The Pharoah Contract

When they were done, Auliss went away for a few minutes, then reappeared in what seemed to be a pangalac adaptation of Pharaohan seraglio wear, a wispy aquamarine scarf that wrapped around one thigh, cinched her waist and then veiled her small breasts with a mist of color, to finish with a turn around her shoulder. Her skin was very smooth. She soon pointed out that the knot at her shoulder would succumb to a single tug, which he confirmed.

She made love with more enthusiasm than skill. Ruiz found this charming and disarming.

After a period in which they lay together, looking up through the bubble at the stars and sipping a sweet Pharaohan wine, she asked, “Shall I call Meraclain? I trained her myself, but she has a natural aptitude. I think it’s a cultural thing.”

Ruiz was momentarily tempted; but then he felt a flicker of weary distaste. And perhaps Auliss might take any interest in her bondservant for disappointment in her unassisted performance. “Another time, perhaps.”

Auliss smiled, and Ruiz perceived that he had made the correct decision. “Perhaps. A shame you’re not already wearing your Pharaohan disguise; we would ask her to critique its authenticity. How will you go? You could easily play the part of a noble, with your height and features.”

“Alas! No such appealing role for me. I’ll learn more and travel faster as a snake oil peddler than as a muckety, though my bed won’t be as soft.” Ruiz touched Auliss’s breasts delicately and lay his head against them. She laughed and pulled him down into the cushions for a more measured exchange of pleasure.

An hour later, he had become restless, which Auliss sensed and seemed not to take personally. Perhaps she had kept company with other League agents whose mission-imperative allowed them little relaxation. After a while, she suggested that they dress and go up to the crew recreation area.

“Why not?” he said.

As they left, he glanced at Meraclain the bondservant. She returned his look boldly.

* * *

The crew area began with a broad corridor in the main module of the station. The station employed thousands of humans and a number of other beings, and at first glance it seemed to Ruiz that there was a different bar for each of these, marked by a string of glowing holosigns that disappeared around the curve of the hull.

Auliss tugged him toward one of these, called The Little Friend.

Inside, the bar was dark but for the bluish glow of a holotank in one corner. The tables clustered around the tank, and a dozen or so humans gathered there, intent on the flickering images.

“Come,” Auliss said. “Let’s see what we can see.” She led him to a table, signaled a barmech, exchanged greetings with several of the others. It was soon apparent that she was a regular at The Little Friend.

The barmech provided them with drinks, a pale smoky brandy that Auliss recommended. Ruiz looked at the holotank, curious to see what Auliss found so entertaining.

The hot sunlight of Pharaoh glared on a dry wash, where three children, two girls and a boy, were playing some elaborate game. They seemed to be twelve or thirteen, just at the threshold of puberty.

The children stood a few meters apart from one another, in a roughly triangular pattern. At the feet of each was a pile of stones. The game seemed to involve guessing, bluffing, and physical agility. The children would engage in a vigorous dialogue, laughing and making faces, then at some unseen signal extend their hands, which would contain a varying number of stones. A shout would go up, and the children would dart for each other’s bases. Occasionally a collision occurred, which was cause for more laughter. The tank’s viewpoint shifted among the players, occasionally zooming in for a close-up of the boy, who had clean regular features, strong white teeth, and heavy-lashed sloe-shaped eyes.

All in all, an engaging scene, Ruiz thought, though, glancing at his fellow patrons, he wondered at the intense attention with which they watched the children.

“It’s the boy,” Auliss whispered. “He’s the one.”

What was she talking about? He started to ask her for a clarification, but the holotank switched modes. The scene of the playing children shrank down into the lower third of the tank, and a chubby smiling man, dressed as a Pharaohan, appeared in the top.

“Hello, hello,” he said. “Key your bids now.”

Ruiz felt his face grow stiff.