Faro.
“Look,” Faro attempted to reason. “You’re a powerful man. Ransom isn’t much competition. There’s no point getting upset about it.”
“It’s not Ransom that’s the problem,” Sulla spoke in a low voice. “It’s made me think that perhaps there are other things you have been keeping from me.” Sulla and Faro stared each other down, one a hardened veteran and the other a calculating politician. If either had the chance they would take each other out in a minute. “Members of the Stygian Corps are practically wanted criminals,” Sulla threatened. “As you said I am a powerful man. People owe me a few favors.”
Faro’s nostrils flared as he growled, “Don’t forget, Viceroy, I have so much dirt on you that it would fill a grave. All those missions and assignments I’ve done. Assassinations.”
Sulla’s once bright blue eyes grew cold like icicles.
“It seems we have a noose around each other’s necks,” Sulla realized. Perhaps it was time to find a new spy.
* * * * *
Despite the recent house arrest Euphemia was still allowed to arrange the annual Patron banquet. Many key members or at least their sons were going to be there to pick out a courtesan. It was like a match maker’s ball.
“Almost ready, partner?” Lupa asked sweetly. The word “partner” sounded like a spike in Euphemia’s brain.
“Technically we’re not partners yet,” Euphemia explained coolly. “I haven’t really decided.”
“In the event of your arrest or any other foul play I’m to be interim Matron of Hedone,” Lupa reminded her.
“And I have no doubt that you will be praying for my arrest,” Euphemia placed her bejeweled veil on her cascading hair made copper with age. Or perhaps Lupa knew something that Euphemia didn’t given her confidence.
* * * * *
It was his favorite view. Zagreus was in clear sight of Europa, the planet that would one day be called home by everyone in the Athena Belt. The sight always gave Dex a small glint of hope.
“Nice view,” Faro knew how to ruin every moment. It was his greatest talent. Dex refused to even look at his old comrade.
“What do you want now, Faro?”
“I remember when you and me were the best of friends,” Faro recalled. “We told each other everything. We had each other’s backs. Now it seems I’m the one who’s getting all the hits for you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Dex turned to meet Faro who’s shoulders were hunched over, jaw clenched, eyes so full of hate and pain.
“You changed after Geronimo,” Faro’s voice was taut. “You couldn’t look me in the eye and the day we were disbanded you disappeared into the lowest bars of the Belt. But I saved you. I got you this job with the rebels that got you this cushy gig. I got you on your feet and I don’t even get a thank you.”
“I didn’t ask you to save me!” Dex cried.
“We’re brothers you don’t have to,” Faro exclaimed with equal anger.
“Yeah we’re brothers,” Dex hissed. “Which is how I know your hissy fits are always about something else. Say it or I’m walking.”
Faro hesitated. Then he said, “Sulla knows about you and Constance. He saw you.”
“How do you know that?” Dex figured it out the minute he said it.
“I told you I’d always watch your back and I saw him watching you give Constance that little ring of yours.”
Dex’s shoulders slumped as he leaned on the railing.
“Sulla is no joke, Ransom,” Faro warned. “Let’s get the dirt on him and get out of here. Let him have his toy.”
Dex turned on Faro, punching him in the nose. He heard a small crack. Faro fell back then held his nose, hunching over groaning in pain. Faro looked in his hands to see a small pool of blood. He felt his nose was bent and bruised.
“Fine,” Faro’s voice was thick and cutting. “Get yourself killed. See if I care.”
* * * * *
It was like nothing had changed. Despite its lack of funds the House of Hedone Patron Banquet didn’t give the impression that the house was in debt at all. Thousands of candles were alight, incense of rose and lavender wafted through the room having everyone giving into a romantic mood. Even the food was a menu of aphrodisiacs to make mouths salivating as well as other juices: oysters & shrimp (found beneath the frozen surface of the moon, larger and more succulent), pomegranates, figs, etc. All was meant to promote the illusion of romance. While these factors fueled the lust of the patrons it was up to Euphemia’s girls to hook these big fishes in their nets. It was all about the fantasy.
Constance kept touching the simple gold ring that Dex gave her, it clinking against the prayer beads she had laced between her fingers. However, tonight he was nowhere in sight. She shouldn’t have been looking for him but she was. Somehow seeing his ridiculous cynical smiling face would put her much more at ease. Perhaps she should put the ring on. A life with a man who loved her seemed more appealing than the unsure one she was seeing now. A relationship built on trust and devotion and not on the fear that at any moment her man may get bored and she’d have the rough task of ensnaring another patron.
Just as Constance was about to consider running from this dance hall and leaving it all behind Aurelia flopped right in front of her.
“Constance of Hedone all alone!” Surprisingly though Aurelia didn’t look like her usual imperious self. “Pretty girl such as yourself? Seems odd. Did you not bathe or something?”
“What do you want, Aurelia?”
“Relax,” Aurelia handed Constance a glass of wine. “We’re all on the same side here.”
“Really? Doesn’t sound like you at all,” Constance raised an eye brow at her rival. Constance eyed the glass with suspicion. Aurelia shrugged.
“Do what you want you always have,” Aurelia said.
“What does that mean?”
“Despite your little meekness act which I never bought by the way,” Aurelia sounded matter-of-factly, “you never took a lesson seriously. You start out fine in practice but the minute someone says something you don’t like you get all puffy and insulted. Ironically that’s why so many men like you.”
“Wow… I don’t know if you’re insulting me or complimenting me,” Constance shifted in her seat.
“That’s another of your problems,” Aurelia stabbed. “I’m stating a fact that’s all. You speak from the heart, which is why I don’t think you’re cut out for this kind of life.”
“You and Euphmeia seem to agree…,” Constance rolled her eyes at the memory. “My family is counting on me. I can’t fail them.”
“Don’t think of it as failure,” Aurelia sounded sincere, a bit kinder. “Think of it as a change in career. You’re not fertile anymore but you can still do other stuff to support your family that won’t require much dishonesty.”
Constance looked over to see Sulla preoccupied with another student. He seemed completely engrossed with the spicy red head but Constance could see that he was not enflamed with passion for the red head as he was for Constance that one night at their dinner.
“Besides,” Aurelia retorted, “seems like Sulla has already found a new favorite. Give up and go to bed. Things will be different in the morning.” That last part sounded very cryptic. Like Aurelia knew something that Constance didn’t. Aurelia left Constance alone with her words eating away at her confidence. Constance once more looked at Dex’s ring. She needed some air.
* * * * *
Mara planted the bomb in the banquet hall behind a painting, a replica of an Old Earth piece of art. Dionysius coming to Ariadne after she was abandoned by Theseus. Soon they would all come in from the dance hall to eat and once they were all seated Mara would detonate. She looked around the hall with it’s glitter and pomp. Despite it’s representation the place was still beautiful; a testament to Old Earth origins while keeping a progressive style. It seemed almost a sin that it would have to be blown up.
* * * * *
Dex waited for the guards to leave their posts. Faro had offered to play them at a game of cards. Soldiers couldn’t resist a chance to win extra credits. Once they were gone, Dex could slip into Sulla’s room. There was still a problem with cameras. Dex knew where the wires to the cameras were. He took out the marble style panel in the wall outside Sulla’s room and placed a “bug” on the wire connecting to the security cameras in Sulla’s room. The bug would send an electrical charge disabling the cameras for at least 23 minutes. So Dex had no time to waste.
Looking around Dex couldn’t help but judge the Viceroy’s taste in decor. Sulla liked Old Earth art in statues from Mesopotamia and Sumeria. Some Roman bust of Julius Caesar. Dex wrinkled his nose scrutinizing the art with critical distaste. But he couldn’t waste time on critiquing artwork. Dex came to Sulla’s office and opened the computer screen on Sulla’s sleek desk. A holographic screen popped up asking for a voice confirmation and password. Dex reached into his pocket and pulled out a voice distorter. The rebels had collected some sound bites from Julian Sulla’s speeches at the Senate. Once he got through that Dex took out a USB drive and inserted it into an outlet on the desk. The USB drive contained a code breaking code. Now Dex could search for the remaining 19 minutes.
Yet just as he was about to check some of the files he heard a honeyed feminine voice, “Naughty boy.”
Dex looked up to see Lupa smirking at him like a cat who had just cornered a mouse. Dex froze. However, Lupa laughed.
“Relax, handsome,” she soothed. “I’m not here to turn you in… no that depends entirely on you.”
Dex’s hand drifted to his knife.
“You wouldn’t kill a woman would you?” Lupa arched an elegantly groomed eyebrow.
“The cameras are off,” Dex grimaced. “I can do just about anything I want.”
“I can see why Euphemia fancies you,” Lupa smiled. “I’m here to help you.”
“Why would you help me?”
“We want the same thing,” Lupa took out another USB drive.
“I doubt it,” Dex frowned, his blue eyes cold.
Lupa took out a small slate then planted the USB drive on it’s side. Suddenly codes sprung from the drive revealing autopsy reports. “You think Sulla would be dumb enough to keep incriminating evidence on his computers?” Lupa asked rhetorically.
“Where the hell did you get those?” Dex was ready to fight for them if he had to.
“I have contacts everywhere, love,” Lupa sighed. Suddenly Dex had his cold blade to Lupa’s dark throat.
“Give them to me,” he growled.
“But oh how would you clean up the blood in time?” Lupa asked unafraid. “Where would you stash my body? The cameras should be back on in 14 minutes. Not enough time. I should know.”
“Give me the files and we won’t find out,” Dex sounded determined but Lupa could see in his eyes a glint of indecision.
“Here,” Lupa handed Dex the USB drive. “Consider it a gift.”
Dex pocketed the drive looking at Lupa suspiciously.
“We both want the same thing,” Lupa said. “A fresh start.”
Dex had what he wanted though Lupa’s words stuck to him in a bad way.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. Dex quickly made his way to the door.
“Don’t worry,” Lupa called after him. “You will.”
* * * * *
Now it was time to eat. Something to absorb the alcohol that had everyone so giddy except for Constance and Sulla who were unfortunately seated at the same table. Fortunately he wasn’t there. Aurelia was supposed to be seated next to her as well but pleaded sickness. Too much alcohol. Leila was supposed to be there as well but she curiously absent. Constance needed at least one friend at this table.
Most of the staff was hired from the villages as Euphemia had to let most of her professional staff go due to low funds. The way they scattered this way and that around the tables like rats in the sewer was enough to make Euphemia ill. Constance better hook Sulla tonight or they may not hold the school open for much longer. However, he seemed to be absent as well.
Once the guests and students were seated Euphemia pinged her glass to get everyone’s attention.
“Thank you all for coming,” Euphemia’s voice rang through out the hall like a bell, clear and loud. She knew how to capture an audience. “Welcome to the House of Hedone.” Lupa sat at another far table charming a few high officials. Everyone applauded in agreement with Euphemia. Her smile was enough to dwarf any kind of light in the room.
Once it died down Euphemia continued, raising a glass to Lupa and said, “I welcome especially my old friend Lupa who hasn’t let her recent troubles deter her from living on.” Euphemia’s bite was noted. “We’ve certainly had our differences over the years but she and I have been through the same trials. This life is not an easy one despite our glamour and charm. I’ve seen how heartless the world can be but as long as one has a resilient spirit one can accomplish great things.”
Lupa raised her glass in accord with Euphemia. Everyone raised a glass in unison. “Now I know these are uncertain times but I assure you we will never let anyone turn out the lights of Hedone,” Euphemia finished. Everyone responded with a “Here, here.”
“To Hedone,” Lupa cried out. Everyone followed and clinked their glasses. Leila suddenly came sneaking into the hall and tugged on Constance’s arm. Everyone looked to see what the commotion was about.
“Constance,” she pleaded.
“Leila, what are you doing? Where have you been?” Constance resisted but Leila was strong for a slim figure.
“There’s no time,” Leila hurried. “There’s a bomb and it’s about to—“
BOOM! Like a clap of thunder with the force of a sudden gust of wind the people in the room went flying. Those closest to the painting where the bomb was hidden were worst, dead. Others were seriously injured coughing from the dust and bleeding internally as well as outwardly from the shrapnel. Leila had covered Constance with her body. Leila got the full blast. Her body limp as it draped over Constance who maintained some cuts and bruises from the fall.
Constance had a ringing in her ears. She couldn’t move her body numb from the shock. She looked around to see everyone in a panic, on the floor not moving, or limping over the rubble. Constance’s senses began to return to her slowly and luckily she could move though every bone in her body hurt.
“Leila…” Constance coughed. There was no answer.
“Constance!”
Sulla appeared and helped Leila off Constance gently.
“Are you alright?” he asked concern and fear written all over his face.
“I… I…,” Constance couldn’t find the words. Her brain was still in a cloud of fog.
“Don’t try to move… You’re bleeding,” Sulla smooth back Constance’s hair. That’s when Constance felt warm sticky liquid running down her face. She gingerly touched her head and saw blood dripping from her fingers. “That’s a deep gash,” Sulla warned. Suddenly Constance remembered Leila.
“Oh God,” Constance’s eyes swelled with tears. The girl she thought of as a real sister lay dead on the floor. After saving her life. Without thinking she cradled Leila’s body as if she were only sleeping. Praying in vain for her to wake up.
“I’m sorry, Constance,” Sulla said trying to feel Leila for a pulse. “She’s gone.” Constance held the body closer to her and wept uncontrollably not caring who saw.
Dex arrived too late. He searched the room desperately for any sign of Constance only to find her with Sulla weeping over Leila’s bloody and broken corpse. She wasn’t the only one. Mara watched frozen from a distance. What happened? The bomb was only supposed to go off when she pressed the button but when she saw Leila… Mara had hesitated only for a minute waiting for Leila to clear but the bomb went off anyway. What happened? Mara’s eyes were glazed over hoping that this was a nightmare and that she would wake up soon. She kept pinching herself but all that did was leave bruises and make her tears fall faster not from the physical pain but the agony she felt in her heart…
* * * * *
Leila was one of the students who died in the bombing two days ago. Dex watched Constance stand by Leila’s body, trying to appear strong but on the inside he knew she was on the edge of breaking. Myrrh incense cloaked the room attempting to mask the scent of death. No longer wearing glittering saris, Constance and the surviving staff and students wore only black. Constance wore an ink black hood attached to a vest with sheer flowing sleeves and flowing pants that when she stood still made it look like she was wearing an elegant dress. Wrapped around her wrist were obsidian prayer beads with a black tassel swinging from the end. Despite the white bandage around her head, Constance was even more lovely. Perhaps her sadness added a more special allure.
Dex knew how close Constance was to Leila. He should be with Euphemia who was on bed rest from her ordeal. She was extremely lucky, the physician had said. She only caught the wind of the blast. A piece of shrapnel had lodged deep into her thigh missing the several artery. Lucky. She would live. As such Dex didn’t feel the need, no, have the patience to play the devoted and patient lover right now. Right now his guilt was eating away at him like maggots eating at a rotten potato. He had no idea the rebellion was going to plant a bomb. But he knew who would have known. Faro. That bastard. Dex’s guilt gradually turned to anger at his former brother-at-arms. It was Geronimo all over again.
Just as Dex was fantasizing about the things he’d do to that slimy son of a bitch he heard Sulla’s deep tenor voice that felt like ice, “The bomb was set on a timer.”
Dex said nothing. He didn’t even turn around afraid of what he might do to the Viceroy his anger was reaching a boiling point.
“Rebels wanting to make a statement,” Sulla continued. “They didn’t seem to care about any casualties. One of the reasons why they must be stopped.”
“That’s you’re job isn’t it?” Dex retorted. “So far you suck at it.”
Sulla smiled, amused by Dex’s biting tone.
“A job I could do better with help,” Sulla said. “If I had the right people I could make people safer. I could make Constance safer. It would be a shame for someone so young and beautiful to meet such an untimely end.”
Dex rounded on Sulla, eyes of flame meeting eyes of cool.
“The only way Constance can become safer is to get as far away from this world as much as possible,” Dex spoke hoarse with rage.
“You sure about that?” Sulla narrowed his eyes. “Or is your judgement a bit more biased than that?” Sulla was accusing Dex of something but he wasn’t going to bite. Not here. Not while Constance was in sight and grieving.
As Dex was about to counter a servant girl came with a message for him.
“Lady Euphemia is asking for you,” she said. With one last begrudging look at Sulla, Dex left with the servant girl. The Viceroy looked triumphant. At least he won this round…
Constance sat with Aurelia near Leila’s body. The body was draped in a gossamer white veil, her body arranged in a stately fashion like a picture they saw once of the Lady of Shallot as she was born away on a boat on a river. Her body rested on bouquets of white gardenias. Mixed with the myrrh it created an intoxicating yet suffocating perfume in the room.
“Seems pointless…,” Aurelia spoke casually though her eyes glistened with tears. “They’re just going to recycle her for the crops at the agri-station.”
“It could just as easily have been you,” Constance retorted. Illness had saved Aurelia though the sorrow on her face seemed to go deeper than that.
Aurelia would have fired back but the loss of Leila pained her as well. She only sat silently with Constance as the embalmers finished their job and left the women to say their final good byes.
“You know Leila would find this a bit morbid,” Constance pointed out.
“She’d want a yellow shroud,” Aurelia complemented, “something sunnier.”
Constance rested her hand on Aurelia’s who squeezed it in her own. Neither wished to let loose the dam of tears they had built over the last few years in training. Courtesans were pillars of fortitude. They were the suns in their patrons’ lives so they must always shine…
“My deepest sympathies for your loss, ladies,” Sulla spoke gently. Constance looked up while Aurelia already felt a tear about to escape her eye. Aurelia only nodded to acknowledge the Viceroy’s presence. Constance compensated, “Thank you, Viceroy. My sister and I appreciate them.”
Aurelia was too consumed with grief to care about Sulla’s attention. Instead Constance said, “Aurelia, why don’t you go with our other sisters and tell them to come and pay their respects.” Aurelia agreed giving a short curtsy to the Viceroy then quickly leaving before her dam of tears broke let loosing a waterfall.
“How are you?” Sulla asked. “Really.”
“As well as can be expected,” Constance got up and knelt before Leila’s lovely corpse, the prayer beads hanging around her folded hands as she prayed. Sulla waited for her to say more but Constance was too consumed in praying to unwritten gods for comfort to further register his presence.
“I’m sorry about your sister but I can’t say I’m sad that she received most of the blast,” Sulla said softly. Constance rounded on Sulla, her voice hoarse, “How could you say something like that?”
“She saved your life,” Sulla explained calmly. “The very thought that you could have—“ Sulla stopped, afraid to give life to that terrifying thought. “I can’t stand the thought of seeing you on that plaque.”
Constance bit her lip to fight the sobs that threatened to escape her pretty mouth. Sulla wanted so much to ease her suffering. Ease some of the burden.
“My wife, Lucretia, died of an illness,” Sulla began. “She was the brightest, kindest, and most beautiful person I had ever met. She never cared about my humble origins. I was the dirty son of a farmer and she was a Senator’s daughter. Practically royalty.”
Constance turned to Sulla and listened intently.
“Lucretia was only 23, around your age, when she died,” Sulla remembered. “Childbirth.”
“I’m so sorry,” Constance came closer. They were close enough to touch but there was some invisible veil between them that prevented one or the other from venturing further.
“Our son survived. William. People came and gave us their sympathies,” Sulla continued becoming lost in the memory. “But none of them truly knew her. They just wanted to seek favors. They didn’t care that I just lost a companion and my son a mother. A mother he will never know…”
“He’ll know her from the stories you tell him,” Constance broke through the veil and touched Sulla’s shoulder. Sulla smiled.
“You remind me a lot about her you know,” Sulla smiled. “I think that’s why I’m so drawn to you. That kindness. That compassion is the only thing that can be a light in my world of darkness.” Sulla reached for Constance and held her close.
“Constance…,” Sulla pleaded. “Be my courtesan.”
“Viceroy…,” Constance choked. “This is hardly the time.”
“This is the perfect time,” Sulla enforced. “What happened at the banquet could happen again. If you were with me then you would be safe. Leila’s death was an attack. I could keep you safe. No one would ever hurt you again.” Constance thought about it but all she wanted to do now was find Dex and be in his arms.
“I can’t…,” Constance wanted to say she loved someone else. “I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry.” Constance fled the room leaving Sulla in the haze of desire and myrrh…
* * * * *
Dex had left Euphemia. It was a very bitter sweet meeting. Disillusionment provided cold clarity for Euphemia. She was already at Death’s door and told him that he was free.
“No point in denying it,” she had said. “Go wherever you choose. Don’t concern yourself with the whims of a dying old woman.”
“I never thought of you as ‘old’,” Dex admitted. Euphemia smiled then said, “Still the charmer if not a complete liar.” Dex smirked then gave Euphemia a gentle kiss on the forehead. A goodbye kiss. But Euphemia was still determined to give Constance to Sulla. The school came first. It was her only baby and she would see it taken care of. That’s fine. As long as the rebellion didn’t stand in his way then he was going to have to take Constance away himself. Just as he was about to make his way to her, Dex was pulled roughly into the darkness of an unlit hall way. His assailant threw him against the stone wall so hard Dex was temporarily paralyzed from the shock of the impact.
“Where do you think you’re headed off to?” Dex recognized the hoarse voice. Faro had caught up to him.
“You!” Dex cried out then fought back. He kneed Faro in the groin. Faro fell back then Dex punched him in his already broken nose. Dex attempted to escape but Faro recovered quickly and tackled Dex to the ground, pinning him underneath his bulk. Dex was face up. Faro wanted him to look at him. He wouldn’t stab his fellow soldier in the back like some assassin for Dex could see murder in Faro’s eyes.
“So what are you going to do, Faro?” Dex asked.
“I tried to save you,” Faro said getting out his knife. “But every time I tried to lend you a hand you smacked it away.”
“You blew up the banquet hall,” Dex held his hands up trying to buy time and find away out of this mess. “Constance could have died.”
“She was supposed to die along with that other bitch who had you on a leash. I was trying to set you free, brother…,” Faro bent forward putting more pressure on Dex’s chest. Dex got a hold of Faro’s wrist, the hand with the knife trying to stop it’s descent and turn it around.
“You screwed yourself,” Faro spoke in strangled voice. The blade came near to Dex’s throat. “I’m sorry…,” Faro mourned. Just when Dex thought he was done for there was a BANG of a gun then another click. Faro fell over, a pool of blood accumulating from his wound in his back in his right shoulder blade. Free from Faro’s oppressive weight Dex quickly got to his feet.
“Constance wasn’t the only one you were trying to kill were you, Faro?” Dex recognized the sly voice of the Viceroy. “I was supposed to be there as well. If not for a thankful tip then I would be dead right now.”
Faro said nothing. His defiant dark eyes flashing at the Viceroy.
“You choose silence,” Sulla said with a malevolent smirk. “No matter. Your employment with me has been terminated.” Without another word Sulla fired another shot point blank into Faro’s head. Just like that he was gone. Dex just stood there in some shock until he realized the truth.
“Faro was your mole in the rebellion,” Dex realized. “For how long?”
“Since the beginning,” Sulla knelt down by Faro’s lifeless body. He searched Faro’s pockets taking out a small cylinder that Dex had never seen before.
“What’s that?” Dex asked.
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Sulla sighed then he turned his gun on Dex. Dex froze. “Now,” Sulla continued, “you and I have business.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dex held his hands up while his survival instincts went through their paces trying to figure a way of this.
“Let’s be honest right now, Ransom,” Sulla sighed. “We both know what I’m talking about.”
Dex’s shoulders fell as he sighed, “Constance.”
“I’m not the sort of man to let something or someone go so easily, and I can see that neither are you but,” Sulla grinned. “I think we can come to some agreement.”
“Doubt it.”
“Oh but you haven’t heard my proposal yet,” Sulla said confidently. “Come on what have you got to lose?” Sulla held his gun steadily focused on Dex. Dex sighed then nodded.
* * * * *
Euphemia was still too weak to sit up. Her cancer followed by the wounds from the explosion were enough to make every fiber of her being ache. Every time she moved a shock of pain shot through her like lightning. Luckily she had her own pain relieving remedies but they were hidden in her drawer on the other side of the room. Just then she heard the door open.
“Oh finally,” Euphemia sighed with great relief. “About time you showed up I’m in dire need of some pain relief. Go in my desk—“ Euphemia turned her head slightly to try and see who it was but she saw the one person she didn’t expect to see at all after their last meeting.
“Hello, Lady Euphemia,” Mara spoke quietly.
What color remained in Euphemia’s face was immediately drained. Then anger flashed in her eyes, “What do you want? Come to finish the job?”
Mara sat by Euphemia’s bedside without invitation. She was always so bold.
“I’ve just come to see how you were doing,” Mara said demurely.
“To see if I’m still alive?” Euphemia spoke wryly. “Well here I am. I’m not going on my final voyage yet, Mara! Next time you’ll want to put the bomb directly under the table of the person you want to kill next time you want to get rid of them.” Mara mixed the pain killing drugs in Euphemia’s water and held the glass to Euphemia’s lips. Euphemia only kept glaring.
“I wasn’t trying to kill you,” Mara explained. She paused then said, “Leila’s dead.” Euphemia could actually smell the perfume of sorrow and pain hanging around her old student. Euphemia sat up a little. Mara placed the unzipped glass on the dresser next to the bed.
“That’s what happens when a bomb goes off,” Euphemia snorted.
“That wasn’t the plan,” Mara angrily cried. Euphemia heard the pain in Mara’s voice. She looked into her old protege’s cool gunmetal eyes to see them blurry with tears. It suddenly occurred to Euphemia that Leila belonged to Mara. They were friends or lovers but Mara knew Leila intimately enough to be this affected by the girl’s passing. Something within Euphemia stirred. A sympathy perhaps? Without much thought Euphemia touched Mara’s hand.
“I told you that falling in love is always a mistake,” Euphemia chided gently.
“You seem to have broken your own rule with Dex Ransom,” Mara countered.
It was true. She loved him. Her jealousy of Dex and Constance was more than just annoyance. It was love for Dex. But that didn’t matter now.
“Why did you have to get involved with the rebels?” Euphemia sighed, a disappointed look on her face.
“I wanted to make a difference,” Mara confessed. “Whenever I put on that mask and make those propaganda videos I feel like I’m inspiring others to fight. This system is suffocating us! It has to end.”
“You were always impulsive… and stubborn,” Euphemia mourned. “I tried to teach you consequences of your actions would lead to your destruction but life has always been a more harsh instructor than I.”
“I was always difficult I know but,” Mara sniffed, no longer to keep the tears at bay. “I always admired your fortitude and that’s what I tried to be.”
“Glad I made an impression,” Euphemia said her eyes growing soft. “Though now I think you should take my advice and run before—”
Just as Euphemia finished that sentence a battalion of soldiers burst into the room. Leading the way was Viceroy Sulla and right behind him was Lupa with her plush ebony lips upturned into a satisfied smile.
“Mara Vega,” Sulla smiled. “Or should I call you Djinn?”
Mara attempted to run but a soldier got a shot off which hit her in the knee cap knocking her down in mid step. Mara gripped her knee, scrunched up on the floor as she groaned in agony. Two soldiers forced her to her feet. Even when she was beaten, Mara still fought back like a tigress, growling and barring her teeth wildly. Sulla approached her, his smug smile meeting her furious gaze.
“No matter,” Sulla shrugged. He turned to Euphemia and bowed, “Thank you, Lady Euphemia, your cooperation has been much appreciated. You’re a true loyal citizen.”
Mara’s rage turned to dark revelation on Euphemia who for once avoided all eye contact.
“I did what I did for Hedone,” Euphemia explained coolly. She suddenly turned to Mara, “I will always choose Hedone.” The hurt on Mara’s face was to be expected but to still witness it was a blow. Euphemia really was getting soft in her old age. The soldiers dragged Mara who acted as dead weight the whole way. She was defeated. Lupa went over to the head board of Euphemia’s bed and pulled out a small radio.
“The whole conversation was recorded,” Lupa beamed as she handed it to Sulla’s willing hands. “You have your terrorist.”
“Ladies,” Sulla bowed shortly then walked out.
Lupa was happy but she turned to see Euphemia less so.
“Don’t be so glum,” Lupa said. “You’ll give yourself more wrinkles.” Euphemia wasn’t in the mood for a cat fight.
“You got what you wanted,” Euphemia spoke in a sullen tone. “Now would you please give me my medicine so I can black out this whole ordeal.”
Lupa nodded pulling out the full bag of drugs from the drawer. Euphemia had a coughing fit as Lupa poured in more than the required dose. She offered the glass to Euphemia who weakly accepted it… but Lupa wouldn’t stop pouring it down Euphemia’s throat. Euphemia tried to move her head but Lupa held it steady.
“Shh Shhh, old friend,” Lupa soothed. “You can finally rest knowing that Hedone is in good hands.” Euphemia’s eyes widened in fear. Then her blue eyes glazed over as the drugs took their effect. It was like drifting off to sleep. The darkness closed in until everything went pitch black.
* * * * *
Constance sat in the grotto watching the fish make ripples. This was where she and Dex first saw each other. She admired the simple gold ring on her finger. It felt right somehow. The thought of being with Dex felt right. The moment Sulla asked her to be his a light suddenly turned on. To leave Persephone. Leave Dex. It seemed wrong.
“Constance…,” Dex called. The minute Constance saw Dex she ran to him.
“Dex!” Constance was so excited that she didn’t realize that Dex had a weight in his step. When she looked up to see him she noticed his bright blue eyes didn’t have their usual light.
“What’s wrong?” she asked a bit confused by Dex’s sudden distance. Her heart skipped a few uneasy beats.
“I can’t be with you, Constance,” Dex spoke simply. For a moment Constance didn’t think she heard right. Then it sunk in.
“What happened?” Constance was eager to know. Fear began to slowly grope Constance’s throat gradually stopping her from breathing.
“Nothing,” Dex avoided Constance’s watchful emerald eyes though it hurt him worse than any physical wound to do so. “I just thought it over and you were right. It would never work for us.”
“That’s not what you said before…,” Constance wasn’t buying it. “You were so adamant that we should run away and every time you asked I said no but when I finally say yes you change your mind? Something happened.” Dex remained silent.
“If this is about what you told me,” Constance ventured, “about your past. I don’t care what you did in the past. We’ve all done bad things.”
“What I did wasn’t just bad, Constance,” Dex clenched his fists as his voice became harsh. “I’m a mass murderer! I’m a killer! There’s so much darkness in me that anyone close will get swallowed up by it!” Dex pulled away from Constance. He had to do this. It was what he was good at.
“Besides,” he continued bitterly, “you told me that you did this for your family. Don’t let that sacrifice be for nothing. Don’t let it be for me…”
“Please don’t do this…,” Constance begged. Her world seemed to be falling a part. “Don’t tell me you love me then say it was all a mistake please…”
“Constance…,” Dex tried to sound firm but Constance wasn’t convinced.
“Why are you saying these things?” Constance’s voice broke. “Why are you trying to break my heart?”
Dex stood resolute, his face made of stone, voice cold, “Don’t make this any harder, Constance. I could never be with someone who isn’t truly a woman.” The color drained from Constance’s face. A tear fell down her cheek. Dex thought he heard it “ping” when it hit the ground amid the deafening silence after what he just said. Dex had shattered her world. He turned without a word, every inch further away from Constance was like a sharp knife being twisted into his stomach.
“You said it yourself a million times,” Dex explained. “You’re not a real woman if you can’t have children. You’re just a toy for others to play with. So I played with you and had my fun… now it’s time for it to end.” Constance suddenly felt very cold. She felt that she had no legs to stand on so she fell back against a tree for support. She couldn’t feel anything…
“I’m sorry,” Dex spoke with more sympathy.
“So am I…,” Constance finally spoke as the tears blurred her vision of the world. “Thank you…” Constance looked up at him, her face now blank and cool like steel. “Thank you for not letting me make a huge… devastating mistake.” They stood facing each other for what felt like eternity. Then Dex walked away. It took all of his strength not to run back to tell her the real reason.
Unable to stand the echoing silence any more Constance let it all out. She let out whimpers that turned into full sobs which haunted Dex. No matter how far he got he could still hear Constance crying.
* * * * *
Sulla was watching from a distance. It may had been night but inside Sulla felt like a summer day. Lupa joined him on the balcony that had a perfect view of the enclosed grotto.
“You look pleased,” Lupa chirped.
“It’s been a good day,” Sulla seemed close to bursting into song. “We caught Djinn, Legion has been dealt a major blow and now will be scrambling to regroup… and we have a new mole in the rebellion with Ransom on our team.”
“As well as a new muscle for you to exercise,” Lupa figured.
“But of course,” Sulla smiled broadly. “That’s what the Stygian Corps was for.”
“And you have your little flower to place in your own garden,” Lupa finished. “But what makes you think Ransom won’t turn on you?”
“Because he’s a man in love,” Sulla reasoned. “Men in love will do anything no matter how dark or desperate it is for the sake of the one they love.” Lupa eyed Sulla knowingly. She was enough of a woman to know when a man took a woman it was more than for business. She recognized possessiveness.
“Well done.”
“I’m enough of a man to admit when I had help in my success,” Sulla beamed at Lupa who gave him a side smile. “Thank you again for warning me of the explosion.”
“It was my civic duty,” Lupa tilted her head, leering at the Viceroy.
“And I trust you’re happy with your new situation?”
“Sometimes Euphemia could be too sentimental,” Lupa sighed. “She wasn’t as strong as she always thought. Tomorrow morning her servants will find her body lying peacefully in her bed. So overcome with the pain from her terminal cancer and the betraying of a former student, Euphemia overdosed on her pain medication.”
“Morphine is dangerous stuff,” Sulla marveled. “I don’t know why people still take it.”
“The things we want most are often the most dangerous,” Lupa spoke sagely. “The things that can destroy us give us the most thrill.”
* * * * *
Morning came but Constance couldn’t feel the sun’s warmth. First Leila then Euphemia. They found Euphemia in her bed, dead from an overdose. Others say she died of a broken heart. As the undisputed heir in Euphemia’s will Lupa was now the Matron of Hedone. Not much of a prize.
Constance sat in the garden staring at the Koi pond, the fish weaving their way through the lily pad stems. She just wanted to submerge herself in the water. Everything was silent under the water. She could block out the world and drown out her sobs. Her eyes were puffy and sore and her throat sore. Aurelia didn’t ask or tease her about it. Too much death. Too much grief for rivalries to continue. Aurelia herself wasn’t around. She said she needed a breather.
“If only I were a fish…,” Constance spoke aloud her voice hoarse.
“Would you prefer an ocean or a pond?” Constance turned to see the Viceroy smiling kindly at her.
“Wouldn’t matter,” Constance replied quietly. They stared at each other unsure of what to say until Constance realized, “I’m sorry I have no manners at all this week. Sit down please.”
“No need to apologize,” Sulla sat next to Constance and watched the fish with her.
“Why a fish?” he asked curiously. “Most people I know wish to be birds. To fly away from all their troubles.”
“I always liked fish,” Constance shrugged. “Besides those troubles are still there when you land.”
“But fish swim constantly,” countered Sulla. “You stop. You sink.”
“It wouldn’t be far to fall,” chuckled Constance. They sat in silence. Sulla breathed in Constance’s lilac perfume. They were close enough to touch but still there remained a veil that Sulla so wanted to rip back and take her into his arms. It was mostly lust but something else too.
“I never told anyone about my wife like that with anyone,” Sulla broke the silence.
Constance peered up from watching the multi colored fish. Her eyes were perfect emerald pools that Sulla wanted to fall into.
“Thank you for sharing it with me,” Constance nodded.
“I want to share more things with you,” Sulla ventured.
Constance went to her naked finger where Dex’s ring once hung. The sudden emptiness threatened to consume her.
“What if I promise that even if we’re not together anymore that I would still look after your family?” Sulla offered. Constance looked at him, tilting her head pondering his proposal.
“You will never have to worry about finding another patron even if we end up hating each other,” Sulla pursued.
“I never thought I’d actually grow to hate anyone…,” Constance pondered then as she conjured up Dex’s face a hardness grew inside her that made her stomach ache. “Not until recently…” Men in the thrall of lust promised anything only to renege on it later as Euphemia always warned her. And she was right. Sulla got down on one knee in front of Constance, as if he were a suitor proposing.
“I can give you anything you want,” Sulla affirmed. “You’ll never want for anything.”
Was it what Constance wanted? She knew she didn’t want to feel this horrible emptiness any more. Without even thinking Constance took Sulla’s face in her hands and kissed him. Her lilac perfume filled his lungs and he returned her kiss as if she were air and he needed to inhale after being unconscious for so long.
“Yes,” Constance said the word. She finally said the word. Sulla’s face lit up like the sun. She was his.
* * * * *
Dex sat in the bar halfway through a bottle of new scotch. It tasted like shit but it got you drunk so no one really cared about how it tasted.
“Another!” Dex stumbled over the word. He had forgotten most words.
“Dex Ransom. From soldier to war criminal to erotic instructor to spy and now,” a woman with blond hair and beautiful sun kissed skin sat next to Dex, “town drunk.”
“The best job so far,” Dex grinned. Just as he was about to down another shot of Persephone Scotch she placed a gentle yet firm hand on his arm to stop him. Bitterly drunk Dex snorted, “Listen you’re pretty but I’m not in the mood for company right now.”
“I just want you to listen to me before you pass out, Ransom.”
Dex turned to see Aurelia shockingly wearing simple clothes and her hair in a pony tail. She looked like a completely different person.
“I think I’m drunk enough because I’m seeing things…,” Dex muttered.
“No you’re not,” Aurelia spoke stoically. “I’m here to talk about what we’re going to do next now that Mara is in state custody.”
“What’s there to discuss,” Dex rolled his eyes. “My friend’s dead, my girl’s gone, the rebellion is finished without Djinn.”
“That last part would be true if Mara Vega was really Djinn,” Aurelia smiled.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Aurelia waved her hand signaling someone to come over. Grayson suddenly appeared as if from no where. “Grayson has been keeping an eye on you for me ever since you left Hedone grounds,” Aurelia explained to the confused drunk.
“Sorry about your friend, Dex,” Grayson was sincere. He never liked Faro but he knew what it was like to lose a fellow soldier in battle.
“So what are you saying?” Dex tried to sit up but the room began to shake but he was the only one aware of the phenomenon. “If Mara isn’t Djinn then who is?”
“Me,” Aurelia smiled. Dex stared dumbfounded. He really was hallucinating.
“Bull shit.”
“And we have more things we need you to do, Ransom,” Aurelia said cryptically.
* * * * *
The End…?
Again I apologize for any inconsistent facts. I do want to do a third edit and it would help if I was given some critique on it. I mostly don't like some of the dialogue.
Thank You!
I also may do more with this like continue the story because I know most want to know what happens next.
Problems I already have:
1. Depending on distance, Constance should have more injuries or Leila should have gotten them cover.
1. Depending on distance, Constance should have more injuries or Leila should have gotten them cover.
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