Omega Games (11 page)

Mk-tk stopped thrashing and made a snorkeling sound through a nose or mouth shaped like a collapsing cone filled with filament-fine sensory organs.

“I don’t care how many credits you throw at me, pal,” Mercy told him. “If you can’t respect the house safety limits, you can take yourself and your body fluid fetish somewhere else.” She lifted her boot. “We understand each other? Or do I dunk you in the nearest liquid-waste disposal and see how you like sucking on that?”

Mk-tk shivered all over, curled into a ball, and rolled out of the room past me and disappeared around a corner.

“Idiot male.” Mercy tilted Eka’s head to one side and brushed back her flame-colored hair, revealing a large section of flesh mottled with black bruising. “Your arms aren’t broken. Why didn’t you hit the panic switch when he wouldn’t let go?”

“Not like he’s an Edpriyin bloodsucker, Merc,” the prostitute said. “Besides, after every session with him you let me spend the rest of the day in the tub.” She gazed past Mercy at me and frowned. “Who’s going to service her? They’ll need some direction.”

Mercy made a rude sound. “She’s not trade. This is Resa, our . . . houseguest.”

“What did she mean by . . . ?” I paused as I worked out what Eka had said. “Oh.”

“I’d better introduce you to the other girls,” Mercy said, heading out of the room, “before you end up under one of them.”

Six

From the pleasure rooms we walked to the main lobby, where Mercy’s unoccupied employees gathered and waited for interested patrons to enter and make a selection from them.

“Normally we take appointments only,” Mercy told me. “Since Davidov started the blockade, though, I’ve allowed unscheduled walk-ins. Sex temporarily relieves anxiety, and these are anxious times.”

“Do the other females on colony resent your business?”

“There are a couple of puritans who’d like to shut me down,” she admitted. “But I think most of the women on Trellus are secretly grateful for us. We run an honest, clean house, but more importantly, we’re discreet.”

Mercy greeted several females who were lounging on couches and divans inside the large and opulently furnished room. Some were reading data-pads;others were engaged in some form of personal grooming. A few appeared drowsy, as if they’d just awakened. All of them were in a state of provocative dress, and looked at me with varying degrees of interest and not a small amount of apprehension.

“Girls, this is Resa,” Mercy told them. “She’s not a trick, and she doesn’t spit.”

“See?” One of the girls nudged another. “I told you there were more like Mercy.”

“That’s right,” Mercy said. “Now forget you saw her and don’t say a word to anyone outside the house about her being here, or you’re fired. Without severance or reference.”

I didn’t make a grand impression. A few of them waved or greeted me before returning to their reading, grooming, or dozing.

Eka’s unfamiliarity with my species made me curious. “Are you now the only Terran on Trellus?” I asked her as we moved into another room, one filled with security monitors and equipment panels.

“No, there’s Drefan, or what’s left of him. A couple of mercs from the homeworld stop in now and then, too.” Mercy went to one of the consoles and began pulling up various images on the screen. The images showed rooms occupied by males and females who were coupling. “First time they land, they hear about me and come looking for personal service, the bigoted bastards. Pisses them off to find out that I just run the place.”

“You don’t play tricks?”

She gave me a startled look, and then laughed. “That’s a good way to put it. No, I haven’t played with anyone but Cat since he and I got together.”

It was my turn to feel surprised. “You are wife to that Omorr?”

“I am
girlfriend
to that Omorr,” she corrected. “We were going to make it permanent, but the war got in My gaze went to one of the monitors, and the three males and one female it showed in a very complicated position. “Do you watch all the tricks with your girls?”

“Not because I’m a voyeur, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s a safety precaution, because . . . we get some rough trade through here.” She tapped some keys and the image changed to an exterior view of the colony. She pointed to one of the darker domes. “That’s Omega Dome, Drefan’s place. Commonly referred to as Gamers. We’ll have to go over there for the meet. He doesn’t ever leave it.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s a proud, stubborn jackass. He’s also disabled.” She opened a com channel. “Cat, any progress on that meet?”

“We have company,” the Omorr said. “He’d like to speak with you.”

Another male voice growled, “We want the female. Bring her out.”

Mercy closed the channel. “See? I knew it. I
knew
it.” She reopened it. “How nice of you boys to stop in. We have an entire house filled with females, so take your pick. Just don’t hurt them or remove them from the property, and make sure you have enough credits to pay for what you like.”

“I want the female from the wrecked ship,” the man replied. “She’s the one he’ll pay for.”

Mercy muted the channel and turned to me. “This walking hemorrhoid and his crew are Gnilltak raiders. Your basic scum of the universe. They’ve been stranded here ever since Davidov locked down the colony. He destroyed their ship, too. Needless to say, they’re not a cheery bunch.” She enabled the audio.

“—her now, Mercy,” the raider’s leader was bellowing. “Or we’ll start burning some new holes in your whores. Starting with your pretty boy.”

Mercy switched the monitor to the reception room, where a group of armed males had weapons trained on the females. One hulking male stood behind Cat and had a pulse rifle pressed against the Omorr’s head.

“Shit,” she said softly, tugging at the silver loop piercing her eyebrow before she reopened the channel. “All right, I’m coming out with her.”

“I can deal with him,” I told her as I removed the Lok-teel from under my tunic. “Give me a moment.”

“Oh, no. You’re staying here. I’m not going to let them shoot up the place.” She opened one of the bins under the console and took out two pulse pistols, tucking both inside her jacket. “They were stupidnot to disarm Cat. Between the two of us we can—” She looked at me and shrieked.

“It’s all right. It’s a type of mask.” I went still as the Lok-teel enveloped my head and molded itself to my skull, darkening and refining itself into the broader countenance of an older woman.

Mercy had gone so pale she looked like a negative of herself. “That’s really not eating your face?”

“No, it’s only covering it.” It fanned out over my hair, mimicking it as it turned a pale gold, and crept over my eyes, shaping new ones that were wide, pleasant, and pale blue. Although the telepathic mold had covered my entire face with a mask exactly matching the image I had projected to it, I could breathe and

Mercy stared, appalled and fascinated. “You’re sure that’s not smothering you?”

“Quite sure.” Once it had finished, I smiled with my new mouth. “This face belongs to a Terran female named Ana Hansen.” “Maybe you should give it back.” “It is only a replica of her countenance, created by the Lok-teel—the thing on my face—to cover my

own features,” I told her. “I thought it best to use a real person, in the event my identity is checked. Ana

is an administrator on K-2.” “But how could it . . . never mind. You can explain it to me later.” She took another pistol from the bin and tried to put it in my hands. “Take it. If the mask doesn’t work, you’ll need it.”

“I thank you, but I prefer to use my own weapons.” I showed her my own blade harness. “I have Jorenian field and combat training.” Her jaw sagged. “A Terran, fighting for Joren?”

“I was a battlefield surgeon with Teulon Jado’s forces,” I clarified. “On Akkabarr, during the rebellion. ” “A patcher
and
a soldier. You get more interesting by the millisecond, Cherijo.” New respect glinted in her eyes. “When we go out there, let me do the talking. If at any time I do this”—she made a small hand gesture—“attack to disable.”

We returned to the reception room, where the raiders were waiting with their hostages. “You took your time, Mercy.” The leader, a large, benign-looking humanoid with a wide frame and soft brown and orange hair covering most of his derma, shoved the end of his rifle hard against Cat’s head.

The pleasant expression in his liquid brown eyes and the mellow beauty of his voice made his actions seem that much more obscene. “You getting tired of Snake-Face?” “In your dreams, Pus-breath,” Mercy said. She didn’t flinch when the raider fired directly over her head. “My name,” he shouted, “is Posbret.” “Whatever.” Mercy studied her fingernails. “You wanted to see the female from the crash.” She jerked

her head toward me. “There she is.” The raider shoved Cat away from him and walked up to me. He had to bend over to look into my face.

His breath smelled like the flowers on Joren, and his eyes tugged at my heart with their soulful beauty. “She doesn’t look at all like that clone slut pictured in the bounty relays.” “She is, however,” Mercy said, “the female who was in the crash. You can check with my dreds if you

like.” Perfumed breath blasted my Lok-teel mask as the raider demanded, “What are you called?” “Ana Hansen,” I lied politely. “I’m an administrator on K-2.” I didn’t struggle as he grabbed the front of

my tunic and lifted me off my feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mercy put a hand on Cat’s nearest appendage, as if to hold him back.

“You don’t look anything like the one he wants.” The raider’s expression turned tragically sad, which I

I had not prepared a cover story, so I told him a carefully worded version of the truth.

“My husband and I are sojourning together,” I said. “We stopped here to visit our friend.” I glanced at Mercy, to make him believe that she was the friend in question. “The trader in orbit told us that no one was permitted to land on Trellus. When we ignored his advice, he fired on us. We had to make an emergency landing, and the crash destroyed our vessel. We are stranded here now.”

“So are we, curse that mud-sucking Terran up there.” Posbret’s grip loosened. “Where is this husband of yours now?”

“Drefan has him over at Omega Dome,” Mercy said. “Are you satisfied, or should I draw some stick figures?”

For a moment I thought the Gnilltak might not release me. Then he abruptly let go, and I dropped to the floor. Cat grabbed me and kept me from landing on my face. In doing so the Omorr felt the strap of my blade harness, and gave me a wary look.

“Watch your hide, Terran.” The Gnilltak raider shouldered his rifle and left, his men filing out behind him.

While Cat repaired the damage Posbret had inflicted on the house security grid, Mercy sent her frightened girls off duty and cleared the remaining customers out of the house.

“We’re closed for the rest of the day because I said so,” she told one male as the disgruntled tricks departed. “Keep giving me grief and I’ll cancel the free return visit I credited to your account—and call your spouse to let her know how much you enjoy being whipped before you mate.”

Before we left for the meeting, Mercy showed me a room in a private, well-monitored section of the house. The furnishings appeared more subdued than those in the pleasure rooms, but I preferred the restful textures and colors. After living for so long on a world of white and blue ice, vivid colors unsettled me. Some combinations even nauseated me.

“These will be your quarters. Mine are right through there”—she pointed to a door panel— “and Cat is across the hall.”

I removed the Ana Hansen mask from my face, and the Lok-teel became a blob again and slid under my collar.

“The room terminal and the emergency transmitter are voice-activated,” Mercy continued, “and we’ll keep ours connected with yours. If anything happens, you only have to call out and Cat or I will be in here in two seconds.”

“What could happen that I would need you so quickly?” I asked, and saw a flash of raw emotion pass over her face. Fear, and something like outrage. “Mercy?”

“Nothing.” She handed me a stack of dark blue garments. “We look to be about the same size, so these should fit you. Get washed up and changed while I arrange our escort.”

She left me in the room, and I made use of the cleansing unit before I put on the tunic and trousers she had given me. I decided to take the Lok-teel with me, in the event I needed to disguise my features again. After I tucked it under my tunic, I tidied my hair. Duncan preferred it down and loose, and often brushed it out himself in the evenings. Nerves and something else made me begin separating my hair into sections.