“Madame, it is such a pleasure to have you with us this evening. If I may be so bold, might I venture to say that you redefine the very concept of beauty?”
Jayne beamed at him. She could practically see past his sky-green eyes to the endorphins rushing through his brain. “You are too kind, sir. Truthfully, my stylist is a miracle worker. You wouldn’t even recognize me without the work she put in.”
The concierge grinned, still holding her hand. “That is not true at all. You were just as beautiful when you came in here the other week and strode right past me in that jumpsuit of yours. Although I must say, the more I see of you, the more in love I am. And tonight, well…” He gave her another quick appraisal. “There is a lot to see.”
Jayne laughed, blending her natural tone and pitch with that of her dainty sexpot persona. “You are obviously very good at your job. I really didn’t expect anyone to recognize me. I was in a bit of a hurry the last time I popped in. No time for anything, not even my stylist. Honestly, I’m a little embarrassed.”
He gave her hand a soft squeeze. “Your secret is safe with me. I could spend the rest of my life standing here, holding your hand, but I’m afraid I would get fired for that. Is there anything I can assist you with? Anything at all, miss…”
She pulled her hand free and raised it to his cheek. “Miss Maybe-I’ll-tell-you-next-time.” She looked him up and down, just as he had done to her. “You’re quite fetching, you know, mister…”
He laughed at her mimicry. “Ah, but now you have me at a disadvantage. I am at work and part of my job includes answering my patron’s questions.”
Jayne lowered her hand from his cheek and patted him on the chest. “You can keep your name a secret for now. I wouldn’t want to play dirty.” She winked and his grin increased. “I do have a question you can answer for me, though.”
“Ask me anything,” the concierge replied, laying his hands dramatically over hers.
“Where can I find Mr. Fauchery?”
A little of the fire faded from the concierge’s eyes and his grin faltered. He recovered quickly, but Jayne could see that her association with that name had disturbed the man.
“Please don’t be like that,” she whispered tenderly. “I have business with him, just as I do with many powerful people—men and women.”
The concierge smiled hesitantly at her. “It is precisely the business with him that concerns me. Believe me, if it were simply a matter in the sheets, I would think nothing of it. Everyone is entitled to the joys of pleasure. His business, though…” The concierge trailed off and lowered his gaze. After a brief moment, he shook his head and looked up, smiling again. “Alas, I forget myself. Mr. Fauchery is an honored and welcome guest whom I have had the pleasure of drinking with late into the night on more than one occasion. He is excellent company and a shrewd businessman. You can find him in the poker room in the hotel penthouse.”
Jayne pressed herself against the concierge and gave him a slow, firmly-planted kiss on the cheek. “You’re a dear,” she whispered into his ear.
She disengaged languidly from him and stepped away. His head turned to follow her as she left, mirrored by her looking over her shoulder at him. Jayne kept her gaze on him for a half a step more, her eyes dancing with his for a moment longer than they should have. Finally, she broke the spell as she turned to see where she was going.
The concierge sighed forlornly. Despite his fine attire and perfectly coiffed hair, he looked like a man who had been hit by a whirlwind, tossed about wildly in the air, and then placed back exactly where he had started.
+++
Armaros, Theron Techcropolis, Stoke-Dorchester Hotel, Poker Room
Wealthy, sharply dressed men and beautiful, scantily clad women sat at two dozen gambling tables under the enormous crystal chandelier of Stoke-Dorchester’s world-renowned gambling den. There was roulette, black jack, poker, fancis elmette, and tables where go-go dancers with tassels on their nipples gyrated to please the customers. The dealers at each table were topless young women wearing corsets, fishnet stockings, and bunny ears. Similarly dressed women served drinks. It was a retro establishment, in some ways. It harkened back to the days of lounge lizards and playboys. A fantasy only the rich and famous could indulge in. The men seemed to ignore the other half of the bar, a conceptual mirror to their paradise where wealthy women played roulette surrounded by beefy men who were more than happy to fetch them another drink.
Jayne hoped she’d be there someday. But for now, she had to deal with the assholes. She walked among powerful men gathered for drinks with their peers, looking to blow some money, make business deals, and show off whatever gorgeous young girl they’d brought with them.
The security guard let her in without a word. Many eyes turned her way when she entered. The better poker players either took brief glances or simply looked using their peripheral vision. The less subtle men stared.
A topless blonde hostess wearing the same uniform as the other casino girls smiled. “That’s a lovely dress. Is there a particular gentleman you’re here to see?”
There was, but Jayne couldn’t see him amongst the gamblers. “Mr. Fauchery.”
The girl nodded and looked over her shoulder at a flight of red velvet stairs that led to a balcony. “Mr. Fauchery is in a private game. Let me see if I can get him. One moment.”
The girl turned and headed up the stairs. Jayne noticed a buff bunny tail completed the worker’s ensemble. That uniform could prove to be a fun costume in the right situation.
A few moments later, the hostess stepped out of the private entrance, followed by Fauchery. He was a large burly man with an intimidating presence, short dark hair, and a shorter dark beard. His gray eyes looked appraisingly over her as he approached. He wore a black silk suit embroidered with green and red dragons. It looked gaudy, and Jayne liked gaudy. Fauchery took a seat at a booth on the balcony overlooking the tables below. The hostess stepped to the edge of the stairs and waved for Jayne to approach.
“Dragons. Cool! My fourteen-year-old cousin would love that suit,” she joked as she sat across from the man.
“A slutty see-through dress. The whores here would love that outfit,” Fauchery countered.
Jayne cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’re even more charming than last time. If I recall correctly, you said to ‘never come here again in a fucking jumpsuit’ and to ‘look the part of a pretty pussy.’ How is it no one has ever blown your head off?” She reached into her purse and drew the gun she’d shot Terrance with. To avoid attention, she kept it below the table.
Fauchery grunted. “They try. I think you may have overdone the outfit. The point was to fit in, not to draw everyone’s attention.” He leered at her. “But your pussy does look very pretty.”
“You’re a fucking pig. I ought to shoot you right now.”
The light from the chandelier dimmed as Fauchery leaned over and cast Jayne in shadow. “We’re all pigs. The muck and the shit is the truth. Anything that helps us feel clean is a lie.”
Jayne remained unfazed. “That bullshit rationalization may work on most people, but don’t try that garbage on me.” She set the gun on the table and slid it over to Fauchery. “Thanks for the gun. It came in handy.”
“They always do.” He took the pistol and slid it into an inner pocket of his jacket.
Jayne slid the government ID badge over.
Fauchery looked at it for a few moments, then slid it back. “Keep it. You never know when you’ll need an ID with this level of clearance. Or when I’ll need you to have that level of clearance.”
She looked at the ID without touching it, then at Fauchery. “I don’t like owing people.”
He shrugged. “You already owe me for it. I’m letting you keep it because I like your outfit.”
Jayne rolled her eyes dramatically as she returned the badge to her purse. “You make me want to puke. But thanks for the ID.”
“Anytime.” Fauchery looked at the collection of powerful peo
ple gambling on the floor below. “Do you play poker?”
She followed his gaze. One of the girls stepped onto the poker table. She’d just become her escort’s bet. “I prefer to do the betting, not be the bet.”
“Good. There’s a women’s gambling den. It takes place at an upscale spa that doesn’t allow men. Lots of deals go down there. I could use a set of eyes taking it all in. Say the word and I’ll get you in the door.”
“I’ll keep it under consideration. Have a good night, Fauchery. Try not to get slime everywhere you go.”
Jayne turned and left, feeling his lecherous stare follow her to the door.
+++
Armaros, Theron Techcropolis, Wolf and Rose Hotel
Jayne arrived at the Wolf and Rose in a different limo she’d claimed after concluding her business with Fauchery. When she left the hotel, the charming concierge was nowhere to be seen. No doubt he was busy helping another patron. That was fine in her book. She had another meeting to focus on.
Unlike the Stoke-Dorchester, the Wolf and Rose was a standard mid-level hotel. It occupied ten stories from levels fifty to sixty in a megascraper and boasted a hot tub and indoor pool. It was the kind of place middle-class families from off-planet would stay. Or a young couple celebrating a night out on the town.
It was also the kind of place you didn’t wear a skimpy see-through dress to. Luckily, the hour was late, and no children or angry parents were around to see Jayne as she entered the lobby, bypassed the gawking night receptionist, and took the elevator to the hotel’s fifth floor.
Using the mirrored back wall, she smoothed her dress and adjusted her cleavage. By the time the elevator chimed and the doors slid open, she was ready to go.
She strode down the carpeted floor, noting the ascending numbers. A woman moaned in pleasure behind one of the doors and a TV blared from another. But this was a different sort of mission with no spying involved. She turned a corner and finally reached her destination. Room five-thirty-five stared her in the face. Jayne stared back.
She knocked.
Officer Cameron Blue Eyes opened the door. He wore only a towel, which put all his lean muscles on display for her distinct viewing pleasure. He stepped to the side and held the door open for her. “Come on in.”
Jayne grinned. Her eyes drank in every detail of his body. “Don’t mind if I do.”
The door closed behind them and they were left to the night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Theron Techcropolis Gateway Building, L45, Theron Techcropolis, Armaros
The door to the Interstellar Spy Agency slid open, and Jayne stepped inside. The routine of arriving to work had already become second nature to her. Jayne took in a deep breath. Ah, that new office smell.
She took off her coat and her hand effortlessly penetrated the wall as she hung it up on the Hide-A-Hook. It was a bit of an extravagance, but Jayne and Merry quickly agreed on it. The Hide-A-Hook hid the clutter of hanging coats behind a wall-blending.
Was it necessary? To Jayne and Merry, yes. The ISA needed to impress. If the office didn’t immediately impress a potential client, Jayne would never get the chance to do that either.
The lighting in the room dimmed automatically, based on a series of settings Merry had programmed in. Another tiny luxury, Jayne thought, another impressed client..
She rounded her desk and plopped down in her chair. She leaned back and kicked her feet up on the desk. She felt good. She looked around her office. The lighting was welcoming, but serious. The furniture was, as she wanted, mid-33rd century modern. Could use a few personal touches. Maybe a holo-vase in the corner. Some art on the walls. But that would come with time. And with more clients.
And at that thought, Jayne’s stomach growled. The first job had paid well. Well enough to create Jayne’s dream office. But sacrifices had been made, and it was time to take on another job.
The first job paid for their office, but if they didn’t line up some high profile jobs soon, they’d be at crisis levels. Hopefully I’ll never have to start eating every other day, she mused before remembering she turned into a slow, pissed off wildebeest when she was hungry. Hypoglycemia didn’t exactly scream professional either.
Jayne sighed.
She locked her tablet onto her desk, and the screen glowed into a bright blue.
Loading… Loading…
The soft light spread to about an inch from her tablet at all sides, looking like a sickly frame against the wood. Jayne swiped the projector function on her tablet and a hologram image four feet wide pixelated into focus before her eyes. Jayne selected the Aquarium app and picked 19th Century Reef. The colors and activity were soothing, even with the reddish octopus stalking his fish prey. Jayne watched, deep in thought, relating to both the octopus and its prey.
That’s right. I can be the octopus, or the prey. I must be—What the?
Dark-lined eyes appeared behind the Aquarium app screen. It took a second for Jayne to realize it was Merry. Her cheeks were sucked in and she was making fish motions with her lips, desperately trying not to giggle.
Jayne scrambled to sit up, embarrassed that her friend had managed to get the jump on her.
“Did I interrupt something important?” Merry asked with a wicked twinkle.
Jayne sat upright in her chair. “You did. And it’s very important. I think the office needs a personal touch. Maybe a couple—”
Merry placed two large holo-vases on Jayne’s desk. “I got you the orchid, rose, and condolence bouquet programs.”
Jayne laughed. They hadn’t known each other long, but they did know each other very well.
Jayne looked for the button on the vase and set it to Orchid. Holograms of delicate white and purple blooms elegantly sprouted from the silver vase. “I’m feeling zen already.”
“It’s almost enough to get me to meditate.”
“I was thinking we’ll need briefing screens. Maybe a couple tech tables.”
“Now you’re thinking.”
Jayne scratched her head. “That’s about as far as I got before I was so rudely interrupted.”
“How about a sofa bed?”
“Huh?”
“A sofa bed. That way you could sleep here.” Merry unpacked her laptop and placed it on her lap.
“More hacking?” Jayne raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t want to know,” Merry deadpanned. “Besides, we were talking about you needing a sofa bed in here.”
“Why?”
“So you can live here.” Merry grimaced at her screen as it beeped at her.
“Why?”
“So you can move out of the student residence.”
“And again I ask, why?”
Merry’s face took on a brief, incredulous grimace. “How old are you? Three?”
“No,” Jayne flipped her the middle finger. “I’m this many.”
“So mature, Jayne. Think about it. You’re running a spy service and live in a dorm. Don’t you think a roommate might kinda-sorta be a problem?”
“Jess? She’s the least of our concerns. We could run our entire operation out of my dorm room and she’d never even notice.” Jayne stood up and perched on her desk. It felt rebellious. She straightened her shoulders. “The hall is free.”
“But if anyone burned you it would seriously mess things up for all of us,” Merry insisted. “And the hall is not free. The price? Nine easy payments of blowing your cover.”
“I need to keep up the appearances of being a student. The dorm is literally part of my cover.”
“I can see it now. Your roommate goes to borrow a bottle of shampoo and ‘whoops!’ This must be the cabinet where we keep the stun guns and selvanium bomb blueprints.” The light from Merry’s laptop lit up her black eyeliner and dark purple lipstick, further accentuating her deathly goth pallor.
Jayne sighed. “I could get a safe installed.”
Merry took a giant swig of her kava without missing a keystroke or taking her gaze from the screen. �
��By the way, have you thought about getting into one of the Governor’s parties? Big rooms full of big, important people with big, important problems,” her eyes twinkled again, “and big, important reputations to protect.”
Jayne grimaced and folded her arms. “We talked about this. I don’t want to track down cheating husbands, or wives trying to get around their pre-nups.”
Merry exasperatedly twirled one of the highlights in her hair. Jayne noticed she had dyed them that morning to match her eyeshadow. “You have to dip your toes in a revenue stream sometime. Once they trust you, they’ll give you bigger jobs. You need to bring in the cash…” she gesticulated broadly to highlight the new room décor, “for all this!”
Jayne shook her head.
“Aaaand, you need the money to pay me. The big jobs will pay well, yes, but they won’t pay often. I need tech equipment, and I’ll need new tech equipment often. Just to stay up to speed with competition.” Merry continued working on her computer as she rattled off the equipment Jayne would need. “Servers, pre-made Trojan patches, entanglement cores. And that’s just the computing. I’ll bet you also need gear for the more physical end of things: surveillance gear, night vision features, stun guns, stealth droids, extra tablets, audio and visual bugs…”
As the list went on, Jayne felt dizzier.
“…and dildos!” Merry called out randomly.
“For what?!”
“I’d get a serious kick getting a tax write off for a dildo, so please consider it. Anyway, why was I talking about this? Oh, yeah! The parties. They’d be great schmoozing opportunities for potential business.”
“If you want to schmooze so bad, you go schmooze.”
“I don’t schmooze. You’re the schmoozer, I’m the hacker.”
Jayne stood up and walked to the couch so she could face Merry. Sometimes Jayne felt like Merry was so deep in her hacking she hardly had her attention. “I don’t want to waste my time schmoozing with rich, jilted husbands when I could be in the field, using my skills to really…” She trailed off. Merry was giving her an eye. She knew Jayne hadn’t thought this speech through entirely. “I want to make a difference. And I won’t meet those people schmoozing.” There was that word again.
Expelled Page 21
