Cosmic Cabaret

by SFR Shooting Stars

  Pain stung Zane’s cheek as he bit a little too hard on the tender skin inside. Had Char and Bo come from the Freedom Road? Just how much did they know about where he came from? Or even about the Freedom Road?

  “There are some things we shouldn’t dive too far into, most of them include Veronika Elias’s business,” Zane said.

  “Yeah, but even those people have some semblance of a background. We’ve got zip on Melana.”

  Zane blinked and looked again at Dodge. Those people? Her face was unreadable until she tilted her chin up at him and gave him an intense look that seemed to say not to press further.

  “There’s all kinds of folks here on Quantum, many of them don’t want to be found. We in the security force are aware of that, we try not get too deep if we can help it. There’s a lot at stake for a lot of Blue Star crew.” Dodge’s voice trailed off. She looked meaningfully at the wall behind Zane.

  She knows? Just how deep does Blue Star go in protecting corporate refugees?

  “So from what you have or lack of, you’re figuring that Char was? What?” Zane tilted his head in question, hoping Dodge would pick up his train of thought and run with it, filling in the blank herself.

  “Maybe some sort of espionage?” She shrugged. “Who knows? I’m thinking someone at our last stop spotted her. Maybe decided to take her out?” She tapped her chin. “Or maybe she was spotted before that? Maybe someone who’s been biding their time? That’s speculation. We can’t know for sure until I get solid evidence. We’re going through passenger lists now, to see if we can’t get a bead on suspects.”

  “You’re saying the kid isn’t a suspect?” Zane scratched his chin.

  “I’m saying we need to protect him in case he’s the next target.”

  “Bo? Why?”

  “Stick to medical, Doc. We’re going to take him into custody as a suspect so nobody can get to him while we get to the bottom of this. We have Elias’s permission to hold him here.”

  “Fair enough,” Zane agreed. “Just don’t freak the kid out any more than necessary.”

  “We’ll try. He’s lost his mother. I get it. We aren’t monsters, you know.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Zane said. “Do you still need me here?”

  “No,” Dodge shook her head and leaned on the door behind her. “You busy later?” She was not looking at him in a very business-like manner. Maybe his gruffness was some kind of turn on for Dodge? Her intent was clear in the way she ran her tongue between her lips and smiled.

  Zane shook his head, straightened his back, and focused behind her. His party-boy reputation still haunted him, even now, in the middle of a crime investigation. His body didn’t react, not even a tiny stir in his jockeys.

  “Actually… I am busy. Okay if I get back to you about Bo, later? Don't forget to call Astra to come in and sit with the boy.” That, he thought, should make it very clear that they were all business.

  Dodge mirrored his stance, stood taller and took a step back. Her voice went flat. “I’ll do a better job of keeping you up to date.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’m going to review preliminary autopsy reports. I should have at least an overview of her injuries for you in less than an hour.

  Seven

  At the security office front desk, the clerk’s eyes told Astra all she needed to know. Unsympathetic. Blank. And the monotone “he’s in custody at this time,” replayed in her head with every step she took down the long bare corridor towards Zane Jones’ office.

  Astra paused at the sign that said Medical Examiner. She rotated her shoulders, feeling the tension balled up there. Stiff. Uncompromising. Steel knots formed from supple muscles. The plan she had come up with wasn’t her most brilliant. But she had to go through with it. Her head bent, she pushed her hair back from her shoulder and pondered. Bo was her family now, her only family, and Char would want her to protect him. Even if she had been planning to leave her behind when she took off to start a new life. That didn’t matter now because she had Bo to look after.

  Astra sheathed herself in righteousness, held her shoulders back took a deep breath while she read the nameplate on the door. Hand up to rap at the chime, poised, she hesitated. Comets and catastrophes, I need to hold this together. I’m not a spy. I can’t go through with this. No. No. I have to. Get your spine in line, Astra.

  Amidst Astra’s quandary, the door opened, Zane’s blue eyes begged a question. “Can I help you?”

  Jelly knees struck. Astra let her concern for Bo bolster her. Mind reinforced legs and kept them from buckling. She gazed at him, tried not to stare, but he was so beautiful. That blazing blonde hair, those dreamy blue eyes and the dimples now creeping onto his face. “I was looking for Bo. But they told me he was in custody. Are they charging him? What are they charging him with? What’s going on?” Hysteria crept into her voice. She didn’t hold it down. She didn’t care. She’d meant to play it cool, ask one question at a time, but the flood of concern won.

  “Yes, he’s being held in conjunction with the death, but I don’t think he’ll be held for long,” he said. “Didn’t they contact you to come sit with him?”

  “No, no I came on my own the second I heard he’d been called here for questioning. What do you mean? Is he a suspect? That can’t be, he loved his mother.”

  “I know that,” Zane’s voice softened, relieving a little of her concern. Their eyes locked. Warmth spread from her collarbone to her cheeks. “Don’t worry, they’re not putting him in a cell with criminals. We actually have a very nice room for him, cozy, lots of books. He’ll be fine until we get to the bottom of this.” He stopped and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t say more.”

  “You can’t or you won’t?” The jelly knees were gone in an instant. Iron will drove her forward. Ice chilled her voice. “Look at me, Doctor Jones.” A finger wag punctuated her words, pointing to him then herself. “No-no-no. I’m the next thing he has to a parent. Veronika isn’t close to him, she’s not his guardian. I’ve known Bo for longer than you, and he wouldn’t hurt anyone, save for anyone who might hurt his mother or me. So, I know he didn’t do it. And I know you can’t possibly have anything that says otherwise.”

  “Come into my office,” his voice had a ring of apology and concern. “You’re upset. Please? Let’s talk.” He backed away from the door and into his office allowing a space for her to slide through. She glided from the stark lights of the medical wing corridor into the warm tones of Zane Jones’ offices. There was a large framed stop action image behind his desk. In silver pen was Char’s scrawled autograph across the bottom. It was a representation of Char in the air on the silks, circling above the crowd in one of her signature moves.

  It took Astra by surprise.

  “Have a seat?” He pointed to the smooth plum colored couch. It made a little foof as she sat down.

  “I’m a fan of Veronika’s troupe because Veronika was a good person to me when I got here, even before I got here,” he said. Zane sat down next to her on the couch and looked down at the floor in front of him. He clasped his hands, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. He seemed to be debating something. His eyebrow scrunched and unscrunched. Finally, he turned to her, “I would never do anything to hurt the people of the Cabaret.” He emphasized those last words and ducked his head down slightly while keeping his eyes up at the signed poster on the wall.

  Did he mean the Freedom Road? “Okay?” She turtled her neck letting her voice rise in the question and prompted him to continue.

  “You need to know that I’m not a bad guy, that I would do anything to keep Bo and the Cabaret safe.” He turned and looked at her with his wise eyes pleading for understanding. “And I have a job to do here, can you trust me to do that?”

  “But Bo.”

  “Shhh…” he placed a finger near her lips. “He’s safe here. I promise. I know how much he means to you. But there’s so much at stake here. Much more than I can tell you.” And his words had a calming
effect on her. They rang true. She wasn’t sure exactly how she knew, but her instinct told her he was keeping an eye on Bo’s welfare.

  Yet, as his voice calmed her, the second his finger made contact, shockwaves jolted through her from the sensitive lips above to those buried deep in her tunic-covered slacks. The effect of his contact was intoxicating. The blue-eyed gazed turned from concern to desire. Following his caress, a warm flush tingled down across her neck, to her breastbone and out to the very tips of her upturned breasts. Throwing caution aside, pressed her lips into his finger and let them part.

  Zane didn’t move, his eyes widened, pupils dilating. Waiting. Inviting. Astra let her tongue out just a little. With eyes that spoke desire, his mouth replaced the finger with a gentle kiss.

  Floating.

  She put a tentative hand out to his chest to steady herself. It slid up to his collarbone, tracing along his jawline. Her lips parted, inviting him to delve deeper. The kiss became a groan. Astra let her tongue join his in a slow caress. His hands spanned her waist, drawing her into his embrace. An overwhelming feeling of belonging, of home, gripped her, tightening and squeezing her heart. Astra shuttered her eyes, containing a tear that threatened to reveal her need.

  Too much.

  Too soon.

  She chanced a glance as they parted for air. One of her hands found the back of his neck, the other palm was pressed to his chest. His arms encircled her now, encompassing her from waist to shoulders, holding her to like a precious jewel.

  “Astra,” he whispered.

  It was all she needed to let the tear slip out.

  “Are you sad?”

  “No, no,” she said. A bare whisper escaped her lips. “I’m-I—” The words caught in her throat where a lump had formed, blocking her from anything but another tear of happiness. She smiled and barely turned her head, “No.”. When she had stopped, she found a boyish grin lighting up his face.

  “Happy?” he asked. Then, Zane brushed his forehead against hers. She managed to swallow again, emotion settling.

  The heart rate that thudded in her ears drowned out her own response as she croaked, “Yes,” before she put her lips to his once more.

  Passion ignited. Sending jolts of powerful desire shuddering down her spine. In her dreams, Astra had fantasized about this moment. And now it was happening.

  She wanted to pinch herself.

  Was he really pulling her shirt over her head, unclasping her bra and nuzzling between her breasts. She imagined how it would feel as he massaged between her legs, readying her for his tongue.

  And now he was.

  On lonely nights, it was Zane that she imagined making love to her. And now, she let it wash over her, instincts following desire, leading her. Clothes became a blur. Lips and limbs tangled together in a frenzy of desire.

  Breathless.

  Zane knelt, sliding to the rug in front of the comfortable brushed fabric of the divan. Astra rolled her arms up over her head and let them dangle behind her. She arched her back and cried out as his fingers and tongue brought her to a breath and body shuddering climax. He moved up, not ceasing his exploration of her. Soft kisses trailed up her belly to her breasts where he stopped and paid due attention, nearly driving her crazy with want. When Zane’s ministrations to her soft nipples ceased, she brought her arms to cross them behind her head as she looked down at him.

  “You are beyond compare.” He smiled up at her. “Your body is amazing.” Her gaze followed his hands as they wandered to her waist and repositioned her on the couch so she could lay down the full length of it. He was over her, gazing down, waiting.

  It wasn’t a dream.

  An aftershock trembled through her.

  Why now? She wondered. Why is it ok to let him in now when she had avoided him for so long watching him slip from one passenger’s bed to another?

  There was a change. That was certain. The way he stood. The way he approached her. The way his face showed concern. Even before Char’s death, he wasn’t the same promiscuous doctor. She’d noticed and kept a watch. She allowed herself to play more, tease more, and get closer. Closer was what he was getting. Much closer. And her body responded, relaxing, coaxing her open.

  Zane looked down at her, she nodded consent, a languorous smile on her face. His nostrils flared, yet he filled her with deliberate, controlled, and gentle penetration.

  She gasped at the slow slide and motion. As they moved as one, Astra’s body took flight, like when she performed. Weightless. Effortless. Thrilling him, not a crowd, she moved as though on silks, winding her legs around him like her acrobatic apparatus.

  Zane’s face contorted. His breathe halted. He shook with the effort of constraint.

  She strained every muscle to perfect forms, bearing down, releasing, bearing down again all to please herself and her audience of one. They were partners, giving him what he wanted and receiving adulation in return. Their pace quickened. Adrenaline slammed through her. Stiffening her supple lines.

  Through a light-headed, half-lidded, dream-like state, she heard him. “Astra. Oh sweetness. You are so fine.” His voice reached a peak, straining with his body as they both grabbed to the moment, taut muscled and flying free.

  Eight

  An hour later, Zane was staring at a report. The moments spent with Astra obliterated by the words on the page. Dread clenched his belly as Zane read the preliminary forensic reports. More were forthcoming, but what he had right now was enough to put this investigation into overdrive. The bruises matched those of a very compact weapon and not, as previously thought, from a fall. The report indicated that Char was beaten with a very strong fist, foot, or other blunt object that had a lot of power behind it. And then she was strangled. She died from the asphyxiation and pressure on her larynx. The database query was searching through standard weapons to match the imprinted bruising on Char’s body.

  But who? Why?

  The search for answers would start in one place, the cabaret’s manager, Veronika Elias. Between DC Dodge’s assumptions and his own knowledge of the Freedom Road, he was the only person who could ferret out whatever it was that the cabaret manager was keeping in her web of secrets. He slid his thumb across the smooth surface of his desk to schedule a request for a personal interview in her office.

  The desk screen faded out at the final tap of his index finger. The holographic image above disappeared in a blink.

  The game was about to begin. Cat and mouse? Hide and seek? Zane was going to have to put pressure on Veronika for answers. But the oaths he swore, oaths he never intended to break, meant he would not be able to reveal the answers if they involved the Freedom Road. And if they did, would she even tell him?

  When he stood up, Zane straightened his uniform, smoothing out any wrinkles in his pant legs. It was a subconscious movement that belied what was going on in his brain. The evidence was like a jigsaw with large gaping holes in the center, and the pieces left were clumped into little islands that didn’t connect to the main puzzle frame. They sat there to the side, in his subconscious, mocking him.

  In any version of reality, he’d never have thought he would be forced to take the opposite side of the table from her. She represented the group of freedom fighters that saved him from corporate enslavement and created for him a new place in life. This place where he could get up daily and not have to face trying to save kids from the carnage of military massacres. That was the time before; it seemed so long ago, as if he had read about it in a book and not lived through it.

  Out of his office he breathed in the lightly scented air of Quantum. In the medical pod, it was a soothing minty scent they liked to call “Kitchen Garden.” He’d met some of the atmosphere engineers, and he was convinced they just picked random words out of a book to name the flavors of the air they created.

  Along the promenade, the scent changed. At this time of the artificial day it was scented with s floral musk mixed with sweet spices like vanilla and cardamom. The cyclical changes of scents r
otated, triggering the subconscious of the passenger and crew alike.

  Drifting along on the subtle scents of morning, he let his mind wander back to those first days, the days when he was a sad mess of a man. The darkness inside the container made it a womb of solace, with only the hum of the engines as comfort for days on end, waiting for the stop that he was promised. When he emerged, he was ready for a new start.

  Or so he thought.

  After that voyage of shadow, when he got to Quantum, Veronika Elias had already found him a place elsewhere within the organization as a medical examiner. More recently, he’d been assigned back to Quantum to use his forensic and surgical skills for the medical and security team’s insurance needs. He would determine cause of death, and decide if it was or was not related to any negligence on Blue Star’s part. It was the best use made of his forensics until now. The murder of an old friend, Char Melana, changed all of that.

  Deep from within his memories, something stirred. The need to stand by his friends and not remain the detached and damaged creature he realized he had become. Growing stronger. He examined his broken parts at the distance that time afforded. Veronika Elias and Le Mouche Cabaret had been a part of that healing.

  Zane nodded to the bouncer at the door and was let in. “Is Veronica at her usual table?”

  “No, it’s office hours. I’ll direct you.” A nymph-like furry blue burlesque dancer stepped forward and motioned for him to follow her. Zane canted his head towards her and followed. The tassels on her costume bounced against her bare bottom and were kept in place by the tiny G-string lost in the pelt of aquamarine fur that lay flat and smooth across the roundness. Sequins on her scanty top caught the amber light along the hallway. As he followed her, Zane couldn’t remember having been there before.