Though Lucia pitied the girls, she couldn’t disagree with the
few laws that remained untouched after her liberty-coup; street walking was
risky business, the profits of which were only aggression, sickness and
hopelessness, and it was exactly the sort of affair that she had sought to
change. The girls left their street corners behind and flocked to businesses
like Lucia’s, and their former pimps, manipulative and despicably exploitative,
lost their power. The whores were finally able to invest their money instead of
giving it up to a man who, despite his condescending arguments to the contrary,
didn’t give a damn about his girls’ wellbeing. Naturally, they had to pay their
taxes like everyone else, and though Lucia would have preferred a nearly
tax-free life like those the Arterrans lived, she knew she couldn’t coerce the
Talprettans into giving up all of their prior collectivist tendencies.
A
lascivious moan escaped a bedroom into the kitchen, as emotive as Lucia’s
yearly groans upon filing her taxes, but with such ecstatic force that even the
sound inhibitors along the walls couldn’t suppress it. Sudika had finished up
with her client; Lucia smiled and spread some puttanesca over a plate of
steaming fettuccine to offer to her favorite working girl, who at any moment
would emerge from her room with another satisfied customer handing her a
generous stack of Caspian drachmae or Arterran Talents.
The
silver double doors retracted into the walls as Sudika led her client to the
lobby. “Here’s your tip, Sudika,” the customer said, producing another few
bills from his wallet. He was a middle-aged man like many others, tall, with a
figure that was once muscular in his younger days, but still retained a
hardness that made him appear more maturely masculine. Sudika blushed and gave
him a kiss goodbye on his cheek, brushing her lips against salt-and-pepper
stubble. He stepped out the door and grinned when Sudika called out, “See you
next Thursday!” The girl always managed to turn a one-time client into a
frequent flier, especially if he was a man with a difficult life who only
needed her touch for an hour or two to feel a much-needed repose from his
stresses.
Lucia
passed the plate into her buxom worker’s eager hands, and let down her honey
blonde hair, which she’d kept pulled back while she crushed her tomatoes and
got her hands sticky with garlic. As Sudika raised her fork and spun her pasta,
Lucia pulled out a thin stack of glossy black bills, made of a curious blend of
plastic and paper, and shuffled through them. She checked the green and
cerulean print and presented the money to her carnal protégée. “Ten Talents,”
she told her without a hint of condition in her voice.
“Ten
Talents? What for?” Sudika asked in disbelief. Even a single Talent was worth
at least two and a half times the value of a Talprettan drachma. And besides,
they generally used drachmae in the Bordello della Libertà , as most of
their clients were Caspian.
“The
fee you’ll pay for your immigration application,” Lucia explained. “The Dragon
House has offered you the job. They’ve transmitted the offer letter to the
Colonial embassy right here in Talpretta.”
Sudika
cried, “I got in? Hudson! On Acadica! I’ll be moving to the center of Acadia
itself!”
Lucia
laughed and gave her a celebratory hug. “Just as I told you: they say you’re
one of the best whores they’ve ever seen. Your passion and care for your
clients is sublime.” Neither of them had to put into words the recognition of Lucia’s
role in Sudika’s good fortunes, as it was her guidance as a successful madam
that gave Sudika the solid foundations for whoredom and fame.
“Maybe
one day I’ll be as great of a courtesan as you, Lucia!”
Lucia
humbled herself, but Sudika wouldn’t allow it. “You led the inter-religious
delegation representing the entire League of Arterra to the Tellurian
Imperium,” she reminded Lucia. “I know
few laws that remained untouched after her liberty-coup; street walking was
risky business, the profits of which were only aggression, sickness and
hopelessness, and it was exactly the sort of affair that she had sought to
change. The girls left their street corners behind and flocked to businesses
like Lucia’s, and their former pimps, manipulative and despicably exploitative,
lost their power. The whores were finally able to invest their money instead of
giving it up to a man who, despite his condescending arguments to the contrary,
didn’t give a damn about his girls’ wellbeing. Naturally, they had to pay their
taxes like everyone else, and though Lucia would have preferred a nearly
tax-free life like those the Arterrans lived, she knew she couldn’t coerce the
Talprettans into giving up all of their prior collectivist tendencies.
A
lascivious moan escaped a bedroom into the kitchen, as emotive as Lucia’s
yearly groans upon filing her taxes, but with such ecstatic force that even the
sound inhibitors along the walls couldn’t suppress it. Sudika had finished up
with her client; Lucia smiled and spread some puttanesca over a plate of
steaming fettuccine to offer to her favorite working girl, who at any moment
would emerge from her room with another satisfied customer handing her a
generous stack of Caspian drachmae or Arterran Talents.
The
silver double doors retracted into the walls as Sudika led her client to the
lobby. “Here’s your tip, Sudika,” the customer said, producing another few
bills from his wallet. He was a middle-aged man like many others, tall, with a
figure that was once muscular in his younger days, but still retained a
hardness that made him appear more maturely masculine. Sudika blushed and gave
him a kiss goodbye on his cheek, brushing her lips against salt-and-pepper
stubble. He stepped out the door and grinned when Sudika called out, “See you
next Thursday!” The girl always managed to turn a one-time client into a
frequent flier, especially if he was a man with a difficult life who only
needed her touch for an hour or two to feel a much-needed repose from his
stresses.
Lucia
passed the plate into her buxom worker’s eager hands, and let down her honey
blonde hair, which she’d kept pulled back while she crushed her tomatoes and
got her hands sticky with garlic. As Sudika raised her fork and spun her pasta,
Lucia pulled out a thin stack of glossy black bills, made of a curious blend of
plastic and paper, and shuffled through them. She checked the green and
cerulean print and presented the money to her carnal protégée. “Ten Talents,”
she told her without a hint of condition in her voice.
“Ten
Talents? What for?” Sudika asked in disbelief. Even a single Talent was worth
at least two and a half times the value of a Talprettan drachma. And besides,
they generally used drachmae in the Bordello della Libertà , as most of
their clients were Caspian.
“The
fee you’ll pay for your immigration application,” Lucia explained. “The Dragon
House has offered you the job. They’ve transmitted the offer letter to the
Colonial embassy right here in Talpretta.”
Sudika
cried, “I got in? Hudson! On Acadica! I’ll be moving to the center of Acadia
itself!”
Lucia
laughed and gave her a celebratory hug. “Just as I told you: they say you’re
one of the best whores they’ve ever seen. Your passion and care for your
clients is sublime.” Neither of them had to put into words the recognition of Lucia’s
role in Sudika’s good fortunes, as it was her guidance as a successful madam
that gave Sudika the solid foundations for whoredom and fame.
“Maybe
one day I’ll be as great of a courtesan as you, Lucia!”
Lucia
humbled herself, but Sudika wouldn’t allow it. “You led the inter-religious
delegation representing the entire League of Arterra to the Tellurian
Imperium,” she reminded Lucia. “I know
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