The uncomfortable humidity of the landing pad gives way to a breezy warmth once we step inside the floating facility's reception area. I breathe a sigh of relief to be out of the wet heat, and Audrey does the same beside me.
"That's much better," she says before stretching her arms up over her head. "I could really go for a shower now."
"I imagine that's part of the package," I reply, reaching up and tapping the contact on the side of my interface specs to bring up the booking details for our stay. This takes a couple of tries, since my fingertips are sweaty.
The brief agenda we received doesn't explain exactly what a 'Two-Day Couples' Silver Package' entails, and I've never been to a spa before here or anywhere in the galaxy. But I've seen films, and they do usually include a shower. We can expect some means of getting clean, I'm sure. I shrug, pushing the message off my lenses with a flick of my eyes.
The Calpara Floating Healthcare Centre and Resort has chosen yellowish off-white as the primary colour for its reception area. The architecture is all flat, clean surfaces and smooth lines. The tables in the waiting area have no sharp corners, and the chairs and surfaces are coated in a thin, spongy layer that absorbs our weight beneath our boots. A toddler could run rampant through this place, tripping all the while, and never do itself harm.
The artificial lighting is minimal. At our backs, wide windows and the glass double doors leading to the landing pad let in the brilliant sunset orange of Calpara's gas-laden sky. The platform has been built on the zenith of the lower atmosphere's densest layer, held up by clever gravitonics and the mass of the billowing gas below. The view outside is a vista of rolling yellow-white clouds, the beaming sun above visible through a haze of fog. As such, the facility interior is seeping with buttery, yellow light. Combined with the heat and the damp weight of my sleeves, moving my hand in the air in front of my face feels like pushing it through honey.
"Yes, hello. Welcome to Calpara."
I lower my hand with a flush of embarrassment. The young woman standing before us is smiling in greeting. The short-sleeved, polo-necked tunic she is wearing must be the resort's uniform, labelled by the arc-shaped logo on the breast. The skirt of the tunic descends only to her mid-thigh, and her legs are bare down to the soft white of her shoes. It's a lot of skin to show, but maybe they have to dress like this on a hot world like Calpara. I'm certainly not complaining. She's awfully pretty.
Like all of the staff at the resort, I assume, our concierge is a Cardinali. Her people are native to the nearby Cardinal Worlds, a small union of colonised planets in the western spiral arm of the galaxy. They had their first contact with the Humans of Earth about ten years ago when they joined us as members of the wider Federated Planets. Calpara is within what is known as the Extended Cardinal Inclusion Zone, meaning star systems containing Cardinal industry but no residential facilities, and these are the only worlds of theirs that aliens are allowed to visit.
This woman is a typical Cardinali. Her skin is a lovely salmon colour, her sclera black with shimmering, mercury irises. Cardinali are mostly Human-like in appearance, the product of our galaxy's unexplainable obsession with 'humanoid' sentient design, though with a pronounced ridge of bone visible down the spine and above their cheeks. They are significantly shorter than most Humans, and our guide here only reaches the bottom of my ribcage. Her body is curvaceous and stocky, another feature of her species, and I'm a big fan of the soft excess of her chest and hips. She has a nice smile too, and her sleek, black ponytail bounces playfully as she moves her head.
"You are Mrs Audrey Taylor and Mr Ethan Taylor?" the concierge asks, checking a small terminal strapped watch-like to the inside of her wrist.
"That's us," Audrey replies with an apologetic smile. "Sorry we're late."
"The ferry needed an unexpected refuelling at Perseus," I explain needlessly.
"Oh, it is no problem. The first of your experiences is ready for you, if you have no objection to beginning right away. Would you like to follow me?"
"Thanks," says Audrey, and she takes my hand as we are led from the reception area and deeper into the platform.
The platform healthcare resort on Calpara is home to a subdued busyness. Groups of customers in billowing, white gowns are escorted through the airy courtyards and curved corridors by smiling Cardinali attendants, while other staff take their ease with plastic mugs of water by one of the many windows looking out on the serenely cloudy sky of the planet. Conversation is kept to a respectful hush, a subtle complement to the ambient flute music wafting from speakers in the walls. The atmosphere makes it feel more like an art museum than a healthcare centre, but either way, I am already starting to relax. I agree with Audrey, a shower and a change of clothes would be very welcome. One of those comfy-looking bathrobes, maybe. As we pass by a pair of Cardinali girls, who bob their heads to us with polite, round-cheeked smiles, Audrey squeezes my hand.
"It's
all
girls here," she remarks in a whisper, leaning up towards my ear.
She isn't a short woman, my Audrey, and she looks like a basketball player among all these diminutive Cardinali. Her dirty blonde hair is pinned ruthlessly to the back of her head with a plastic clip to keep it out of the way while we are travelling, and her freckled cheeks are still flushed with the sudden rise of temperature on this alien world. I watch her green eyes lock onto another little gaggle of Cardinali, all female and all awfully pretty, who are talking amongst themselves outside some sort of staff respite room on the far side of our corridor.
"I read about that," I reply in my own whisper. "The Cardinal Worlds are eighty-five percent female."
"No!" Audrey puts a hand over her mouth. "Is that a genetic thing?"
"I think so, yeah."
"How does that work? Wouldn't they just all die out?"
"Apparently not," I reply with a shrug. When I do, my travelling jumpsuit weighs my shoulders down, heavy with moisture. "Nobody's sure how they manage to keep their species going, since the Cardinal Worlds themselves are off-limits to outsiders. But there are rumours."
"Go on," prompts my wife with a coy smile.
I check our periphery for prying ears and then continue. "Apparently, Cardinali males have semen a thousand times more potent than a Human's. And rumour has it that men on the Cardinal Worlds don't need jobs. They just sleep with women all day as their civic duty, and the government recompenses them for their service. That's how they keep their numbers up."
"Wow." Audrey giggles. "I bet you'd hate that!"
Our concierge pauses to open one of the sliding doors along our corridor with a wave of her hand, and I admire the way the skirt of her polo tunic ripples around her pinkish thighs.
"I wouldn't complain," I say with a laugh, and then we are led into the suite.
Now this feels a lot more like a healthcare centre. The suite is a clinical, porcelain office, lit artificially with soft, yellow light and with a distinct, floral scent. I don't really know flowers, so 'floral' is the best description I have for it. It's a bit like stepping into a florist's. Clean, white cabinets on the far wall, plus a small, circular table and a pair of soft-looking seats, surround the centrepiece of this 'first experience', a pair of rounded, high-rimmed bathtubs. The flute music is a touch louder in here than out in the hallways, and it echoes pleasantly against the tiling.
"Welcome!" says a cheery voice. "You must be the Taylors! So nice to meet you!"
