Redeeming Factors (Revised)

by James R. Lane

  “Please state your name and business.” Not, ”May I help you?” Not, “Welcome to Patrons!” Not even, “Hello, my name is Broomhilda.” She didn’t appear overtly hostile, but she was about as far from cordial as was humanly possible.

  “My name is Jack Ross,” he stated, trying to hide his irritation and keep his voice and manner as businesslike as possible. “I have an appointment with Teddy Shapiro.” He paused to see if that would break the ice or get him rousted by Security. She turned to her desktop computer, dragged and clicked the mouse for about ten seconds, then underwent an amazing transformation, changing from an automaton to a human being in the proverbial blink of an eye.

  “Welcome to Patrons, Mr. Ross,” she literally purred, a wide smile pleasantly lighting up her middle-aged features. “I’ve notified Mr. Shapiro of your arrival and he will be out momentarily.” She still didn’t offer her name, nor was there any place for Ross to sit while he waited. He sighed and smiled distantly, nodding his head while folding his arms and preparing to stand like a totem pole in front of her desk for the next hour if necessary.

  But the receptionist was true to her word. Less than a minute passed before the lone door to her right swung open and Shapiro’s booming voice preceded him into the cramped room. “Jack old friend! All the years I’ve known you, you’ve never been late to either a meeting or a funeral, and once again you’re right on time. Come inside where it’s comfortable.”

  Theodore “Teddy” Shapiro was a big-boned man with a theatrically deep voice. Ross had known him for well over twenty years, and held him in the highest regard. Patrons was, for all the public and even the employees knew, Shapiro’s brainchild, but the closer Shapiro came to opening the doors for business the more uncertain about the whole thing the man became. Shapiro had acquired a rip-roaring case of conscience, and while the H’kaah weren’t human they were still classified as “people”. He didn’t want to go down in history as a modern-day Jewish slave trader.

  Once safe in Shapiro’s large and comfortable oak-paneled office the men could relax. Ross declined an offer of whiskey or beer, accepting instead a chilled bottle of plain Perrier from a tiny refrigerator. Shapiro poured himself a stiff double Cutty Sark over ice with a splash of soda, then eased his bulky frame into one of the two leather-covered rocker-recliner chairs reserved for visitors. Ross claimed the other one, finding it far more accommodating than he’d imagined it could be.

  “Well, Jack, it’s all come down to this, and we think we’re ready on this end. I did it exactly the way we planned, and the girls—I just can’t bring myself to refer to them as ‘females’ or ‘does’—don’t seem to have a problem with the wording of the contract.” He took a hard, nervous pull on his drink. “I just hope they really understand what they’re getting themselves into.”

  Ross smiled, saying, “That’s why I’m the first customer. They’ve all had time to think about it and talk it over among themselves. In a few minutes they’re going to meet a real, live client seeking to become a patron—only THIS client will be a lot fairer and most likely a whole lot nicer than many of the ones who’ll follow. I’ll make damned sure they know their rights, their protections, their responsibilities and their obligations. Hell, man, that’s why we hired that expensive Jewish lawyer to write the contract in the plainest English possible. These people are going to have a hard enough time dealing with this as it is; they don’t need our legal system screwing them over worse than some of the patrons will undoubtedly try to do.” He paused to pull hard on the bottle of water, then added, “I just hope to God all this doesn’t come unglued.” The men finished their drinks, and Shapiro led Ross down a maze of hallways, pointing out several special rooms as they walked. But before they reached their destination Ross stated, “Tzvi, I hate to shit in your Easter basket before the first bunny’s out the door, but you need to do something right now about how Patrons greets its customers. That glorified closet you call a reception area has to go. Also, I don’t know where in ‘central casting’ you found that desk-jockey out there, but tell ‘Broomhilda’ to either lose the Nazi attitude or hit the road. With the prices Patrons is charging its customers you won’t be dealing with low-income losers, and if the rest of our clients get the kind of bargain-basement welcome I got when I walked in the door, this ship will sink before it even leaves the dock.” Shapiro took Ross’ colorful criticism in stride, promising to make changes before the day ended. Giving birth to this business, he mentally sighed, is hell-for-tough on relationships. His new ladyfriend considered herself to be the ideal receptionist.

  They finally entered a modest conference room, complete with a rectangular wooden table in the center surrounded by open-back fabric-covered armchairs. At the far end of the table was a matching executive-style chair; that’s where Ross was directed to sit. Every chair position had a legal pad, two pencils and a water glass in front of it. Several large, chilled bottles of spring water were strategically positioned along the length of the table, as were a few small party trays of vegetable snacks, nuts, crackers and vegetarian dips. The whole scene looked more like a classic setting for a business meeting instead of history-in-the-making. Shapiro left, then was soon back, holding the door open to allow a dozen H’kaah females to hesitantly file in and nervously take seats around the table.

  “Girls, this is Jack Ross,” the big man stated. “Mr. Ross is our first client and he hopes to become the patron of one of you. But since he’s also been a trusted friend of mine for many years he’s offered to help us get things off to a smooth start. He has some things to say that I think you’ll find interesting.” Shapiro smiled and then left, closing the door behind him.

  It’s showtime, Ross silently mused, his stomach echoing the thought by doing a slow barrel roll.

  The H’kaah “girls” were dressed in identically styled petite satin halter-tops and matching shorts, the clothing’s color being the only variable. On their large rabbit-like feet they wore dainty color-coordinated Roman-style sandals. Several had their human-long scalp hair pulled back and tied with ribbons that matched their outfits, while others wore their hair in braids or had it conservatively styled to accentuate their ears. Like rabbits, their skin was completely fur-covered, and also like rabbits their fur came in different lengths, colors and patterns, their ears differing slightly in height and shape. Two of them were droop-eared French lops, and one of the lops sported thick, silky, angora-length russet fur, the tips of her ears and tail jet-black. All of them had the most incredibly beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

  In his younger years Ross had seen photos of the world-famous Playboy Clubs before they became extinct, and he had been fascinated by concept of “bunny girl” waitresses, sexy young women wearing clip-on rabbit ears and powder-puff tails. Now, decades later, he was facing a roomful of the genuine article, and he found them to be undeniably feminine and sexy beyond the point of merely exotic, yet at the same time they were disturbingly alien. He noticed that he was beginning to sweat.

  What his fidgety audience saw was a middle-aged, light-skinned human male (the H’kaah had been amazed to find that humans’ skin color varied almost as much as their own fur color) of human-average height and trim build. His short head-fur was a pale, washed-out brown with gray mixed in it just above and in front of the absurdly small ears, and the fur on his arms was so sparse and light that it may as well not been there. The exposed skin, the females noted, seemed slightly weather worn, with a scattering of pigment imperfections humans called “freckles”.

  Most aliens felt the flat, wide finger claws humans sported were useless; at least, the females noted, this human’s were short and well groomed. Ross’ eyes were an icy pale blue, an eye color unknown among the lapin aliens, and a feature that drew the females’ attention like a magnet.

  Each one was carefully evaluating Ross, comparing what she was seeing against known human standards. Knowing that he was just as much “on display” with the females as they were with him didn’t help his nerves
; it didn’t lower his perspiration level, either.

  “Good morning, ladies,” he said with what he hoped was a warm smile. His voice, a solid and well-modulated baritone, seemed to startle virtually all of his audience, and those with upright ears oriented them in his direction; this made him

  sweat all the more. I’ve gotta get a grip, he thought grimly.

  “Mr. Shapiro asked me to be Patrons’ first client because, as his long-time friend, he knows he can trust me. He even agreed to suspend some of the rules that are supposed to govern these meetings. All that means is that for this time and this time only you will be allowed an extra measure of freedom and choice. Unlike future client meetings in which every word will be recorded, what we say in here today will be ‘off the record’, and any comments, complaints and refusals you make will not go on your records.” He looked at the nonhuman faces and easily recognized surprise on their softly defined features. Maybe, he thought, this won’t be as difficult as I had feared.

  “I’ll review the basic obligations both you and the company agreed to follow, along with the main points of the contract you and your patron will sign once an agreement has been reached. If at any time during this you have any questions, any points that you don’t fully understand, I want you to speak up. OK?” He got a few ear-waving nods in response so he continued. “This is the first time we humans have tried a business venture like this with another sentient species. In our past we’ve conducted similar programs with countless other humans, yet in far too many regrettable instances we simply used force to make other humans into outright slaves, buying and selling them like animals, and often treating them even worse.” That got their attention! “Teddy Shapiro comes from a race of humans that was terribly abused throughout much of its long and ultimately tragic history, and he wants to insure that no such injustice happens to even a single H’kaah, male or female.”

  He paused to let that sink in and was gratified to see that every alien seemed to accept his statement at face value. He was doubly pleased because what he said about Shapiro was true, although the part about the meeting being “off the record” was an outright lie. Every word, every gesture, every expression was being carefully recorded for study by Shapiro and his staff, but true to Ross’ word any negative comments by the aliens would not be held against them. This was as much a learning experience for the Patrons staff as it was an educational experience for the H’kaah.

  For his part, Ross just wanted to get through it gracefully, and he found his nerves calming down as he began reading a clarified version of the multi-page form the aliens had signed.

  “By signing the initial contract with Patrons,” he read out loud, adding comments on-the-fly, “(each of) you agreed to allow Patrons to transport you to this planet (we call it Earth) where you will have the opportunity to enter into a specific two-planetary-year contract with a human family or individual who will, in both name and fact, become your patron. That specific contract requires your patron to first pay an agreed-upon fee that is collected by the company and held in escrow, to be split equally between the company and you upon your completion of the specific contract. Your patron will also pay an agreed-upon monthly fee to the company; the company, in turn, will keep a stated percentage of that fee for itself and pay you the remainder as a monthly salary. In addition to this money, your patron is required to directly provide you with suitable living arrangements, ample food to your liking, appropriate clothing and reasonable and necessary personal items.

  “In exchange for this monetary and material compensation your contract directs you to live with your patron in the manner and fashion he or she requires, and perform the duties and light chores your patron specifies. You will not be required to do manual labor in a factory or fieldwork on a farm, but it is possible you may be required to work in an office environment. It is also possible you will be expected to perform normal housekeeping duties for your patron and/ or help care for his, her or their children.

  “Any questions so far?” No questions. “Good.” He paused for a hard pull on his water glass before continuing. “Your patron is required to use reasonable care in protecting you from harm, and you will be contacted monthly by the company so that it may check on your welfare. Also, should there be a family emergency on your homeworld the company will do whatever is necessary to immediately contact you, and it will provide suitable transportation to and from your homeworld to allow you to deal with the emergency. During such times of personal crisis the contract with your patron will be suspended without penalty, or terminated at your request. In the case of contract termination under these conditions the initial fee held in escrow may or may not be forfeited, depending on a binding judgment made by the company.

  “If at any time you believe that your life is in danger, or that you are being abused, either physically or emotionally, you have the right to terminate the contract with your patron. Upon review and a favorable judgment by the company, you will be offered the opportunity to either secure a contract with another client or return to your homeworld. Under those conditions and regardless of your decision you will keep your portion of the initial payment along with the money you had earned. However, if the company feels that you violated the terms of your agreement with it, or the terms of the contract with your patron, the company will immediately return you to your homeworld. Should you be returned to your homeworld under such conditions you will forfeit the initial payment held in escrow, but you will keep what money you have earned during your contract period.” He took a breath. “Everybody OK with that?” More brief nods; this was really nothing they hadn’t already heard. Shapiro had worked hard to be fair.

  Now we come to the difficult part, Ross thought with a fresh stomach-flutter. “I’m sure you’re well aware that we humans have a…a fondness for your people that defies simple logic. Most humans find you to be physically attractive, and those humans who have spent time in the company of H’kaah genuinely enjoyed the experience.” He smiled, adding, “You make us feel good.” He let the smile fade before he continued reading from the paper.

  “Patrons also knows that there are humans who find you ‘attractive’ in ways than are not considered proper by either human or H’kaah moral/social standards. These humans may try to force you to do things that you find offensive, and/or they may physically abuse you. This abuse may be of a sexual nature, and while the company will do everything possible to screen out such people it must be understood that on occasion one may slip past its scrutiny. Should you wind up with such a patron you are NOT required to submit to ANY form of abuse, regardless of what your patron may say or threaten you with. Civilized human societies do not condone physical or sexual abuse of any sort, nor do we force our employees to do things that are contrary to the employees’ moral, religious or social standards. While living, working or visiting here ALL non-human sentients will enjoy that same level of protection. And should abuse of any kind take place, mankind’s laws will deal harshly with the abuser.”

  He placed the paper on the table and paused to let them chatter among themselves. Ross was fluent in both spoken and written H’kaah, but he kept that knowledge secret for the time being. He really didn’t need to understand their language to guess the general content of the squeaking/ chuffing/whistling/ chittering comments bouncing among the aliens. When it had quieted down he added one more observation.

  “You females are the first companion candidates to arrive here, but soon the company will expand the program to include qualified male H’kaah. They will be subject to the same rules that govern you, and they will also be afforded the same protections. Not all of our human sexual predators like females.” That set them to chattering among themselves with a vengeance. Ross chuckled to himself and had another welcome drink of water.

  In time they quieted and he asked for questions; they had none. He touched on a few more contractual points but all too soon he was done with company business and it was time to get personal. He began to sweat again, but
knew that delaying the inevitable didn’t make it any easier. He had conducted the “blackest” of operations under the most horrific conditions, torturing and killing people with his bare hands when necessary, yet he’d never been more apprehensive than he was at this moment.

  “As you were earlier told I am the company’s first client, and I hope to leave here today as its first patron. By human standards I am middle aged; I was married and we raised a small family, now grown. My wife and I legally dissolved our marriage six years ago and I now live alone in a comfortable home here in the city. I don’t smoke, nor do I have dogs or cats so you won’t have to worry about sharing a house with pets that might look upon you as lunch.” He momentarily grinned, then quickly continued when he noticed they didn’t find the comment amusing.

  “Well. As my companion your duties will consist of light housekeeping, preparing meals for the two of us within your dietary and cultural customs, shopping for home supplies and running errands. I expect you to help me with the occasional social and business events I host at my home, and…and—” he stumbled, painfully embarrassed by what he was about to say, “—and I’d like you to keep me company. I’m, uh, lonely.”

  Ross let them digest those remarks for a few moments, then cleared the lump from his throat and said, “You will find that I am probably more sensitive than most humans to our two species’ vast differences, and there’s a reason for that. I spent a brief period of time on your homeworld as a civilian volunteer in a cultural exchange program, and the group I was with dined with both your minister of cultural affairs and your president.” That surprised them more than anything he’d said to up to that point. “I’m proud to say I actually got through the meal without embarrassing myself or offending our hosts, something I don’t always manage to do in similar circumstances here on Earth.”