Senescence (Jezebel's Ladder Book 5) (14 page)

“We
could work with the child-labor theme,” Themis said. “Hell, if you added the
word ‘foreign,’ the perpetrators would be lynched. We could even stage a few
protests if we print up the banners. People around here love a good protest.”

Nodding,
Hans said, “Yes. Turn up the heat on the officials, and get them to ban labor
for children under fifteen or non-citizens. In fact, we could even stir up a
buzz against workers imported from other states in Egypt. Nemesis, find me a
sweatshop we can air on the evening news. Once the rallying cry is out, we can
hit family businesses where the young wife works. Once husbands and girls are in
police custody, we can give the girls a choice between being deported to a safe
location or returning to their husbands. We can hide the rescues in the noise.”

“We
should target new wives without babies,” Grant said. “We don’t want to be
accused of stealing mothers from their children.”

“There’s
a Doctors without Borders ship on the river,” Laura said. “We might be able to
use them to help with the shell game and transport.”

Grant
turned to Stu. “We can’t save them all, but that makes the successes even sweeter.
Welcome to the team.”

****

The first morning, Freya
paid Laura a visit over breakfast. Laura tried to be social. “Hi. My mother and
I were just debating whether aliens gave the Ancient Egyptians Pages. What do
you think?”

“Salome,
thanks to the bruise you gave me, I can’t have any close-ups this episode. I
won’t even be able to flirt in the hotel bar.” The huntress wasn’t glaring,
though; she was smiling.

“What
did you do?” Laura asked, suspicious.

“I
got you promoted from lighting assistant to production assistant,” Freya said
vindictively. “If I’m not getting any, neither are you.”

Kaguya
had to explain it to her when the huntress left. “Men and women had different
floors on the hotel, and Stu doesn’t drink. So you have to hook up with him in
your spare time during the day. Running errands for the whole show, you’ll be
lucky to have time to sleep. Stars are always PMSing about something.
Coordinating with the local government is going to be the killer, though.”

“No
big deal. I deal with bureaucracy all the time at work.”

Her
mother raised an eyebrow. “Everything takes longer than normal in Cairo, even
parking permits. There’s no way we’ll close this deal in a week. Freya
torpedoed you, baby.”

****

The conditions in the
Cairo slums were deplorable, but Laura enjoyed that sweaty, back-breaking filming
more than any work she’d done in years. Filming for more than the usual week
bothered many crew members because any slip in schedule could mean a delay in
airing the next episode and a loss of audience share. Grant told everyone not
to worry about the lost time because he was working on a special report. Laura
was certain that the extra episode would be an investigative piece on the
secrets of
Sanctuary
gleaned from hours of conversations with Stu.

During
the day of filming, Laura finally got to spend a few minutes with the
ambassador. She waited on a rooftop with binoculars, searching for some sign of
the local police so she could cue the camera crews. The tar stuck to her shoes
as she paced. She had stopped sweating, and her tongue felt like bacon. The
police had scheduled the raid for eleven, and it was past one now. “I’m in
hell,” she muttered.

“Mo
says you have to treat all this like a fishing trip, not a footrace.”

She
jumped. Stu was on the fire-escape ladder right behind her.

“You
look like you could use a drink,” Stu said, handing her an ice-cold bottle of
orange soda and pressing it against her wrists. “My dad showed me this trick.
It cools your whole body.”

It certainly gave me a shiver.
Laura licked her lips. “Do you have an opener?”

“Yeah.
Here.” He popped the cap for her.

Her
first swallow was so heavenly, she guzzled the refreshment. As she tipped back
the bottle, condensation drops fell on her throat and slid toward the V in her
shirt.

Mesmerized,
Stu watched the droplet’s journey.

She
sighed. “Ah. I needed that. You, sir, can have
any
favor you like.”

“Actually,
I did ha-have something I wanted to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“Distressed
Egyptian farmers and the residents of
Sanctuary
will be forever in your
debt for this.”

Laura
placed the chilled bottle against her forehead, afraid this might be sunstroke.
“Huh?”

“You
handle paperwork. I found two farmers with teaching experience who I’ve invited
to visit our ship. I want them to help our biosphere improve crop yields, but
they need exit visas. Hans said you were Wonder Woman when it came to this
stuff.”

I need to brush up on old comics.
“Yeah. Fighting for our rights by standing in lines.”

He
sat down on the edge of the building wall. “Together, we saved
twenty
girls. We shipped those girls to a Saudi branch of Mom’s STEM girl’s school—with
scholarships. I don’t know how you managed it.” His smile and honest admiration
made the whole week worthwhile.

“So
you’re going to stick around for another show?” she asked.

“You
bet. Isn’t that a police motorcade?”

“Shit!
Places,” Laura shouted into her headset.

Stu’s fame opened new
doors for the Ballbusters team. For the first time ever, they were invited to
Saudi Arabia. Several princes wanted to court Stu and fish for hints about
Sanctuary’s
advanced technology. After the plane departed from Cairo airport, the team
gathered in the meeting room to familiarize Stu with recent facts about the
kingdom. The team had distributed the remaining German beer because it wasn’t
allowed in the strict Muslim country. Stu seemed to enjoy the bonding
experience.

“As
one of the few remaining monarchies …,” Grant began.

Laura
quietly excused herself. She had done business in Riyadh recently and didn’t
need the background. Instead, she changed into a cooler pair of shorts and a
cotton halter top.
I must have lost five kilos from sweating in the last week.
She transferred two bottles of cold water from the fridge into her explorer bag.
In the computer nook, she sat under an air vent while she searched her mother’s
bank records.

From
what Laura could tell, her grandfather had spent his portion of the 2-percent
funds on acquiring water rights, food production, and anything likely to be
scarce. Her mother had funneled every dime into a non-profit called NERO—the
Near-Earth Rescue Organization. After the space war, people had recognized the
need for non-governmental emergency-response teams like the Red Cross. To raise
funds for its operation, NERO charged for safety inspections and repairs and
issued insurance policies on all off-planet missions that passed certification
requirements. The organization was huge, one of only five authorized for space
exploration.

Evidence
in hand, Laura approached her mother in the first-class section of the plane.

“How
are things going with the boy?” Kaguya asked, sipping her tea.

“I’m
flirting from a distance. I can tell I turn him on, but he avoids being alone
with me.”

“That
means he’s weak. He’s afraid his feelings will prevent him from completing his
mission. Press in.”

Laura
waved away the advice. “I know how to seduce a man. I’m here to ask you about
NERO.”

“It’s
a quality organization that does a lot of good.”

“No
doubt. Why did you start it?”

“When
your father returns, his ship may be damaged. I needed a reliable corps of
people to save him and reunite us.”

Placing
a blueprint on the tray table, Laura said, “Most of your funds went to a
specific project—a doughnut-shaped transport. It’s huge. What is it for?
Fortune’s aerospace division built it, but I don’t have access to the files.”

Kaguya
looked her daughter in the eye. “The star drive is in the center for
maneuverability. Officially, it’s a hub for other craft to dock at for provisioning
and repairing—a way station.”

“Why
is it three stories tall?”

“I
designed that ship to fit precisely into the landing bay of
Sanctuary
.
It can carry all the people and equipment Conrad and I will need for another
twenty years of exploration.”

My mother, the mad scientist. At least she’s consistent.

Her
curiosity satisfied for the moment, Laura wandered back to the meeting room to
catch the tail end of the briefing.

Hans
summarized, “The first prince wants to show off his estate on the Persian Gulf.
After a welcome feast, we’ll visit two other sites and end in Riyadh. We’ve
agreed to film Princess Nora’s University as well as the STEM college. They
want a PR piece about how benevolent Saudi society is toward women.”

Sif
snorted. “By leading the world in honor killings of their daughters?”

“No
public criticism,” Grant warned, “or we’ll never finish the episode.” He eyed
Artemis. “We negotiated the same simple head covering on the crew, men and
women. So there’s no discrimination.”

Hans
continued, “Because we have contraband on board—yes, Artemis, I mean your sex
toys, porn, and gun collection—we will be stopping in Haifa for the rest of the
day to offload.” A cheer went up from the crowd at this surprise announcement.
“Blow off some steam on the beach because I need you all to be on your best
behavior. The Saudi police are very diligent and don’t have my sense of humor.”

“This
is my territory,” Artemis said. “Everybody is invited to my uncle’s beach
house.”

The
crowd dispersed quickly, leaving Laura alone with Stu and Mo. Throughout the
whole plane, doors to bathrooms and cabins banged shut.

Stu
paced the meeting room uncomfortably.

Mo
laughed. “I told you not to wait till after the meeting to use the bathroom.
Sit down and don’t move. Jostling only makes it worse.”

“What’s
with all these women? It’s bad enough that they go to the loo in packs, but why
do they choose now to all go at once?”

She
could tell the beer was weighing heavily on him. Stifling a giggle, Laura said,
“They’re panic shaving.”

Stu
looked confused.

She
pointed down below to the area below her low-slung, studded-leather belt. “You
know, trimming the outback? Bush whacking?” Turning to his bodyguard, she
asked, “Mo, what does he call it?”

“I
am not having that discussion with the boy.” Onesemo held up his hands and left
the meeting room.

For
the first time since her disguise, she was alone with Stu indoors. “Wh-why
aren’t you shaving?” he stammered.

She
couldn’t tell him she’d had hair permanently removed from certain places, so she
opted for the more modest, “I won’t be sunbathing because I burn rather
spectacularly. My skin is very sensitive.”

His
eyes darted toward her exposed midsection and then away.
Hello. A chink in
the armor. Let’s take a hit in the name of science.
Laura leaned on the
button for audio recording on the conference table. She tried to be soothing
and clinical as she explained, “The mons pubis, also called the mons Venus in
women, has hair that can extrude from typical swimwear.” He was still confused.

She
locked the conference-room door and faced Stu. She slid her tan shorts down,
stopping at the first hairs. He stopped breathing. While he scanned her exposed
skin from a distance of a meter, she lectured about the different types and
shapes of hair removal at salons. His gaze never left the demonstration area. Between
the beer and the lack of blood in his brain, she thought he might pass out. He
had clearly never seen or heard any of this before. She leaned in closer so his
face was centimeters from the hair in question. “Would you like to feel it?”

Stu
closed his eyes and shook his head. “As soon as the first woman is done shaving
her bits, I’m going in.”

At
that moment, Laura knew from the electricity in the air she could coerce Stu
into practically anything. In moments, she could be banging him on that table,
against the wall, and on the rolling chair.
Though the chair might be a
little dangerous
. However, she wanted her first time with Stu to be
special. A man’s first sexual experience established patterns for his entire
life. She didn’t want him to end up like his father or uncle—wham-bam-good-bye-ma’am.
What other choice did she have?

I can get some DNA from urine
, she thought. She handed him her empty, wide-necked, plastic water
bottle. “Here, you can borrow this while you’re waiting.” She had to pantomime
peeing into the container.

Grateful,
he snatched the bottle. “Could you turn around and—?” He waved his hand.

“Sure,”
she said, wriggling back into her shorts and facing the wall. Soon after, she
heard him groan. She snuck a peek. He couldn’t hit the bottle because of a
sizable problem. After several humorous attempts, she suggested, “Try reciting
your multiplication tables.” Over a minute later, she heard a sigh of release
followed by re-zipping.

Not the relief I was aiming for, but it will do.

When
she returned, the bottle was completely full and recapped. “Better?”

He
nodded. Laura held out her hand for the bottle, but he refused. “I feel guilty.
A lady shouldn’t dispose of my … problems.”

“It’s
okay. As the newest crew member, I do everything.” She stuffed the awkward
urine container into her explorer bag. “Are you going to the beach when we land?”

His
eyes strayed to her midriff again. “I’m touring a holocaust museum and a
repository for Dead Sea scrolls.”

“No
girls will be taking clothes off there. You could skip all the dried-up history
lessons and relax under an umbrella on the beach with me,” she offered. “I
could teach you how to build a sandcastle.” She felt like such a predator. “Buy
you an ice cream cone, any flavor you like.”
Then I’ll lick mine suggestively
until you beg me to do it to you.

“I
don’t know.”

She
stroked the hair on the back of his neck, and he leaned into the caress. His
lips begged for a kiss, but she needed a commitment. “Come on. Dinner is the
least you could do for a girl who taught you how to get rid of an unwanted
erection.”

Stu
was spared when Sif bellowed, demanding that Salome fetch her a new razor. By
the time Laura fulfilled the request, Stu was hiding. The crew kept her busy until
the landing.

Laura
made sure she was the last crew member off of the plane, not hard to do as the
production assistant. She grabbed the urine and the memory card from the
meeting room as proof of the donor’s willingness. At customs, she answered all
the normal questions with practiced ease. However, the agent wouldn’t let her
through with “apple juice” in an unmarked container.

“Maybe
if she takes a sip to prove it’s juice,” suggested Hans.

Laura
smiled and took a swig.
Tastes like a hundred million dollars
, she
thought, struggling not to gag.

“No,”
replied the agent. “She can drink whatever she wishes, but the rest has to be
thrown away before she can enter.”

She
didn’t think this was legal, but if she raised a stink, there would be a strip
search. Then she’d have to explain the stolen memory card in her bra.
Would
that count as pornography?
Pinching her nose shut, she poured as much of
the urine sample as she could into her mouth.
People in Pakistan or
someplace do this every day.

Not
throwing up was her greatest trial. A hundred meters into the airport, she bought
another bottle, emptied it into a water fountain, and spat the sample in. She
handed the bottle to her mother and spent the next five minutes scrubbing her
mouth in the bathroom. Then Laura bought a mojito at the airport bar to further
scour her tongue. She even ate the sprig of mint.
But it’s all worth it. I
have the DNA sample!

Her
next step was to find a flight attendant heading to Geneva to act as courier to
the nearest Mori Biotech lab. Laura sent the sample, the chip, and a brief note
to her grandfather. “This concludes our deal.”

To
celebrate, she booked a double room at a five-star spa. The taxi she and her
mother took smelled like piss. Laura couldn’t tell whether it was her or the
cab. “We’re free,” Laura told her mother.

“Are
you okay?” Kaguya asked.

“I
need a shower and a whole bottle of scotch before I can answer that.”

“So,
no.”

Tears
flowed from Laura’s eyes. “I used a sweet, innocent man who may never speak to
me again because of it.”

“Now
that you’re free, you can do whatever you want. What should we do to celebrate
tomorrow?” her mother asked.

Laura
buried her face in her hands. “I’d like to still be part of the crew. I want Stu
to trust me.”

“To
what end? You have the sample.”

“To
be his first in other ways. I liked … explaining things to him.”

Kaguya
gave her a tissue. “Then that’s what we’ll do. But first you’ll need a massage,
new shoes, and to wipe your nose.”

She
hugged her mother, crying out the emotion that had built up.

At
the spa, Laura waited by the phone for Stu to call. An hour past dinner time,
she called his room. Onesemo fed her some story about Stu having amoebic
dysentery.

“But
he filters and treats all his water.” Laura could hear dance music with a heavy
bass.

“I
think it was those oranges from the Negev or that lettuce.”

A
woman’s voice in the background shouted, “Come on downstairs. We’re doing body
shots.”

Mo
covered the receiver for a moment and said, “I’ve got to go. He needs more
toilet paper.”

Laura
had a little dinner with her wine that night.