The Virtual Season - Episode Four
Beneath it all - Part I
By
Blue Raven
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Work stopped the moment that Lana walked into the club. She had that effect on people; her presence was unnerving at the best of times. Strangely, this unassuming new body that she had appropriated seemed only to increase that effect. Tiny by human standards, less than five feet and 90 pounds, she managed to exude an air of menace that much stronger because it seemed so out of place coming from such a slight, seemingly delicate creature. Her manner clearly said that she was dangerous and knew it. As she scrutinized the progress of the renovations that she had ordered, a man easily three times her weight approached her. To say that he towered head and shoulders above her would have been to understate the matter, but her bearing made it clear that she knew who was in control and that it was not him. "Problem, Rylan?" she asked casually, not bothering to look at him as she continued to examine the club. He was a fugitive, a convict, not worthy of her consideration except as a means to her ends. When he did not immediately respond, she looked up at him, gray eyes flashing in the dim light. "I spoke to you. Do me the courtesy of replying or stop wasting my time." She moved past him and farther into the room, towards the stages. He followed, obviously angry. "Human females taking their clothes off. Why?" "We need a front," she told him with the air of someone pointing out to a child that the sky was blue. "And this… club was up for sale and in the right area, which makes it ideal." A second man joined them. "Lana, the soundproofing of the lower level will be complete in less than a week." She nodded sharply. "Ahead of schedule, Dray? Splendid." "We still need more dancers," he informed her. "This is pointless," Rylan snarled, shaking his head. "Why not just buy the club and do nothing with it? Why not just take the Watchfire by force?" Lana scowled and shook her head. "You honestly think that Cirronian fanatic or his mongrel girlfriend would let us reach the vault again?" She took several steps towards him, managing to be 'in his face' in spite of the disparity in height. "Besides, last time I checked, Zin did not hire you to think." She kept her voice low, and it was that much more threatening for her refusal to raise it. "Now get back to work." "Convicts," the other man muttered, shaking his head. "Not even smart enough to avoid getting caught and they view themselves as our equals. I don't see what Zin wanted with them anyway. He has us. What's he need with them?" Lana glanced up at him, shaking her head. The Enixian was not much smarter than most of the convicts and, like them, he lacked the kind of tact that had kept men and women like Lana not only from getting caught, but from ever having been named as suspects in the first place. Dray had only avoided Sar-Top by dumb luck, and Lana held very little respect for him as a result. Besides which, he had an awful habit of presuming too much and thinking too highly of himself. Shaking her head, she quietly educated him. "Zin controls people like us with money." Or, in her case, actual loyalty, but she doubted the Enixian would be able to understand that concept. "Mercenaries look at every action as a matter of cost and profit. If the cost outweighs the potential profit, a mercenary is likely to balk at a task. The Sar-Top fugitives are easier to control. Fear alone is frequently sufficient." She smiled faintly. "And they're more readily expendable." She resumed her interrupted trip to the stage, adding over her shoulder, "Not to mention that they keep the Tracker distracted." Dray shook his head, following. "As I said, we need more dancers." "Humans?" He nodded. "There aren't enough of us in the right body-type, but everyone else who works here will be in Zin's employ. It's safer." She nodded. "I'll inform Haag and get you the funding." He hesitated. "Who exactly is this club going to be catering to?" "Doesn't matter as long as the soundproofing is effective." "The last thing we need is another fiasco like we had with Club 805," he pointed out. "That was sheer stupidity on Kaden's part. I am not a stupid person, and I have no desire to draw attention to us." She gave a little shake of the head. "We'll draw more attention if we exclude humans." Her pager went off and she glanced down at it. Haag wanted to speak to her. "You may return to work now." She turned to leave and Dray caught her arm, obviously not convinced that the conversation was over. Furious at his presumption, she sent him flying across the room with a flick of her fingers. It was the only expression of the Vardian's mental effort, one not much greater than the effort she would have expended to swat a pesky fly. The mirrored wall that had just been put up behind the bar shattered under the force of his impact. Lana crossed the room and jerked the stunned Enixian to his feet. "Remember your place, Dray," she counseled gently, absently dusting him off. "And see about getting the mirror fixed, hmm?" Shaking her head, she crossed the floor and walked into her office, locking the door behind her. She was aware that her actions had caused a bit of a stir among the other workers in the club, but was not unduly concerned. It never hurt to remind people who was in charge. Sitting at her desk, she picked up the phone and dialed. "Sir, you wished to speak to me?" she asked when the phone was answered. "Yes, Lana. How are things progressing there?" "We need more human females to dance, and a new mirror for the back wall," Lana informed him, putting her feet up on the desk. Before he had time to start protesting the bad news, she continued, "And we will be ready to start tunneling in a week." She smiled faintly. "After that, it should be less than a week before we reach the vault. And Zin…" End of Teaser Act 1 "You see this, Mel?" Jonas Carr asked with a sigh, holding up the newspaper he had been reading. "See what?" she asked, putting down the glass she had been washing and walking over to Jonas.
Mel sighed and shook her head. Adult entertainment. There went the neighborhood and, no doubt, a healthy chunk of her business if a strip-club actually opened up nearby. "Great," she muttered. "Oh, it gets better," Jonas sighed, handing her the article and pointing to a paragraph hear the end. Mel read the address where a strip-club was scheduled to open in less than a week, shaking her head in dismay. "That's like eight blocks from here!" she protested, flinging the paper aside in disgust. She sighed and shook her head. If those kinds of establishments got any closer, they could seriously cut into her business. And once they had started appearing, they would spread. Jonas sighed and watched as she poured herself a drink. Mel had been complaining about the ordinance since it had been proposed, and he suspected that it had more to do with finance than morality. Just when the bar had begun to turn a profit again, too. Poor Mel. "Mel, is everything okay?" Cole asked, emerging into the bar from the basement. "I thought I heard shouting." "Um, no, Cole… Nothing." She shook her head absently, not wanting to worry him over nothing. Cole frowned uncertainly. "You're upset, Mel. What happened?" he asked moving behind the bar and approaching her. Mel opened her mouth to explain when the front door burst open and Nestov came scuttling in. "We need to talk, Cole," Nestov panted. "Not now." Cole shook his head, more worried about Mel than Nestov. "This is important, man!" Nestov told him firmly. As Cole looked from Nestov to Mel, she sighed and shook her head. "It's okay, Cole. Go… see what he wants. We'll talk later." "Yes, Mel." Cole nodded and reluctantly left her side, ushering Nestov up the stairs and into the apartment. "This had better be important," Cole told him sternly once they were in the living room. "Read the paper today?" Cole scowled, not seeing what that had to do with anything. "Not yet. Why?" "You hear about this new Gentleman's Club that's opening up?" Cole shook his head and made a mental note to ask Mel what a 'Gentleman's Club' was. "It's less than ten blocks from here and it's being run by Zin's people," Nestov told him quickly. "I'm out of here. If they see me with you…" He turned to leave. "Who is running this Gentleman's Club?" Cole asked, catching him by the shoulder and detaining him. Nestov shook his head. "I recognized Rylan, but there's this Vardian chick who seems to be in charge. I don't know her, though. I don't think she's a fugitive. Can I please go now?" Cole nodded absently, releasing his hold on Nestov, who hurried off unnoticed. Rylan was a Vardian, an organized-crime figure, but Cole suspected that Nestov was right that someone else was in charge. Rylan was a follower, not a leader. Who was in charge was not really the most important consideration anyway. This club was quite close to the Watchfire and that was no coincidence, could not be. He closed his eyes against the surge of worry that always threatened when he considered the possibility that Mel might be in some danger. Shaking his head, he started down the stairs, determined to neutralize this threat to her safety as soon as possible. She was just saying good-bye to Jonas as Cole emerged into the bar again. Cole smiled and added his own farewell. He liked the lawyer, not to mention the fact that he'd gotten murder charges against him dismissed. Jonas was a fine man. He would have made a good Cirronian. "Mel, what is a 'Gentleman's Club'?" Cole asked once they were alone in the bar. Mel looked up, startled. "Strip-club, Cole. Why?" "Strip-club?" he repeated, shaking his head to indicate his lack of understanding. Mel shrugged, then a phrase she had once heard Cole use popped into her mind. "Adult entertainment for men," she explained, faintly amused by the need. "Men go to these clubs to watch women take off their clothes." Cole frowned thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. Just when he thought he was starting to understand the species. What could possibly be erotic about the body of a complete stranger. Now Mel's body… He stopped that line of thought before it could start. "Why?" Mel shrugged, a little uncomfortable. "Don't know, Cole. You'd have to ask one. A man, I mean." Cole nodded slowly. "I'll ask Jonas next time I see him." "No you will not!" Mel informed him firmly, shaking her head. Cole frowned in confusion, but deferred to her wishes with a nod. "Are these clubs exclusive? Can anyone get into one?" Mel felt herself color, half from embarrassment, half from irrational jealousy. "Um… why do you… want to?" she managed. "Nestov says that a Gentleman's Club is opening near here. It is run by Zin's people." Mel frowned, startled and worried. "The one that's opening a couple of blocks from here?" Cole nodded. "How would I get in?" "Um…" Mel paused uncertainly. She really had no clue. "Isabel!" she called as the early-shift bartender walked in, just back from class judging from her backpack. "Cole's got a question for you." The girl looked up, smiling and nodding. "Sure thing, Miss Porter." She smiled at Cole, dropping her book-bag behind the bar. "What's up?" "How does one get into a Gentleman's Club?" Isabel's smile faded abruptly. Her time as a stripper, while not something she was ashamed of, was not exactly something she was eager to relive either. "Depends on the club. I mean, if it's an actual Gentleman's Club, as opposed to just some strip-joint, you're not going to get in without an invitation and that's that." Cole frowned. "Is there no way around this restriction?" Isabel shrugged. "Why do you ask?" "He's working on a… screen-play," Mel supplied quickly, before Cole could speak. "Ah." Isabel nodded. "Well, if you tell the proprietor that, he might give you a temporary membership for research purposes." She shrugged. "Or not. A lot of the higher-end places are really private, don't want their client-list to be common knowledge if you follow. Pretty much the only way to get in is to be a member or an employee." With that, she vanished into the bathroom. Mel sighed and shrugged. "So much for that." "Maybe I can get a job there?" Cole suggested. Mel shrugged. It was not impossible, if he changed his form, that he could infiltrate the Club unnoticed. "Yeah, maybe as a bartender or a bouncer." "Bouncer?" Cole repeated. "Uh, a guy who keeps the customers from harassing the dancers," Mel explained quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear. "You'd have to… change your look." Cole nodded. "Of course, Mel. I'll need a picture." Mel, who had started keeping old photographs on hand just in case, nodded. "Living-room. Second drawer on the end-table." Cole smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mel." "Cole, make it kind of a big guy. Those kinds of places prefer bigger guys." Cole nodded again. "Yes, Mel. Thank you, Mel." *** "Well, Mister Miller, I'd like to give you something," Lana said with a shrug, "But, with the exception of dancers, we have hired everyone we really need. I'm sorry." Cole nodded slowly, disappointed. "I understand, Miss Li. Thank you for your time." He started to rise, then paused. "But you are still looking for dancers?" "Yeah. You know any?" Cole nodded slowly, smiling. "I might, yes." "If you do, send them my way please." Lana smiled. "Quickly, though. I'd like to be fully staffed in the next day or two." Cole nodded again. "If I can find anyone who I think you might be interested in, I'll be sure to send her your way." He smiled at her. Lana's pager went off. "Can you find your own way out?" she asked after reading the number. Cole nodded. "Of course, Miss Li." "Please, call me Veronica." She smiled and showed him as far as her office door. Cole stood outside of her office for a few minutes, deep in thought. Nestov was too well known by the fugitives to effectively go undercover in a club that would be frequented by them. It would have been too dangerous to consider sending Mel, even if they had not known what she looked like. So what did that leave? "You get lost?" a cheerful voice asked. Cole looked up, startled. A woman who could not have been more than 21 or 22 stood regarding him with a quizzical smile. Dressed in blue jeans and a work-shirt, she did not look like the other females that Cole had seen practicing on the stage on his way in, and it took him a few moments to realize that she had been on the stage. She simply looked a lot different fully dressed and with her hair down. The lack of make-up was a definite improvement as well. He smiled at her. "Hello." She grinned back, instantly liking him, if only because he was not leering at her now and had not spared her a second glance as he had walked past the stage. "Get lost?" she repeated. Cole shook his head. "No. I was just thinking." "You get the job?" she asked. He shook his head. "They already have as many bartenders as they need." "Too bad." She frowned. "Blue Diamond is looking for bartenders," she offered. "Of course, it's on the other side of town." She shrugged. Cole smiled at her. She seemed like a very sweet child. "Thank you for the advice." "No problem. What were you thinking about?" she asked. "Oh, Miss Li said that if I knew any women who might like to work here that I should let her know." She nodded. "Yeah, we're still short-handed, I hear. It's a nice club, too. Way more upscale than the last one I worked at. You know any girls?" "Maybe." Cole shrugged noncommittally. "None that have danced before?" she guessed, smiling faintly. Cole nodded. "Something like that." She nodded knowingly. "It can be intimidating, but the money's not bad. Look, if you send her over her, tell her to ask for Toni. That's me. I'll take good care of her, show her the ropes." Cole smiled. "Thank you, Toni." She grinned. "So, what's your name?" "Miller. Jim Miller." "Nice to meet you, Jim. Antoinette Hansen." She shook his hand, smiling. "It's nice to meet you, Antoinette." "Please, Toni. I can't abide the name Antoinette." She grinned and shook her head. Her smile faded as she noticed a large man regarding them grimly. "Why don't you let me walk you to the door before Ryan decides to bounce you." "Bounce me? He is… a bouncer?" "Or something." She shrugged. "All I know is that he gives me the screaming heebie-jeebies and I would not want to be alone in a dark alley with him." She grinned and took him by the arm, steering him towards the door. "Look, you send your girlfriend on over. I'll make sure she's taken care of." "She's not my girlfriend." Toni nodded. Gay as she had suspected. She liked that in a man. "Well, your friend, then. Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on her." Cole smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Toni. I appreciate it." She grinned back. "Not a problem, Jim. Bye." "Good bye." Cole smiled at her and turned to leave. *** Mel found him upstairs, once more going through the old pictures. "Didn't get the job?" she guessed, noting that he had reverted to his 'normal' body. Cole shook his head. "But there are other positions opened. I'm going to apply for one." Mel grinned and nodded, sitting down next to him. "Great. What jobs?" "Dancers, Mel. They still need dancers." Mel stared, wise-eyed and startled. "Cole, no." She shook her head. "You can't!" "Why not?" he asked curiously. "Well, you're a guy, for one!" she pointed out, incredulous. "So? I can change my outward form into a female one. It's no different then changing from one male form to another." "You... you want to get a job there as a stripper? As a female stripper?" Mel suddenly found herself very badly in need of a drink. Cole smiled absently, nodding as he leafed through the pictures. "Yes, Mel. But there is a problem." "Only one?" she asked shakily. Cole nodded, too absorbed in his examination of the pictures to notice her distress. "All of the women in these pictures are fully clothed, Mel. I am going to have to take my clothes off." He paused, oddly embarrassed to be discussing this with Mel. "I've only seen one image of the female form, Mel, in that magazine, and I don't know if that is representative." "Well... okay... we'll... get you some… some more magazines," Mel offered before recalling that she considered this a very bad idea. "Cole, no!" she said quickly, shaking her head. "There's... there's more to being a stripper than just looking the part. You've got to be able to act like a convincing female." Cole considered this, frowning thoughtfully. After a few moments, he brightened. "You can show me!" "You want me to show you how to act like a woman? In a week?" Mel shook her head, incredulous. For some reason, lyrics from the Rocky Horror Picture Show were suddenly dancing around her brain, along with a truly disturbing mental image of Cole in fishnet stockings. "Oh, less than that now, Mel," Cole told her. Mel rose and began pacing. "Cole, even if I could teach you how to behave like a woman, I don't know the first thing about being a stripper. Who's going to show you that?" "Toni." "Who?" "She was just hired at the club. She said that she would show me." Mel stared at him with wide, uncertain eyes. "Show you?" "Well, I think she thinks I'm my girlfriend," Cole explained. "I need a drink," Mel announced, shaking her head and walking down the stairs. Things were starting to feel distinctly surreal. "When can we get the magazines?" Cole asked, following. "When can we start?" Mel stopped in the stairwell, turning to face him. "Cole, this is such a bad idea in so many ways…" He smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Mel. I've walked into far more dangerous situations than this one." He shrugged. "Besides, I've stripped before. I was very popular," he reminded her. "Will you help me, Mel?" "I... I honestly don't know, Cole." He nodded slowly, disappointed. "Yes, Mel. Maybe Nestov can help." Mel sighed deeply. "Let's… keep Nestov out of this, okay, Cole? We'll, um... we'll figure this one out together." Cole smiled. "Thank you, Mel." He lightly touched her throat. "When can we start?" "Um, tonight, I guess. It shouldn't be too busy, so I'll just leave it to Janet and Gail and we can… work on this." Cole smiled and nodded. "Yes, Mel." End Act 1 Act 2 Mel sighed deeply as Cole leafed through the magazines, scanning
the pictures with a level of interest that Mel would have considered
unhealthy if she had not known that it had nothing to do with
how interested he was in the women themselves. Buying them had
been an interesting experience, earning her some curious looks
from the clerk at the store. "Um, you probably shouldn't use one of their faces," she began slowly, not looking in the direction of the scattered magazines. "You don't want to run the risk of someone recognizing you... uh, her…" Cole nodded, wondering why she seemed so out of sorts. "Yes, Mel. I've already picked the face I want." He rose and crossed the room, picking up an old National Geographic. "I've always liked her eyes," he told Mel, showing her the young woman on the cover, heavily wrapped in Indian or possibly Pakistani garb. Her icy, blue-gray eyes were striking. "Cole, you can't use that picture." "Why not?" "It won a Pulitzer. It's famous. Too many people might recognize it." "Oh." Cole frowned and put the magazine back, returning to the magazines on the coffee table. "Will you pick a face for me?" "Uh..." Mel sighed and nodded, picking up a stack of old family photos. She immediately put aside a picture of her mother. As beautiful as she had always considered her mother, that would have been just weird. No members of her immediate family, definitely not. She leafed through them, smiling as she came to a picture of her grandmother as a young woman, surrounded by a small group of friends. The twenties had been wild years for Adelaide Porter, and her friends had included gangsters and flappers as well as cops. Smiling, Mel slid the picture across the table to Cole, pointing to a pretty young woman in a short dress, standing next to her grandmother. The woman, Rosie, if Mel recalled right from her grandmother's diary, was beautiful by the standards of any decade. She was a slender, delicate creature with bright eyes, rosy cheeks, and a ready smile. There was something almost otherworldly about her appearance, more like an elf than a human. Mel fleetingly wondered if the beautiful woman had been other than human, but it hardly mattered now. The point was that she had not survived the twenties, had no living friends or relatives, and no one had ever heard of her. "She's very pretty, Mel." Cole smiled at the picture. "Is that your grandmother with her?" "Yeah, they were friends." She nodded. "Her name was Rose Thompson." Mel smiled. In her diary, Adelaide had referred to Rosie Thompson as a rose with thorns. The girl had not been nearly as sweet and innocent as she had looked. Like Cole, and Mel herself, there had been a lot going on under the surface. Cole smiled and nodded. "She's perfect, Mel. I knew you'd pick the perfect face." His smile faded slightly. "But, Mel her body is not like the bodies of the women in these magazines." Mel closed her eyes, thinking. Cole was right, of course. Rosie had been devoid of curves, as was popular at the time. While Mel was not positive, she was fairly certain that strippers were usually pretty well endowed. Or, at least, they were in the movies. "Can you, like… um, cut and paste?" Mel suggested, shrugging. "I mean… pick and chose?" "Rose's face on another woman's body?" Cole asked. Mel nodded. "Yeah. Can you… do that?" Cole considered for a moment, then nodded. "It won't be exactly easy, but there's no reason why I shouldn't be able to… alter individual features." Mel nodded again, smiling uncomfortably. "Okay, then. That's… good." "Is something wrong, Mel? You seem upset." Mel smiled nervously and shook her head. "No, Cole," she assured him. "This is just... uh, not how I planned on spending my evening." She shook her head. "I'm okay. Just let me get another drink." She walked into the kitchen and poured herself another scotch. The whole process had been a lot easier to handle once she had brought the bottle up from the bar. "Which body do you think I should use, Mel?" Cole asked curiously. Mel choked on the sip of scotch she had just taken and Cole was on his feet in an instant, moving to her side and gently patting her back as he had learned to do when someone was choking. Eyes watering, Mel finally managed to swallow the mouthfull. Shaking her head, she allowed Cole to steer her back to the couch. "Are you okay, Mel?" he asked, worried. "Fine, Cole. Just fine." She inhaled deeply as she sat back. He wanted to know which body to use. Good question. Taking another pull at her drink, she stared at the dozen magazines, shaking her head. Decisions, decisions. The real problem, she quickly realized, was finding a picture that showed everything that Cole needed to see. "Well, that's good, but you can't see," she picked up another magazine, "that And in this one you can't see that or this and..." Cole listened to Mel's disjointed speech, amused and realizing that forming this new body was going to be an awful lot like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. He just hoped that he got all the pieces in the right place. Human females were remarkably different in physical makeup than human males, almost like a different species. He faintly recalled having once read a story in which a group of aliens made that assumption about humans, that they were, in fact, two different species. It had been amusing. Right now, though, those differences were more a source of annoyance than amusement. Creating a composite form was, as he had told Mel, possible but difficult, especially without an immediate and tangible frame of reference. He wondered if Mel would be willing to help with that. *** Lana looked around the club's sub-level, impressed. The soundproofing was indeed coming along nicely, she realized. Trust an Enixian to be good at a task like that. The noise level in here was almost unbearable to the Vardian, and Dray, in spite of his protective earplugs, looked like he was in agony. Of course, that could as easily have been the result of his broken arm or bruised ribs, but she doubted it. The drilling had not yet begun, so most of the noise was being produced by the sound-proofing itself at this stage, but the fact that it was entirely inaudible from the level above told her that the noise from the digging would not be a problem once it began. Especially once the club was filled with people and music. She gestured to Dray, dismissing him before his eardrums exploded. The Enixian fled without a backwards glance. She looked around the sub-level, pleased. It was quite large, was, in fact, several times larger than the club above. They had also taken possession of a handful of nearby warehouses, and tunnels led to those, allowing for discrete disposal of the massive quantities of earth that were to be shifted during the digging. Haag would be most impressed. She looked around for the chief engineer, eager for his report. A scientist herself, she was not entirely unfamiliar with the process involved in delving deep underground, but geology was not her specialty, either. She was more adept with temporal physics, so she would need the engineer to explain the process to her. Many of Zin's people would have been indifferent to the process involved in tunneling down and over to the vault, but Lana felt more comfortable being intimately involved. Leaving such an important task completely in the hands of others was simply unacceptable. Quite beyond the fact that she did not really trust her work force to do its job without fouling up, she simply could not stand idly by while Zin remained trapped. The thought of such a brilliant mind languishing away in an underground bunker was almost painful to the young woman who had known Zin first as an Instructor at school and later as an employer and friend. She knew that there were both fugitives and mercenaries who would just as soon have allowed Zin to remain in the vault, but Lana was not so ungrateful. She also refused to take her orders from an Orsusian for any longer than absolutely necessary. Primitives. In her mind, Haag, like the fugitives, was just another tool, a way for Zin to achieve his goals. She would happily take her orders from him for as long as those orders pertained to Zin's release, but if that goal had changed, if Haag had become less dedicated to releasing Zin, Lana would have killed him herself, quite happily. For the time being, though, her plans and Haag's were the same. The engineer, another Vardian, walked over to her when he saw her. "Can we go upstairs?" he shouted over the noise. Lana nodded and the two quickly retired upstairs. "So noisy," Lana remarked quietly once they had made it to the relative silence of the upper level. "How many Enixians do you have working down there, Tarn?" He pulled off his hard-hat as he spoke. "Not many. They can't take it for long." She nodded, not surprised. "Dray says the sound-proofing will be completed in a week or less?" Tarn nodded. "Yes. That portion of the project was left in the hands of our Enixian engineers. Some of the best sound-proofing techs in the Migar Alliance come from Enix." She nodded again. "Your office is downstairs, yes?" "Yes, ma'am." "Have them sound-proof that as well. You'll be spending a lot of time down there." He nodded, pleased. "Yes, ma'am." She paused for a moment, looking around the club again. "Dray, I thought I told you to get that mirror fixed!" she said softly in spite of the fact that the Enixian was nowhere in sight. Dray immediately emerged from the dressing rooms. "I ordered a new one, but it won't be here for another day or two," he told her, his expression sullen. "It had better be here in a day or two," she informed him softly. "We can't open with a shattered mirror behind the bar." He nodded shortly. "I'll see to it," he sighed. "You'd better. Humans have a superstition about broken mirrors. You wouldn't want seven years of bad luck, would you?" Dray frowned uncertainly, pausing before answering. "No, ma'am." "Good. Because if that mirror isn't in place by this time day after tomorrow, I will personally see to it that the next seven years are a living hell for you." "Yes, ma'am." He nodded quickly. "How much longer before your arm comes out of that sling?" "A few weeks, ma'am, and I'll have to wear a cast for a month or more. This body heals very slowly." She nodded, frowning. Human bodies really were very frail things. She would be glad to get out of hers once and for all. "Is this going to interfere with any of your duties?" she asked, nodding towards his arm. "Not that I can foresee, ma'am." Lana nodded sharply. "See that it doesn't. If you don't think that you'll be able to do something, get someone else to. I can't abide sloppiness and I certainly won't tolerate it on a project this important." He nodded. "I understand, ma'am." "You may go now." He nodded again, happy to have escaped without any more broken bones. "Thank you, ma'am." He left quickly. Lana glanced back at Tarn. "How far down will we need to dig?" "A click and a half, minimum. I'd feel more comfortable with two, though." She considered the amount of time that this would likely add to the rescue operation. While Zin was not in any real danger in the vault, she did not want him in it for any longer than was absolutely necessary. Still, if the operation was to be completed successfully… "We don't want the tunnels collapsing. Dig as deeply as you see fit, just remember that Zin has already been trapped for some time. The longer it takes us to rescue him, the angrier he gets. Have you ever seen Zin angry?" "No, ma'am, and I've no desire to." "Smart man." She nodded. "So, once we're down, we dig a second tunnel? Horizontally?" "Not truly horizontal, no ma'am. The vault is too deep for that. There will be a substantial incline to the second shaft." "How substantial?" "Substantial enough to make up the difference between the depth of the first tunnel and the depth of the vault," the Vardian engineer replied cautiously with a noncommittal shrug. "Again, dependent on the depth of the first shaft." She nodded. "As deep as you need to. This operation goes off without a hitch and we all get to keep our heads. Am I understood?" Tarn nodded, already planning ways to shift the blame if the rescue attempt failed. "You are, ma'am." "Good. Have your plans in my office before you go home tonight. Do you have the utility schematics?" He nodded. "There are some power and water lines that may well prove problematic. I already have my people at work on ways to reroute them without drawing notice." She smiled and nodded, pausing the conversation until one of the dancers walked past. "Wonderful. Your assessment?" "Two weeks is not an unreasonable time-line." He paused, reluctant to continue. Lana frowned, knowing that look when she saw it. A messenger afraid of getting shot for the news he carried. "Unless?" she prompted gently. "Unless Daggon finds out." Lana sighed and shook her head, annoyed by the mere mention of the Cirronian. "Of course. The best laid plans don't stand a chance in the face of his interference." She looked at the bar, where one of her people was pouring the dancer a drink. "Pour one for me when you're done," she ordered. The Nodulian bartender nodded and handed the human her drink before picking up another glass. "You want one?" Lana asked Tarn. He shook his head. "Thank you, but no. Not while I'm working." She nodded. "Get the utility schematics on my desk with your plans. If you're not otherwise needed tonight, you can go when you've done that." He nodded. "Thank you, ma'am. I'll have them on your desk in 30 minutes." She nodded her approval and walked to the bar, picking up her waiting drink and sitting down next to the dancer. "Toni, isn't it?" she asked, smiling and thoughtfully sipping at her martini, wondering what, if anything, the girl had overheard. "Antoinette?" Toni nodded, surprised. "Yes, Miss Li." "Veronica," Lana reminded her with a smile. "Sorry, Veronica." Toni smiled apologetically, sipping her bourbon. No ice, no soda, just like she liked it. "So, how are you finding our little club?" Lana asked Toni with a smile. Keeping the dancers complacent was very important to seeing that her plans were not interfered with. They were the unknown variable in all of this. "It seems very nice, Veronica. Upscale, for sure. If the clientele is half as classy as the décor, I think I'm going to like it here." "Well, the clientele may not prove as… exclusive as some of my business-partners may have wanted, but I assure you that you ladies will be treated quite well. The bouncers will see to it." She smiled again. Keep the girls grateful for their great working conditions and lack of harassment and they would be less inclined to ask questions. Toni smiled and nodded. "It'll be good to work in an honest-to-God Gentleman's Club instead of a strip-club. Some of the crap that guys tried on me when I worked at the Blue Diamond…" Lana nodded. "Well, we're most eager to avoid such unpleasantness here, I can assure you. Ryan and the others will keep you ladies from harm and walk you to your cars after we close. No point taking any chances." Toni smiled and nodded again. "Well, we appreciate that, Veronica, all the girls. There are places that just don't give a damn about their girls." Lana nodded, rising. "Well, I should get back to work." She paused. "Ryan tells me he saw you talking to a strange gentleman this afternoon?" Toni nodded. "Yeah, he had just interviewed for a bar-tending job, I guess. Seemed nice, said he might know a girl who'd like to dance here. I told him to send her on by and I'd take good care of her for him." "Wonderful." She nodded again. "I'll talk to you later, Toni." Toni smiled and nodded. "Okay, Miss Li." *** "Absolutely not, Cole," Mel repeated, shaking her head firmly. "I am not taking my clothes off." Cole nodded meekly. The vehement nature of her refusal to provide him with a frame of reference had been startling. He did not think that she had ever been that angry with him before. "It was only a suggestion." He frowned apologetically and gently caressed her throat. "I didn't mean to offend you." Mel sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Cole. I'm just… this whole plan has me kind of on-edge." He nodded his understanding. "Don't worry, Mel. Everything is going to be fine." "God, I hope so," she muttered, handing him a handful of magazines along with the picture of Rose Thompson. They had not been able to find a single picture that conveyed everything that Cole would need, so they had picked and chosen from a half-dozen different pictures. Cole had assured her that, though it might take time, it was doable. Mel remained worried, knowing that transformations could have unforeseen consequences. He had once spent a week talking with an Italian accent, and the transformations did not always hold. If he reverted to his normal form on stage… "Don't worry, Mel," Cole said gently, taking the magazines and smiling reassuringly. It was not hard to tell exactly what she was thinking. "I'm getting much better at this." "Okay." Mel nodded reluctantly. "I'll go get some clothes for you to change into and you... you go... do your thing." Cole smiled and nodded, giving her a last, reassuring look and walking into the bathroom. Shaking her head, Mel walked down the hall and into her bedroom to find something for 'Rose' to wear. They were going to have to go shopping for clothes tonight, but he would need something to wear in the meantime. Sighing, she selected a dress that had always been a little loose on top. On 'Rose', it was going to be very tight in the chest. Shaking her head, she grabbed a sweater for him to wear over it, and brought the outfit back to the bathroom. "You… done?" she called through the door, not wanting to enter while he was halfway through the transformation. This whole process was disturbing enough as it was. The voice that answered was higher than Cole's but would take more work to be truly convincing. "Yes, Mel, but..." "But?" she repeated, a wave of panic washing over her. "Everything's where it should be, I think, but… could you come take a look? I'm… not sure…" Mel inhaled deeply and nodded, squaring her shoulders and pushing open the bathroom door. Dress and sweater slipped from her hands as she got her first good look at 'Rose'. "Oh… my God," she whispered, staring with wide eyes. End Act 2 Act 3 Cole frowned, a little taken aback by that response. "Did I do it wrong?" he asked, staring at her and shifting uncomfortably. He had known that his clothes would not fit properly after the transformation, so he had taken them off first. The bathroom was cold, and standing there naked was just uncomfortable. "These proportions feel wrong, Mel. Should I make these smaller?" he asked, gesturing towards his chest. Mel blinked, amazed. Cole had been a good-looking guy, but he was a great-looking woman. A little top-heavy, perhaps, but the guys would eat that up. His face was perfect, even prettier than Rose's had been. His body would have taken most women several thousand dollars worth of plastic surgery and a personal trainer to achieve. It was trim and muscular without being bulky, soft where it was supposed to be soft and firm where it was supposed to be firm, and curved in all the right places. "Should I make them smaller?" he repeated when Mel did not answer. He tilted his head quizzically at her, wondering why she was staring at him like that. "Uh, no, they're fine." "Are you sure?" he asked, frowning. "They feel... odd." He shook his head. He had managed to get used to his old body, but this one felt completely different. It was not unpleasant, except for the distressing weight of his chest, but it would definitely take some getting used to. "They're fine, Cole," Mel assured him, scooping up the dress and tossing it to him, trying to look anywhere but at him. Cole caught it, frowning. He held it in his hands and looked at Mel. Her own chest was nowhere near as large as his. "Are you sure, Mel? I don't think this is normal." Mel covered her mouth with one hand, fighting back the hysterical laughter that was bubbling up inside of her. "It's not, Cole. That's the point. Just put the dress on." Cole frowned, confused by the seemingly contradictory nature of the first two statements. Shrugging, he held up the dress, trying to figure out how to put it on. Mel watched for a few minutes as he turned it over in his hands, then sighed. "Like a shirt, over your head," she provided. She shook her head as Cole tried to comply but only managed to get tangled in the extra fabric. Shaking her head, she stepped forward and helped him first back out of it and then into it again. "It's very tight," he observed with an uncomfortable frown, shifting and trying to resettle himself in it. When that did not work, he reached down and began adjusting things manually, looking up at Mel's bark of laughter. "What?" "Nothing…" She shook her head and handed him the sweater. "We'll... go get you some clothes that fit now. And... foundation garments." She nodded nervously. "That'll should help... a lot." "Are you okay, Mel?" he asked, lightly touching her throat. Mel froze. "Fine, Cole. Please don't do that." "Why?" he asked, letting his hand drop. "Just... don't." She shook her head. "Look, stay put and I'll go get the tape-measure." "Tape-measure?" he repeated. "Why?" "Uh..." Mel felt herself flushing. "To figure out what sizes you wear." She motioned vaguely to Cole's chest and hips. "Underwear and such. Just stay put." Cole watched her go, frowning. He had not expected her to have this much of a problem with his plan. He was not sure why she was having difficulty with it at all. She had never had a problem in the past when he had changed his outward appearance to do his job. Why she should now was beyond him. *** Mel measured him at home and then took him shopping, refusing to let him try anything on at the store. He could try it on when they got home, she said, and return what he did not like. It seemed an odd restriction to Cole, but he supposed that Mel simply did not want any of his questions to raise questions at the store. "Take the dress off," Mel ordered when they arrived back at the apartment. She dropped the bags on her bed and began going through them. "Underwear." She tore open a bag and tossed a pair in his general direction, not looking at him. Cole caught them and pulled them on. "Are you okay, Mel?" he asked, approaching her and lightly grasping her shoulder. Mel jumped and spun to face him. "God, Cole!" she gasped, shaking her head. "Could you not do that?" Cole frowned. "You're upset?" She shook her head quickly and turned her attention back to the bags. "No! It's just..." "Nervous. Why are you nervous?" he asked, confused. "Forget it. Bra!" She held one up and handed it to him. Cole held it in both hands, examining it in confusion, trying to figure out what went where as Mel made a determined effort to look anywhere else. "Is my body ugly, Mel?" he asked, putting the bra down and approaching her. Mel spun, startled by the question. "What? Why would you think that?" she asked, confused and uncomfortable. "Because you refuse to look at it. Did I do something wrong with it?" He frowned, distressed. "No, Cole." Mel shook her head. "It's fine, really." "Then why won't you look at it?" He sighed. "Or let me touch you?" Mel closed her eyes, ashamed. He was upset and it was her fault. "It's not the body, Cole. It's not you. It's me. This is just... it's weird for me." She sighed and looked into his eyes. He was the same height as she was, she noticed for the first time. "I'm just… used to having you look a certain way, and now you're completely different. It's just... it's going to take some getting used to." He nodded slowly. "Yes, Mel." "Let's get you dressed, okay?" she asked, squeezing his shoulder. Cole nodded and picked up the bra again. "How does it work?" Biting her lower lip, Mel shook her head and talked him through it. *** Cole stared into the full-length mirror deciding that he did, after all, like the way this body looked. The chest was still a little large for his taste, but much more manageable now that Mel had shown him how to use a bra to contain it. It was, otherwise, very trim and efficient. Not as pretty as Mel's body, but not bad. And Mel had been right during the shopping trip. Blue was definitely his color. Mel grinned at Cole as he scrutinized himself in the jeans and sleeveless turtleneck. It was definitely a good look on 'Rose'. They were going to have to do something about Cole's hair, though. He had a lot more of it now, and it was already starting to get mussed. "You're going to need to brush your hair several times a day now," she explained quietly, picking up the brush and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Longer hair gets tangled more quickly." "Is there a way to prevent this?" Cole asked, sitting down next to Mel. Now that he was fully clothed, she seemed a lot more comfortable, which was a relief. "Well, you brush it regularly," Mel said, absently beginning to run the brush through his hair. "And you'll want to use a brush instead of a comb now. It'll be easier." "Okay, Mel." Cole nodded, enjoying the way it felt to have her brushing his hair. "Is that all?" Mel considered. She kept her own hair short enough that it was not usually a problem, but Cole's new hair was quite long. "Well, if you braid it, you'll only have to brush it twice a day, morning and night." Cole nodded. He had seen the elegantly simple hairstyle before, and liked it very much. "Will you show me how?" "Sure." Mel nodded, smiling, and settled back further on the bed. This was starting to turn into a regular slumber party. First they had tried on clothes, now she was doing Cole's hair, and next would come makeup. All that was really missing was the girl-talk and a nice game of truth or dare. "Here, sit in front of me and give me your hands." Cole nodded and complied, paying careful attention as Mel walked him through the process of braiding his hair. After they had finished, she unbraided it and brushed it out again, telling him to try on his own. Cole obeyed, trying to follow her instructions but only managing to tie his hair into a series of knots. Laughing softly, Mel started undoing the damage. "Ouch," he protested as she tugged at a particularly troublesome tangle. "Oh, sorry, Cole," Mel said sympathetically, squeezing his shoulder. "Almost done." "Maybe short hair would be easier," he reflected. "But I like the long hair, even if I don't like this part of having long hair. What do you think, Mel?" Mel grinned. It was as close to vanity as the Cirronian had ever come. "Well, my grandmother always used to say that beauty hurts." Abruptly, Cole craned his neck, examining Mel over his shoulder, a frown on his face. "What?" she asked, startled by his sudden, close scrutiny. "Are you in pain, Mel?" he asked, turning to face her. "What?" she asked, frowning in confusion. "If beauty hurts, Mel, you must be in a lot of pain," he said quietly, frowning sympathetically and touching her throat. Mel stared, wide-eyed. As compliments went, it was roundabout, and if it had come from any other man she would not have considered it sincere, but from Cole, it had to have been. He actually looked troubled. "No, Cole," she reassured gently, shaking her head. "It just means that it takes a lot of hassle to make yourself look pretty. It's not actually painful." "Oh." Cole smiled, reassured. "That's good, Mel." He smiled more widely at her and nodded. Mel grinned back, shaking her head. "Look, I guess that it's not all that important for you to learn to braid your hair. I'll do it for you in the mornings and take it out at night. Sound good?" Cole smiled and nodded. It felt very nice to have Mel touching his head like that for some reason. "Yes, Mel." She smiled and nodded. "Turn around and we'll get the rest of those snarls out. Then I'll show you how to do your makeup." Cole nodded and turned around, allowing Mel to finish brushing his hair. It was very nice, the most she had ever touched him at once, and it made him feel cared about. When she had finished, he covered her hand with his own, smiling and thanking her and not dropping his hands until she started to look uncomfortable with the contact. Makeup was harder, and as attentive as Cole was to Mel's instructions he simply could not get it. Finally, sighing in frustration, he threw the makeup brush across the bedroom and stalked into the kitchen, leaving a very startled Mel in his wake. "How do you do this every day?" he demanded when she followed him into the kitchen. "How do you remember all of this and..." He trailed off, shaking his head in frustrated confusion. "I know it's hard, Cole," Mel said gently. "It just... it takes practice." "I don't have time to practice!" he protested, shaking his head. "I need to learn now or how am I going to be able to keep you safe?" He sniffed, aware that, for some reason, his nose was beginning to run. "I need to keep you safe, but I can't, and they keep trying to harm you, and..." Mel stared uncertainly at him as he began to cry. "Cole, no... don't... it's okay…" she stammered, worried. "Mel, I don't feel..." Cole stared at her in confusion, clueless as to why he was standing in her kitchen crying. He felt ridiculous, and that only made him cry harder. "Oh, Col...…" Mel drew him into her arms, holding him close. "Shh," she murmured reassuringly. "It's going to be okay." "What's wrong with me?" he sniffled. "Hormones," Mel told him gently. "Female hormones. They can take a little getting used to." "I don't like them!" Cole sobbed. "And my stomach hurts!" Mel frowned, worried. "Are you sick?" "I don't know." "Show me where it hurts," she directed gently. Cole pointed, not trusting himself to speak yet. Mel blinked. Cramps. Great, he had PMS. "It's going to be okay," she soothed. "Go sit down in the living-room and I'll be there in one second." Cole nodded meekly and walked into the living room. Shaking her head, Mel walked into the bathroom and grabbed a few Midol. Poor Cole, his first time with PMS and not a crumb of chocolate in the house. He would just have to settle for ice cream. Mel scooped up a large bowl of cookies and cream and carried it and the pills into the living room. "Take these," she told him gently, handing him the pills and a glass of water. "What are they?" "They'll make your stomach feel better." "Am I sick?" he asked, sniffling. "No, Cole." She shook her head gently as he downed the pills. "You're just feeling a little hormonal. It's part of being a woman. You'll get used to it." "You have to put up with this all the time? Poor Mel…" Mel smiled and fed him a few spoons of ice cream. "Not all the time, just a couple of days a month." "Every month? That's horrible!" "You get used to it," she assured him with a grin, handing him the bowl of ice cream. "Eat. It'll help." Cole looked dubiously down at the ice cream. "Is that why you sometimes sneak into the living-room and eat ice-cream at three in the morning?" he asked finally. Mel laughed and nodded. "Yes, Cole." She watched him eat and, slowly, calm down. "Feeling better?" she asked finally, carrying his bowl into the kitchen. Cole nodded, but it was reluctant and lacked conviction. "Need a hug?" she asked, smiling. This nod was more confident, and Cole was grateful when Mel once more slid her arms around him. "How do you do it?" he whispered. "I've only been in this body a few hours and it's so confusing... " "You get used to it," she assured him with a smile. "You think this is bad, it's only because you didn't have to deal with puberty." She laughed and shook her head. "Look, want to put off the makeup lesson until tomorrow?" she offered. "Give yourself time to get used to things." He nodded gratefully. "I think that might be best, Mel. And you need to sleep." She nodded. "Are you going to be okay alone?" she asked gently. He nodded slowly. "I can practice walking in high-heels." "And your voice," she reminded him gently. "And my voice," he agreed with a nod. "Audrey Hepburn," she told him, grabbing a handful of tapes. "Very classy woman, carried herself wonderfully. Start with Breakfast at Tiffany's." He nodded. "Do I have to use her voice?" "Whose voice do you want?" Mel asked, bemused. "Yours." "Mine?" Mel repeated, startled. He smiled and nodded. "I like your voice, Mel." She shrugged and nodded. "If you want to do my voice, go ahead, Cole." "You should start calling me Rose," he reminded her. "Yeah, guess I should. Rose." Mel smiled and shook her head. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?" 'Rose' smiled and nodded. "Yes, Mel. Good night, Mel." "You come get me if you need anything at all tonight." He smiled more widely and nodded again. "Yes, thank you, Mel." "I'll see you in the morning." "Yes, Mel." Cole smiled and walked her to her bedroom door. Impulsively, he hugged her. "Sleep well." "Uh, thanks." Mel smiled uncertainly up at him for a moment before fleeing into her bedroom. Cole frowned, wondering why he had done that and why she had reacted in that way. Shrugging, he walked into the living room and put on the first tape. After watching for a few minutes, he rose and slid on the high-heels that Mel had bought. He immediately stumbled, face-first into the coffee table. As he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, healing his black eye, he reflected that it was going to be a very long night. End Act 3 Act 4 "Morning, Rose." Mel smiled at Cole as she walked into the kitchen. He was sitting in the living room. "How are you feeling?" "My feet hurt," Cole replied in the voice that he had perfected overnight. It was not identical to Mel's but the resemblance was obvious. Mel nodded sympathetically. "High-heels can do that." "After the first hour, I could barely walk…" He shook his head in disgust, recalling the amount of energy he had been forced to expend healing them over and over. "Beauty really does hurt." Mel smiled and joined him on the couch. "Poor baby. Are they better now?" He nodded. "I healed them, but my back hurts, too. And my stomach again," he added in a whisper, near tears. "Poor Cole." Mel shook her head and gently squeezed his shoulder. "I'll get the Midol." "What do you call the kind of shoes you wear?" he called after her. "Flats, Cole. They're called flats," she told him, returning to the living room with the pill-bottle. "I can see why you wear them. Thank you," he added, accepting the bottle. "What I don't see," he said, helping himself to a few pills, "is why any human woman does wear these 'high-heels'." He shook his head and handed the bottle back to her. "Keep it." She shrugged. "I don't really know, why, Cole. A lot of the things that women do in the name of beauty don't really make much sense." "It's very strange. It must be annoying to have to do it all the time." He shook his head. "Will you braid my hair now?" Mel grinned and nodded. "Sure. Let me just go get the brush." "Do you think it would be possible for me to wear flats instead of heels?" Cole asked as she returned to the living room and settled behind him on the couch. "Or do all dancers have to wear high-heels?" "I'm honestly not sure, Cole. Uh, Rose. I guess you could try to wear flats. Ask or something when you interview for the job." She shrugged and absently began brushing his hair. "God," she remarked absently. "I wish my hair were this manageable…" "What do you mean, Mel?" "You have great hair. Where'd you get it?" she asked. "I don't remember it from any of the magazines." "Oh, I got it from that woman on Deep Space Nine. The one who played the first Dax." Mel grinned faintly. He could definitely have picked worse TV characters to base his hair on. "I didn't know you were into Sci-fi," she remarked Cole closed his eyes, relaxing under Mel's care. "I'm really not. But I've seen a few episodes, and she does have very pretty hair. I didn't like Rose's hair. It was too short and the style looked funny." Mel nodded. "It's a style that takes getting used to. It would definitely have looked out of place today." He nodded. "I thought so." She worked on his hair in silence for a few moments before sighing deeply. "Cole, are you sure about this?" He nodded. "Yes, Mel. I can't see another way. I need to keep you safe." "It's the craziest idea I've ever heard, you know," she told him. "But it will work." "Maybe." Mel sighed. "I don't like you walking into a situation with that many fugitives. I mean have you considered the fact that you are not exactly going to be able to hide your Collector in your G-string?" Cole frowned. He had not considered that, actually. "I'll keep it in my... purse." "Which will spend all its time locked in a locker in the back." Cole nodded slowly. "You're just going to have to back me up." "Me?" she repeated. "Whoa. When did I get implicated in this plan?" He smiled at her. "When you pointed out that I wouldn't be able to keep my Collector on hand. You can carry both of them." "You actually expect me to spend time inside the club?" Mel demanded, shaking her head. Cole nodded. "I was talking to Isabel, and she said that significant others can usually get into these clubs even if they aren't members." "I'm Rose's significant other, now?" Mel asked, shaking her head. "Oh, for the love of... Cole!" she protested. "We've pretended to be involved before," he pointed out. His smile faded as he recalled what had happened on that occasion. "Why not again?" "Um, how about because I'm not gay?" Cole shrugged. "That's okay, Mel. Neither am I." Mel blinked, a pained expression on her face. She was not sure, but she thought he might have been being deliberately obtuse. Even if he was not... "How the hell am I supposed to convince people that I am?" she demanded, shaking her head. Cole shrugged. "I'm sure people will believe us if we say so." "Cole, I have a bar to run. I can't spend all my time at a strip-club." "It will only be for a few days, Mel." "Yeah, that's a comfort. Cole, I can't be in one of those places." "Why not?" Mel shook her head. "I just wouldn't be comfortable, okay?" Cole frowned. "Why does the naked human form bother you?" he asked quizzically. Mel scowled. "Turn around and stop moving your head so I can get this braid done," she advised in a low voice. "Yes, Mel." He had obviously upset her again and was sorry to have done so. Somehow, he felt things a lot more strongly in this body. It must have been that PMS Mel had mentioned. Whatever it was, he did not like it one bit and looked forward to having his own body back. *** "No, just go easier on the blush, okay?" Mel said, shaking her head. They were sitting downstairs in the bar so that Mel could show 'Rose' how to apply makeup in between dealing with customers. "Too much?" Cole asked, using a damp cloth to wipe it off, staring in a mirror. "It's a very fine line, Mel. Do human females have to go to school to learn all of this?" "Nope." She smiled at the question, shaking her head. "We just kind of pick it up as we go along." "Amazing." Cole shook his head and stared at her, awed by the amount of information that she had been forced to acquire without any formalized schooling. She managed to make it all seem so effortless, too. Mel smiled faintly. "Yeah, I guess so. It can be a royal pain at times, though." Cole considered this for a few moments, not sure why she bothered. He was quite sure that, as lovely as she was with effort, she would still be quite pretty without any. After all, he had always considered much of her beauty to come from within. "But it's only for a few days," Mel assured him cheerfully. "Then you can go back to being the you we both know and love." Cole smiled and nodded. "I'd like that, Mel. I don't enjoy it in this body very much. I feel very strange. I think it must be the hormones." Mel nodded. "Well, you get used to those, too, but hopefully you won't have time to." Cole nodded in agreement and resumed trying to get just the right amount of blush on his face. Mel had explained that there was more than one amount of makeup that was acceptable, depending on the occasion. Sometimes, very little makeup was best, at others, more was better. Mel had explained that, as a general rule, the more dressed up a woman was, the more makeup she should wear. Mel wore very little makeup most days, only applying much when she was in formal wear and going out. "Now, for everyday wear," Mel explained again as Cole worked with the brush, "you should only wear enough to make it look like you aren't wearing any." He looked up at her. "That still makes no sense." She laughed and shook her head. "I know it doesn't." The front door opened and Nestov walked in. He took one look at 'Rose' and made a beeline towards the bar. "Somebody call the cops, because this woman has stolen my heart!" he announced cheerfully. Cole looked up at him with a scowl. "You do realize that lines like that work best on women who have consumed large quantities of alcohol, don't you, Nestov?" he asked mildly. "Whoa!" Nestov yelped, recoiling. "Cole, my man, I did not recognize you." He took a judicious step backwards. "Sorry." Mel half-closed her eyes in irritation. "Did you want something?" she asked, shaking her head in disgust. "Because I have told you how I feel about you using my bar to attempt to pick up women." "I'll just be leaving then." Nestov smiled uncomfortably and backed all the way to the door before turning and going. "He seems much more uncomfortable around you since you got your own Collector," Cole observed, amused at Nestov's response. Mel grinned and nodded. "Good." She sighed and shook her head. "I can't believe that anyone actually thinks lines like that work," she muttered. "It's in the book," Cole told her. Mel nodded. "Ah, 'A Thousand and One Lame Pickup Lines'. That book should be burned. The lines are shallow and insincere and men who think that they work really need to have a little sense smacked into them." Cole nodded faintly, absently filing away that piece of information for future reference. "We should go to the club soon," he noted. Mel sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I guess so." Cole looked up at her, concerned by her continuing reluctance. "Mel, this is necessary." "I know that, Cole," she sighed. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it." "Why does this bother you?" he asked. "I don't understand, Mel." "You don't understand why it bothers me that you're walking into a situation where you'll be surrounded by alien criminals dedicated to killing you?" Mel asked, shaking her head. "It's not the first time and you've never been this bothered before, Mel," Cole pointed out. "Something else is bothering you. What?" Mel sighed and closed her eyes. "You honestly don't know, do you?" she asked quietly. Cole shook his head and replied gravely, "No, Mel." She sighed and looked up at him. "Cole, it's... it's you wearing this body." She pointed. "But you said that there was nothing wrong with this body." He frowned in confusion. "Well, no. I mean, there isn't. As female bodies go it's almost perfect, but… That's just it. It's a perfect female body…" "Oh," Cole said softly. "You prefer me as a male." "Well, yeah!" Mel nodded vehemently. "Of course I do, Cole." "Oh." He nodded slowly. "We should go to the club now." "Yeah." Mel sighed and nodded. "I guess so. As soon as Gail gets here." Cole nodded and dropped the makeup brush with a sigh. "This isn't working, Mel. I'm not good at this and I'm never going to be." "Come here," Mel murmured, picking up the brush. "I'll do it." *** Mel sat at an empty table, glancing uncertainly around the club. She felt as uncomfortable as hell being in this place, even if all the young ladies on stage were fully clothed. "You look like you could use a drink," a soft voice said, placing a glass in front of her. "Rose said you like your martinis dry and made with gin." Mel looked up, smiling at the young woman. "Thanks. You must be Toni?" Toni nodded and sat down, putting her own drink on the table and extending her hand. "That's me. Hi." Mel grinned and shook hands with the girl. "Mel." Toni nodded. "Rose should be done talking to Veronica soon, Mel." "Good," Mel muttered, taking a long sip of her drink. "You don't like her trying to get a job here, do you?" Toni asked gently. "Not particularly, no." Mel shook her head. "Not that there's anything wrong with it," she added quickly, not wanting to offend the girl who really did seem very nice. Toni nodded understandingly. "I know, but Rosie is just a baby." Mel nodded. It was as close to the truth as she was willing to get. "There are… things that Rose just doesn't understand yet." Toni nodded again, a sympathetic expression on her face. "How old is she anyway? Eighteen? Nineteen?" "Twenty," Mel said, because that was how old Rose had been in the picture. "How long have you two been together?" Toni asked absently. "Um, we've known each other for a little over a year," Mel said honestly. Toni nodded. "Cool." They sat in silence for a few more minutes until Mel asked, "What happened to the mirror?" she nodded to the shattered mirror behind the bar. Toni shrugged. "Dunno. Guess they broke it putting it in or something. New one's supposed to be here tomorrow, someone said." Mel nodded and lapsed into silence again. "You know, we'll take good care of her," Toni said softly, patting her hand. "Girls in places like this, they look out for each other." "That's, good to know." Mel nodded, hoping she did not look as anxious as she felt. "I... I worry. A lot," she admitted with a shrug. "I'm so used to taking care of of Rose, that I just..." "Worry." Toni nodded. "But you don't have to, everyone here's really nice." Mel nodded reluctantly. "Well, I appreciate you looking out for Rose." "Well, she certainly seems like a nice kid." Toni smiled and nodded, draining her glass and rising. "I need to go now. It was nice meeting you." Mel smiled and nodded. "It was good to meet you, too. Thanks for the drink." "No problem. Will we be seeing you around?" "Uh, I don't know." Mel shifted uncomfortably. "Hey, it's cool. Not all partners particularly like watching their girlfriends up on that stage." She shrugged. The smile that had been on her face since sitting down faded slightly as two men walked by, deep in conversation. One wore sunglasses and had his arm in a sling. "You okay?" Mel asked softly, wondering at that reaction. Toni nodded, grinning in embarrassment. "Sorry. Guy just gives me the creeps." "The one in shades?" Mel asked, recognizing an Enixian when she saw one. "Nah, the pit-bull he was talking to," Toni said although, in truth, they both did. She shivered. "Ryan, one of the bouncers." "Oh." Mel nodded faintly. "Why?" She shrugged. "Don't know. Just something about the way he carries himself, I guess." Toni shook her head. "Not important. See you around, Mel." With a smile and a wave, she returned to the stage. Mel sighed and looked around again in time to see the bartender taking a hit off of an inhaler. Nodulian. This place was crawling with fugitives. They might have been forced to go outside for dancers, but Mel was beginning to doubt that anyone else who worked in the place was, in fact, human. She shook her head and finished her drink, looking around for Cole. He was just emerging from the back, and he walked directly to the stage, taking a few moments to speak to Toni, who grinned and nodded. He walked over to Mel, then, smiling. "Got the job!" he announced with a smile as she rose. He slid his arms around her, pulling her close, ignoring it when she tensed. "The owner is a Vardian, Mel," he whispered. "Don't think she's one of the fugitives, though. I didn't recognize her." "Did she recognize you?" Mel whispered back. Cole shook his head. "No. I've been in this body too long to be very easy to recognize." She nodded, allowing herself to smile. "Good." "We'll talk more when we get home," Cole told her quietly, pulling away. Mel nodded. "Okay, let's get out of here." Toni joined them as they walked to the exit. "Congratulations, Rosie. And don't worry, Mel. I'll keep a good eye on her for you." Mel smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Toni." Cole grinned as well. "Yes, Toni. Thank you." "Welcome. See you at three, Rosie." Cole nodded and explained to Mel, "Toni is going to show me some of her dances this afternoon." Mel smiled and nodded anxiously. "Great, great... good to hear. Thanks, Toni." "Yeah, Mel. See you later." Toni smiled at them as they departed, shaking her head as the door closed behind them. "Girlfriends my ass," she muttered, shaking her head and returning to the stage." End Act 4 Tag Toni stared after them for a few minutes after they had gone, shaking her head. When she became aware that one of the bouncers was staring at her, she returned to the stage. "Problem, Toni?" one of the other dancers asked, approaching. Lana had told her to keep her eyes opened for strange behavior among the human dancers. "Nah, Nix." Toni shook her head. "So, what's the story with those two?" Nix asked, nodding towards the door. "Oh, the girl's never danced a day in her life. Needs the cash, I guess. So I offered to show her the ropes." Nix nodded, pulling an inhaler out of her pocket and taking a few puffs. "You, too?" Toni asked, surprised. "And here I thought I was the only asthmatic dumb enough to dance for a living…" "Money talks." Nix grinned. She had always been a big believer in that phrase, on any planet. "So, the girl okay?" "Rosie? Seems to be." "And the woman with her?" "Girlfriend." "Yeah? Looked like a nark to me." "More like a Sunday school teacher." Toni winked at her and wandered off to practice her routine, faintly troubled. As nice as she could be, Nix was as unnerving as that bouncer Ryan. Nix lingered on stage for a few more minutes before walking to Lana's office. "Well?" Lana asked, not looking up from the schematics she was perusing. "According to Toni, they're harmless." "You trust the human's judgment?" Lana asked, glancing up at the Nodulian. Nix nodded. "Members of various subcultures are generally able to recognize other members of that subculture. Toni says strippers on this planet can smell a cop a mile off." "She said that?" Lana asked, amused. "Well, she may have omitted the 'on this planet' part, but yes." Lana nodded. "And the other human dancers?" "They all seem legitimate." "I see. And are any of them… curious about anything?" "I've heard a few murmurs about the broken mirror, but beyond that, no." "What have you heard about that?" "People want to know how it got broken six feet above ground-level." Nix tilted her head at Lana, smiling. "I see." Lana smiled faintly. "Is that all?" "Yes." Nix nodded. "Do you think they'll begin to ask questions once the operation is under way." "Zin didn't hire me to think," Nix pointed out, instantly regretting it as she found herself on the receiving end of a hateful glance from the Vardian. Controlled rage did not begin to describe the anger in her eyes. "I would guess not." Lana rose languidly, approaching the Nodulian and circling her thoughtfully, her expression and bearing that of a panther contemplating its prey. "What were you on Sar-Top for again?" she asked, her voice almost a purr. Nix closed her eyes, forcing herself not to betray her concern at this sudden, close attention. "Treason." "Mmm… That's right, a spy. You were a spy." Lana nodded. "How fitting. Let's hope you can do a better job of it on Earth than you did on Nodul." The Vardian smiled, examining the Nodulian thoughtfully for several more moments. "Well, you are right about one thing. Zin did not hire you to think. You leave that to those of us who are suited to it and we will all get along just fine." "Yes, ma'am." "Keep your eyes opened and your mouth shut." "Yes, ma'am." "You may go now." Nix nodded and turned to leave. "Oh, and one more thing?" The Nodulian froze. "That Cirronian fanatic slips in here undetected and it's your head." Lana's smile was malevolent. "Now you may go." As the Nodulian slipped out Tarn walked in. "Ah, Tarn, my friend. What have you to report?" "The earth-moving equipment is in place, ma'am. We can begin immediately. And well ahead of schedule." Lana smiled widely. "Splendid news, Tarn." He nodded. "We will not be able to delve too deeply until the rest of the equipment arrives. We'll need to stabilize the walls of the shaft after we've delved more than a few hundred meters, but by the time that becomes an issue that equipment will also have arrived." "Haag will be greatly pleased." Before the other Vardian could reply, she continued, "And Doctor Zin, I am sure, will be infinitely more pleased." She smiled. While the financial rewards for serving Zin were, indeed, great, the rewards for personal loyalty, greater. Lana knew that her status with Zin would only increase if it were her efforts which released him from his tomb. And, when that day came, Zin would no longer be reduced to depending on an Orsusian as his second-in-command. Haag would be dead, and Lana, a Vardian, would be ruling by Zin's side. Which was only proper, after all. End Tag |
"The
new zoning ordinance went through. There goes the neighborhood."
