Intergalactic Courtesan

Exhausted by her recent ordeal, Desirée could only gape.

Veronica shook herself. "I'm sorry. You're tired and this was a bad time." She started walking down the hall, Desirée following her.

"You're jealous," she said suddenly. "You were worried that Cyraena might take me away from you."

Veronica spun around, her face darkening. "I am-" Then she stopped, her face tightening. "Perhaps a little." She pushed the elevator call button. Within seconds, the double doors opened and the two women stepped onto the elevator. Veronica leaned against the glas-steel wall, her eyes closed.

"I'm sorry," Desirée said. She was conscious of her messy hair, the dried sweat and fluids caking her skin under her skin-tight Guild uniform. "I shouldn't have-"

The older courtesan sighed. Desirée felt the weight of gravity on her shoulders as the elevator began moving. "No. You're right. My relationship with Cyraena is . . . complicated. You know that we used to be lovers?"

This was news to Desirée but she nodded anyway.

"We were the best in our year," Veronica continued, "and we rose quickly in the Guild. Looking back at it, I suspect we both wanted to outdo the other, which was why we did so well. Even when we became lovers, there was still that edge to our relationship: we tried new techniques on one another, each trying to prove that we were the better lover." She grinned. "It was like dancing on the edge of a volcano: tense, but fun."

"So what happened?"

"The position of Guild Administrator became vacant," she answered, shaking her curly brown hair. "The funny thing is that I don't think Cyraena even wanted the position. Certainly I've never seen any aptitude towards administration in her. But when I applied, she immediately transmitted her application as well. It's like she only wanted it because I did."

Veronica sighed. "Our relationship became more . . . difficult after that. There was only room for one candidate and I think she viewed it as the ultimate test to see which one of us was the better courtesan.

"And you got the job."

"And I got the job," Veronica confirmed. "And that was the end for us. We said some horrible things to each other, and Cyraena said some even worse things to the Council. That's part of the reason why she stays here at Galos IV; she's still paying the price for all those bridges she burned."

"So this was all just another part of your competition?" Desirée found herself getting angry.

"Not on my part." Veronica took the young woman's hand. "You don't know what it's like to be the only human in the Guild. Even though I had friends, there were things I could never discuss with them, memories I could never share. It wasn't that they couldn't empathize; but they couldn't understand. But being with you has filled that void I had denied in myself for all those years. You've brought Earth back to life in me, and that's a gift I can never repay.

"But I knew, as soon as our relationship became known, Cyraena would begin to covet you."

"So why didn't you tell me about her?"

"Several reasons," Veronica replied. "First, I hoped she would teach you something of her skills. She really is extraordinary and she's rarely been interested in passing along her knowledge.

"And second," Veronica's eyes flickered away, "You needed to learn how rough politics can be in the Guild. You've done very well for yourself, so far and that has made you noticed. While there is a certain lip service paid to seniority in the Guild, it's not uncommon to see more junior courtesans with greater influence in the Guild than courtesans who have been there many years longer. That can cause a great deal of resentment among older Guild members and, given your rapid rise so far, it's something you'll need to be aware of as you continue as a courtesan."

Desirée frowned, hearing something in the older woman's voice. "Is there something else you want to tell me?"

Veronica looked at her, then opened and closed her mouth. "There's no easy way to say this," she finally said. "Watching you with Cyraena and Senator Vrykolakas, I realized that, as wonderful as you've been, there's simply too many centuries between us for this relationship to work. "

Desirée closed her eyes, leaning against the elevator wall. Part of her always knew this day would come but it still hurt to hear Veronica breaking up with her.

"I'm 466 years old, Desirée," she continued, "while you haven't even lived a quarter of a century yet. Did you really think we really had a future together?"

"We never had a chance, did we?" Desirée's exhaustion, turned into anger. "What was I to you? Just something to play with?"

Veronica's eyes flashed but she kept her voice calm. "An excellent student, a good friend, and one of the finest young courtesans I've ever seen. You have an excellent future, whether you decide to stay in the Guild or choose another career. You were a wonderful lover but that's not enough for me anymore." She paused for a moment, then said, "I hope we can still be friends."

Just then the elevator door opened. "That's just fucking wonderful for me, isn't it?" Desirée snapped, storming out. Behind her, she heard a "Desirée" but then nothing. The young blonde strode down the hall towards her room , the door irising open when it registered her UTD. She flung herself onto her bed and started crying.

***

Desirée was in the shower when Ssurhuk-T'at called. The froglike alien appeared in her retinas, a projection provided by her UTD.

"Hello, Desirée." His three eyes were hard to read behind his glasses. "I am sorry to bother you, but a situation has arisen. Could you come by my office please?"

She forced her mind to think past her emotional trauma. "Could you give me 10 minutes?"

"Certainly. Ssurhuk-T'at out."

She quickly rinsed herself, then switched the shower nozzle to radiant heat in order to dry herself. As soon as she was done, she sprinted to her dresser to get some clean clothes. She forced herself only to think of what was ahead.

***

"Thank you for coming," Ssurhuk-T'at waved her to a smart chair. "Guild Courtesan Desirée Tanner, meet Inspector Jo-Burrsh of the Confederation Bureau of Investigations."

Desirée tried to control her shock as she came face-to-face with the massive Taurean. She had never truly met one of his species before, which resembled the Minotaur of Terran myth. The only time she had ever interacted with one of the creatures, it had been a construct created by the mysterious Throzaahli.

"Can we get to the point?" Jo-Burrsh ignored her proffered hand. He appeared to be in early middle years and had the abrupt manner common to cops everywhere. He wore a form-fitting jumpsuit that showcased a formidable musculature. Unlike most veteran cops, there was very little thickening at his waist.

"Certainly, Inspector," Ssurhuk-T'at said. "Guild Courtesan Tanner, it appears the Diplomatic Corps and the CBI were impressed with how you handled the Throzaahli Affair and they wish to use you-"

"Save the pleasantries," Jo-Burrsh growled. His brown fur was tinged with gray and lines of exhaustion cris-crossed his muzzle. "The annual Merchants' Guild dinner is happening in a week's time and we need someone to get close to the Naghra delegation. We believe they're attempting to use the Khalis IX situation to their advantage and we need someone who can get them talking. That's where you come in."

Desirée blinked. "With all due respect, Inspector, I'm not trained as a spy-"

"You're not a spy, you're a platter," he interrupted.

"Senior Chef Kalala has put together a themed dinner for the Merchants' Guild featuring several courses served on live platters using live non-sentient beings placed in stasis. He will decorate your naked body with food and place you by the Naghra delegation. From there, you will listen, record their conversation on your UTD, and observe. You will neither speak nor try to engage them in conversation. Understood?"

"With all due respect, Inspector, if I'm not allowed to speak how can I direct the conversation?"

"As we discovered during your final exam, Naghra find your vaginal fluids irresistible," Ssurhuk-T'at replied. "Kalala learned this, and will find a way to pass the information to the Naghra. What they don't know is your precum is also an intoxicant, and we hope when they sample you, it will loosen their tongues."

"I see," Desirée said. "I can think of a few problems with this, sir. What if they decide to take a bite from me?"

"Not a problem," Jo-Burrsh said. "Naghra eat their prey whole, and you're too large for them. Your job is to look decorative, be as aroused as possible but observe them closely and record their conversation."

"But-"

"Good." He stood up. "Senior Courtesan Ssurhuk-T'at informs me your schedule is clear today. You have the rest of the day to pack, and I will expect you on Zheñor VI in three days, which is the same duration as your flight. Wear civilian garb. Here's your ticket. Good day."

He flipped a datacard on Ssurhuk-T'at's desk and stalked out, the door irising closed behind him.

"Who crapped in his cornflakes?" Desirée demanded once she and Ssurhuk-T'at were alone.

"Jo-Burrsh is a very good friend of mine," he replied mildly, but Desirée winced. "Someone murdered his partner a few days ago; he knows he's close to something but he has no idea what."

"Sorry."

"It's all right." He leaned against his desk, his three eyes blinking behind his glasses. "And how are you?"

"You heard?"

He nodded.

"What's there to say?" She faked a laugh. "I'm not the first lover she's dumped and I won't be the last."

"Veronica cares for you very much," he said. "Your relationship never had a chance, but neither of you could see it. She has always been desperately lonely. For over two centuries, she has been the only person of your race living in the Confederation. She has made a very good life here, but I always got that sense that she always felt separated from the rest of us. Now you and Kalyani are in the Guild, but she realizes that she's not only separated from the rest of humanity by space but also by time. She desperately wants some sense of connection but she doesn't know with who or what. I know you're angry with her right now and that's normal, but imagine things from her perspective. Can you do that for me?"

Desirée closed her eyes, squeezing back tears. "I'll try. But it hurts."

"I know. This assignment may actually be a good thing, since it'll get you away from the Guildhouse. But be careful," he said. "Jo-Burrsh promised me he would try and keep you as safe as possible but there is still a strong element of risk. Jo-Burrsh is a good cop and a good man; do whatever he tells you without question. Understood?"

She tried to smile. "Yes, sir."

"Very good." He handed her the datacard. "I'd advise packing light, and please give me regular updates whenever you can."

"Will do. And thanks."

"You're welcome."

***

Yekahs Spaceport on Zheñor VI was a bustling mass filled with beings of all shapes and sizes. Spidery Yurthl and diminutive Henkith scuttled along the raised walkways so they wouldn't get stepped on by larger species while feathery Swantahl and buzzing Vzzzpatil used their wings to fly over the crowd. A sluglike J'orthl floated past on a countergrav sled and everybody gave a pride of hulking Leonorilla a wide space. As per Jo-Burrsh's instructions, Desirée wore a blue dress that set off her blonde hair. She wore nothing that might link her to the Guild.

Jo-Burrsh met her in a side tunnel past the main entrance. "You packed light? Good." He put out a large three-fingered hand, offering to take her carry-on bag. "Did you have a pleasant trip?"

Desirée thought for a moment, then allowed him to take her bag; accepting it as the apology it clearly was.

"Very smooth, thank you," she replied. "How long have you known Senior Courtesan Ssurhuk-T'at?"

Jo-Burrsh blinked at the sudden change in conversation. "Almost 20 years, actually. I used him as an expert witness at a trial and his testimony was extremely valuable. Since then, we've crossed paths quite a bit: I was on the Asmodii file for many years and I've come to rely on his knowledge of that species. He's never entertained me-" He added hastily.

"Really?" She couldn't resist tweaking him a little. "You don't know what you're missing. He's very good."

He gave her a dirty look. "I'm sure. I gather you know from personal experience?"

"Professor Ssurhuk-T'at's skills are renowned throughout the Guild. There are some planetary governments that couldn't afford his rates."

"Which means a lowly cop is out of luck," he said dryly. "I'm sure you have personal experience with his abilities?"

"He was one of my professors at the Academy," she said serenely.

"Uh-huh," he replied. Desirée noticed how other beings unconsciously made room for him as he strode through the corridor. Massive slabs of muscle rippled under his tight gray suit. "Guild life must be one non-stop orgy."

"Just like being a cop is all high-speed chases and gunfights?" She slipped on her sunglasses as the day's glare stabbed her eyes. If anything, the spaceport was even more chaotic as travelers tried to find ground transportation or disembarked from taxis, atmosphere buses and other vehicles.

He grinned unexpectedly, white teeth glinting under the noon sun. "Touché." Desirée wasn't sure what phrase he used but her UTD translated it into the Earth colloquialism.

He led her towards an unmarked ground vehicle parked in a No Parking zone. A hummingbird-like Frinth dressed in a purple uniform hovered in front of the car, scanned the vehicle's license plate, preparing to write a ticket. The orange-furred alien paled when his scanner identified it as an undercover police vehicle and zipped away, looking for more promising prey.

The Taurean pressed his remote control, unlocking his car doors, and popped her bag into the trunk. He then held the front passenger door open for her, allowing her to get in.

Desirée discovered the vehicle seat was smart, quickly conforming itself to cradle her body. Jo-Burrsh slid in beside her, briefly pressing the small sensor on the dashboard against his neck so the vehicle could identify him. The electric engine purred to life.

"Ssurhuk-T'at told me about your partner," she said, taking a risk. "I'm sorry."

He showed his teeth again. "The bastards made a mistake, " he replied. Desirée found his musk heavy but not unpleasant. "Nirglath and I thought we were getting nowhere in our investigation until somebody murdered him. Now it's all a matter of asking the right questions until we figure out what we know."

"You think the Naghra are involved?"

"I know the Naghra are involved," he said. "If nothing else, Nirglath's death told me that." His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his heavily muscled forearm. He moved his head very little, conscious of the thick horns that jutted just above each ear. For a split second, she imagined herself grasping those horns as she rode his naked body, her legs wrapped around his softly furred torso. She shook her head, dispelling the unexpected fantasy. "For some reason they're trying to escalate the conflict despite the fact that the Confederation has imposed several sanctions on Kahlis IX and forbidden any interference in the system.

"That's why we need to find a way to loosen their tongues enough to talk. Which is where you come in."

She placed his hand on his forearm. His fur was silky soft, a sharp contrast to the rock hard muscle underneath. "How can I help?"

He gave her a startled look, surprised by the sudden contact, before fixing his large brown eyes back on the road. "All you need to do is pretend to be a quiescent, non-sentient being and listen. It's a fairly large feast so there will be many others around, plus we have several agents acting as serving staff. Hold this and think of your UTD access code." He handed her a small blue box. A red light on the box began blinking.

"What does it do?"

"It programs your UTD to act as a transmitter on a whisker-beam signal that will run through the floor; it shouldn't be picked up by any spy-detection software. If the Naghra activate any privacy screens, your UTD will automatically configure to record only with no signal leakage. If your cover is blown, your code word will be 'brilliantfish.' Is that understood?"

She nodded. "'Brilliantfish,'" she repeated. She mentally gave the box in her lap her access code. The red light flashed green and she saw the download bar appear in her left retina.

"Good. Since you're not a field agent, we've gone to great lengths to make sure this mission will be as safe as possible, but we cannot guarantee your safety. I understand you have some self-defense training?"

Desirée nodded.

"Forget you know anything. You're a dumb animal and you'll need to maintain that cover as long as possible. Here we are."

They pulled up in front of a nondescript building in a warehouse district. Jo-Burrsh opened her door and hustled her inside, looking around him as he did so. Inside the locked door was a sea of furious activity: chefs of various sizes, shapes and species hustling to prepare countless dishes. The heat and noise hit Desirée like a wave.

Overseeing the chaos was the celebrated Senior Chef Kalala of the Food Preparers' Guild; Desirée recognized the renowned Gothuldie as a culinary expert and successful restaurateur. Walking upright, the purple rodentlike being held his six hands in front of himself much like an otter would, tasting and critiquing various dishes as he passed. Although the room looked like all hell was breaking loose, Desirée swiftly realized that he was running the giant kitchen like a master conductor, sending underlings scurrying for ingredients, ensuring all the dishes met his exacting standards and each platter was a work of art.

"Excellent," the chef said in his familiar high, squeaky voice. "Follow me please." Not waiting for an answer, he scurried through the maelstorm. Jo-Burrsh lunged after him, forcing Desirée to follow. She ducked through the whirl of activity, pulling back as a blast of flame cut her off. Once the smoke had cleared, she had to hurry to catch up with the cop and the chef as they walked through an irising door into an office.

Once Desirée had made it through to the other room, Kalala punched a code in the wall scanner, locking the door. He slumped against the wall. "Apologies, Inspector, but I had no idea you were escorting the individual personally. Do you realize what a security risk you've created?"

"Don't worry, Chef," Jo-Burrsh soothed. "We chose this location precisely because we knew we could monitor every being and vehicle that entered and exited the area. It's perfectly safe, and I didn't want to entrust our agent with anyone else. Junior Guild Courtesan Desirée Tanner, be known to Guild Master Chef Kalala. Ms. Tanner is attached to the CBI for the duration of this investigation."

"It is a great pleasure to meet you, sir." Desirée responded as the junior participant in the introduction. She bowed, attempting the Gothuldi formality. It was difficult, considering she only had one set of arms, but she thought she carried it off fairly well.

Kalala responded with an equally lavish bow, mollified by her knowledge of his race's etiquette. "The pleasure is mine, Junior Guild Courtesan. Which House are you listed with?"

"I'm with the Galos IV House, sir."

"She's one of Veronica Franco's protegées," Jo-Burrsh added. Desirée forced herself not to react. Just hearing Veronica's name brought her pain. "Ssurhuk-T'at personally recommended her for this mission."

"Ssurhuk-T'at, hmmm?"Kalala's lowest hands signaled surprise. He was much shorter than her; his head was in line with her breasts. "Impressive. Give him my greetings when you see him again." He shivered deliciously. "He has the most delightful scent."