This is a prequel to "Sirens of the Belt" and there will also be a sequel. I did use writing prompts just like the last one but I'll just have them in bold type.
The riots started over the smallest thing. Cressida station was the wealthiest in the Athena Belt. However, in the case of class warfare it was on the same level of tension as the others. Even 5 years after the disbanding of the Stygian Corps the public still held disdain for the Earth Confederation. It grew worse on the anniversary of Geronimo. It didn’t help that the E-Con was suggesting shutting down the courtesan system. Women of the low class were in an uproar. The courtesan system gave low class women the opportunity to escape their poverty and provide for their families. Now the government wanted to take that away too.
On Saturday, on the anniversary of the massacre of Geronimo, the disgruntled murmurs of the low class became a full out cry when a Peace Keeper got into a civilian’s face. No one knows who threw the glass bottle but it hit a Peace Keeper in the head. The riot started and ended up making a crack in the wall that vacuumed out precious oxygen. It took a week to repair it. Tensions were further inflamed as the infamous Djinn, leader of the terrorist group Legion made a statement about his approval of the people standing up to oppression. The E-Con had blood on its hands. Despite government efforts to find or squash Djinn’s statements, he continued to plague their air waves.
* * * *
“Wait, these codes aren’t right.”
Julian Sulla looked up from his slate to his cadet who looked nervous. Security codes to the federal building where the Viceroy made his home always changed everyday to prevent security breaches. Though these codes were different. They would have allowed any novice to walk into any part of the building.
“Has the Viceroy Seneca seen these?” asked Sulla. The cadet shook his head.
“Let’s keep it between us for now then,” Sulla smiled. “No need to worry him with nothing.”
“But the security codes—“
“I’ll look into them,” Sulla nodded. “It’s probably a glitch.” Sulla dismissed his cadet with the wave of his black gloved hand. Once the cadet left, Julian Sulla started thinking of suspects… and how this could turn in his favor if at all.
* * * *
“Which is worse,” she wondered. “Emotional pain or physical pain?”
“Why would you ask that?” Constance asked her young companion. Leila tilted her head then answered simply, “Just curious.”
“No one’s that curious,” Aurelia said. “You’re a weird one, Leila.”
Constance thought it over nevertheless then said, “Emotional pain.”
“Why you say that?” Leila asked.
“Because physical wounds heal but emotional scars never do,” Constance explained. “Trust for example. That’s the hardest wound to heal. Trust is easy to build up but almost impossible to repair.”
“My mother would agree with you,” Leila said.
“You two should have been philosophers,” Aurelia yawned. “You’re boring enough.”
“And deep enough,” Constance remarked drily. “Not shallow like some…”
Aurelia glared at Constance whose emerald eyes were already legendary. The Erotic Instructors would talk of nothing else. In a few days Aurelia, Constance, and a few other of their classmates would turn 18. From the time they were 11 or so they were taught elegance and sophistication. Now was time for the physical lessons. Some of the girls were excited. Already some of the Erotic Instructors have bent protocol and peeked at some of their new students.
“I wonder who I’ll get,” Aurelia said as she lounged on her bed.
“I’m sure you’ll be satisfied,” Constance pointed out.
“You don’t sound thrilled,” Aurelia accused. She then smiled wickedly saying, “I’m sure whoever you get will be as patient and kind no matter how slow you are to learn.”
Constance narrowed her green eyes. Then with an equally wicked grin Constance said, “And being as personality isn’t an issue here your Instructor will like you just fine.”
Leila laughed. Watching Constance and Aurelia bicker was always a highlight of her day.
* * * *
She counted down the minutes. Constance’s birthday was tomorrow. She would be 18 and her real training in becoming a courtesan would begin. Before now she had kissed only girls. It’s what most of the students did either for comfort or to ease themselves into the real challenge; how to satisfy a man. Up until this point, Erotic Instructors were kept away from the students in a separate quarter of Hedone. What Constance learned from the eunuchs and servant maids was that they were all handsome men. An Erotic Instructor had to be late 20s to late 30s. Unmarried. Had to be experienced in the art of sex and have amazing stamina. And he gave up all right to claim a courtesan upon her graduation.
Despite the rule, a day or week before a student’s 18th birthday they may catch a glimpse of their would be Erotic Instructors. Seemed to ease the girls’ troubled minds. More often it was in a serving capacity. Constance’s duty that day was to serve wine. She was wearing her white sari, very modest. The men were in their bath at midday. Three of them talking about the riots last week.
“It’s been 5 years and still everyone’s sore over that Geronimo incident,” Ion sighed, scratching his chin. He had penetrating cool blue eyes, a thick golden mane and a muscular build to go with his confidence. He reminded Constance of a lion. Yet his smile was that of a wolf.
“100 years could pass and everyone would still be sore about it,” retorted Bastian. Constance had heard a little more about Bastian. He was dark in complexion built like a Greek God as many of the maid servants blushed in describing him. Constance poured him more wine and flushed when he winked at her.
“I didn’t take you for an activist,” Theo laughed. Theo had hazel nut skin. His Latin heritage very prominent in his features, which made him more exotic to the women he encountered. Ion turned his attention to Constance.
“Perhaps we should ask an Ashoka girl her opinion,” Ion addressed Constance. Her obsidian prayer beads always gave her away. She was used to it. What she wasn’t used to was Ion’s eyes looking her over with his hungry wolf eyes. Bastian and Theo turned to Constance. All eyes on her and she was frozen in the spot light.
“Come on then,” Ion prompted. “What are your thoughts on the riot on Cressida?”
“I don’t pay that much to politics,” Constance confessed sheepishly. Ion smiled then said, “Alright then do you think the people have a right to still be angry over something that happened 5 years ago?”
Constance paused. She felt a lump in her throat.
“Leave the poor girl alone,” Theo chided.
“Ashoka are hard to anger about anything,” Bastian shrugged as he sipped his wine.
“That’s not true,” Constance said. They all looked at her with curiosity.
“Is that so?” Ion arched his brow. “And what makes you angry?”
“People who think they know everything when they really know nothing,” Constance retorted. If it was one thing she hated it was Covenant followers and nay sayers poking fun at a religion that provided her comfort through out most of her difficult childhood.
Ion rose from the bath, his nakedness on full display, muscles glistening from the perfumed water. Constance tried to keep her eyes above Ion’s waist.
“I see you’ve never seen a naked man before,” Ion teased. Constance flushed, her tongue seemed too swollen to talk.
“I guess we can assume that Ashoka girls are also as prudish as Covenant girls,” Theo reasoned.
She narrowed her green eyes at Ion who met them with intrigue. Everyone held their breath unsure what would happen.
“Such pretty eyes,” Ion complimented. “Like emeralds.”
Ion reached up to Constance’s face and moved a small dark strand of her curly hair away from her face behind her ear to get a better look at her. The brush of his fingers sent a jolt through Constance. Her heart raced at the sight of his gleaming smile. Bastian and Theo were suddenly invisible to Ion and Constance.
“Tell me— what is your name?” Ion asked.
“Constance.”
“Constance,” Ion savored the name. “Tell me, Constance, have you ever kissed a man before?”
Constance avoided his gaze focusing on her silver pewter pitcher. Before she could provide a decent answer, Ion took Constance’s face in his hands and kissed her on her pink lips. It was a simple kiss but one that held promise. Constance was too shocked to respond. Ion slowly pulled away, the soft echoing from the tender smacking of lips.
“Now you have,” Ion commented. Bastian and Theo sat amused. Constance was stunned. Then she heard Lady Euphemia’s familiar strut down the hall and saw her looming shadow.
“Constance.” Euphemia’s commanding voice making Constance jump a little. “I think you’re done serving these men for the day.”
Constance couldn’t make it out of there fast enough. Ion watched her leave, a wanting gleam in his eye and a wolfish smile. That smile didn’t diminish under Euphemia’s intense gaze.
“I told you the rules, Ion,” Euphemia chided. “No touching the girls until tomorrow.”
“It was just a taste,” Ion shrugged as he took a sip of wine. The sweet taste of Constance’s lips made the wine more potent somehow. Or perhaps that was Ion’s euphoria.
“That girl has potential,” Ion beamed.
“Constance?” Euphemia raised a quizzical eye brow. “She’s a timid thing. Though on occasion she’ll show some spark.”
“I can turn that spark into a roaring flame,” Ion boasted.
“Don’t keep her to yourself,” Bastian chuckled. But already in Ion’s mind he was tasting all of Constance. Unwrapping her white sari and taking her into a hot embrace.
* * * *
“No one will notice…,” Leila tilted her head, her eyes unable to hide their consternation. Aurelia examined the light scars on her body. Each told a story of how her strict Covenant parents disciplined her. Every mistake an outline on her once pure flesh. She touched one on her shoulder blade, a long crescent shaped cut. She had arrived home late and her father, a priest in the church had her cut herself for her penance.
“It’s not like yours, Leila,” Aurelia bitterly replied. It wasn’t like Constance’s. Leila grew up on Cressida station where Ashoka flourished. Constance was raised in Ashoka. Ashoka didn’t believe in self mutilation or violence. Aurelia would often spy Constance in the group bath and see her spotless porcelain skin shining, almost blinding even in the soft light. When a light beam hit her Constance would glow. It evoked envy and admiration from Aurelia.
Aurelia wrapped her robe around her body unable to stare it any longer.
“It’ll be dark,” Leila tried to comfort her friend.
“As much as I appreciate it, Leila,” Aurelia said softly. “Please shut up.”
* * * *
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Faro eyed his friend Dex who stood with a knife at the ready.
“Oh I would,” Dex said his voice full of intensity. The men stared each other down. Their silence worse than a scratching on a chalk board.
“Then do it,” Faro goaded. “If you have the balls.”
Dex set up his target then launched his knife. The knife sailed through the air and hit the apple resting on Faro’s dark head, knocking it off and nailing it to the wall. A cheer roared from everywhere in the Canterbury bar. Faro and Dex perhaps laughed the loudest.
“Still the best shot in the Belt,” praised Faro, roughly patting Dex on the shoulder as he drank his beer.
“I may be slipping,” Dex joked. “I was aiming lower.” Faro hollered jovially. He and Dex had a grim sense of humor only they understood.
“I owe you a beer then,” Faro signaled for the bar tender for another round.
“No no no,” Dex held his hands up in surrender, his balance wavering. “I have to get back and sober up. Got a job to do.”
“Breaking in some new talent, Dex?” asked a bar patron wickedly.
“Someone has to,” Faro called.
Everyone raised a glass in agreement.
“Just one more drink, Jay,” Faro asked quietly. Dex’s face suddenly darkened. He whispered harshly, “You know not to call me that.” Faro shrugged his shoulders but said, “One more drink won’t kill you, brother.”
After hearing his real name Dex wanted to drown out the horrible memories that came rushing back with it. Dex drank until his head swam.
* * * *
Constance waited on her bed, her hands wringing in her lap, playing with her obsidian prayer beads. This morning she turned 18. First sessions with Erotic Instructors were assigned but later it became less strict and often Instructors would trade with each other. The rule was they would be gone before morning.
Unable to quiet her mind, Constance got up and tried to read a book but just as she was opening to her first page, someone came busting in. Constance turned around quickly to see a tall man with rust colored hair and a pale complexion wavering in the door way.
“You are…,” Constance began.
“Your Erotic… Instruct… Instructor…,” the man hiccuped. Constance remembered the name on the schedule: Dex Ransom.
“You’re Dex Ransom,” Constance was doubtful. Dex stumbled into the room, knocking a vase over.
“Oops,” he muttered. “Okay… let’s get started.”
“You’re really drunk right now,” Constance stood looking at him sternly. She reminded Dex of an old nun who used to beat him with a yard stick.
“No,” he argued. “I’m not… you’re just blurry.” Dex stumbled forward. Constance reached and caught him before he hit the floor though he threatened to take her with him. She helped him to the bed, the alcohol from his breath was enough to get herself intoxicated.
“Thanks uhhh…”
“Constance.”
“Constance?” Dex’s tongue stumbled over the name as he smiled broadly. “Weird name. But you’re so nice and so pretty.”
Constance looked into Dex’s eyes. They were a grayish blue like steel and were foggy from his night of carousing. Then Dex passed out. Constance rolled her eyes. Seeing no other option, Constance placed a blanket over Dex’s slumbering body and sat in a chair, focusing on her book.
* * * *
Tomorrow I'll post Part 3.
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