Chapter 4

- Daniel-

Okay, I knew the Xanadu was big but until you look down at it from a few thousand meters you can't really know just how fucking big it really is! Sure I know the specs and you can look them up yourself if you want to: 1,450 meters in length, 524 meters wide, displaces about 180,000 tonnes and carries up to 20,000 passengers with a crew of almost 3,000. That's not a ship, it's a small floating island!

We got a good look at it as we flew out to meet it on the shuttle. Of course it can't pull into port like the cruise ships of old did; it's much too big for that so there are only two ways you can get to it, either by flying like we did or taking the surface skimmers that come out from the ports along the coast as it passes by on its predetermined itinerary. We were one of the last to board on this maiden cruise since it had filled up moving down the east coast of North America.

I have to admit I was kind of looking forward to it although the thought of being cooped up with 23,000 of my closest non-friends didn't thrill me overly much but I figured what the hell, if I couldn't find something to do in fifty-plus million cubic meters of ship then something was wrong with me. We had fourteen days to ramble around this hulk and find what kind of trouble we could get into and from what I'd seen in the brochure if I got to even half of it I'd be lucky. I mean there are over fifty-some bars on the barge alone not counting the four large dance venues as they called them. Crap! How many bars do you need? I know I only need one. Hell, Mike could get thrown out of three a night and still not use them up! At least the booze is included in the ticket; I'd hate to see what her tab would run if it wasn't. Actually I had a pretty good idea since I've seen the one she runs at Bennie's; I paid it off all the time. Yeah, I'm what the head-shrinks would call an enabler but I can't help myself; so sue me.

We gave the appropriate ooh's and aah's as the shuttle made its circle of the X prior to setting down and even more once we passed through the boarding tube in the receiving area. Our luggage was automatically taken from the belly of the shuttle and forwarded to our assigned rooms after finishing with whatever security checks they had to do with it, so it was just us bellying up to the receiving counter to get checked in.

"What do you think they're doing with our stuff?" Mike asked almost nervously.

"Standard scans and sweeps, I suppose," I answered with a shrug.

"Why? You afraid someone will be pawing through your panties?" Brian teased.

"I'm not worried about that," Mike shot back. "I didn't bring any."

"Ouch," Brian winced covering his eyes. "I didn't need that vision. My brain's going to hurt for a day now."

"Lucky for you that's going to be a really small pain," Mike said punching him in the arm.

"Quiet, children," I sighed. "Mike, you didn't bring any heat with you did you? You know damn well you can't and they'd be looking for it."

"No, not exactly," she said trying to look completely innocent. She doesn't pull that off terribly well.

"What do you mean "not exactly"," I said through gritted teeth.

"Well, I might of brought a blade or two," she muttered looking everywhere except at me.

"Mike," I growled. "If they throw your ass in the brig, I'm going to let you rot there till we leave."

"But it's only a knife or two, Boss," she protested. "Or three or four. But it's not like they don't have knives on board here. It's not like they're going to find them anyway," she muttered under her breath.

"Whatever," I sighed. "Just don't expect me to visit you in whatever bilge they chain you to." By that time it was our turn to check in which was easy enough. ID into the slot, retinal scan to confirm I was really me and a slim, almost transparent band fastened around the wrist.

"What's this?" I asked of the girl behind the counter with the incredibly large and mostly visible breasts. Yes, she did have a face, I think. And eyes, but don't quote me on that; mine never got that high.

"Ship's identification, sir," she answered. I doubt she even noticed where I was staring. She probably got that a thousand times a day. "All our guests must wear them. It allows you access to all guest areas on board and automatically charges your account if there are extras you want that are not included in your package." From what I could tell the only things not included in the price of the ticket were bed companions or excursions ashore; neither of which I was particularly interested in. Bed companion because while I have nothing against pros — I'm sure they're very good at what they do — I've always figured if I can't entice a lady to want to spend some time in my bed the old-fashioned way — and no, I'm not talking about a club to the head and dragging her back to my cave by the hair — then I don't deserve it.

As far as the excursions go I'd been to most of the islands we were going to pass by and it wasn't as a tourist. There weren't many pleasant memories in those places for me. Yeah, maybe someday I'll go back if for no other reason than to see what they looked like not torn to shit and maybe to put a few ghosts to bed finally, but not yet.

Amazingly enough alarms didn't start screaming nor did the local cops drop by to sweep Mike off her feet and personally escort her to a special room with plastisteel bars and toilets with no seats. I'm not sure what that says about their security although maybe they don't consider edged implements to be weapons worthy of notice which speaks not only to their security but also their intelligence. But at least that wasn't my freaking problem; all I had to look forward to was two weeks of fun, fun, fun on the world's newest playground.

-The Rainbow Coalition-

The man walked quickly down the corridor casting furtive glances over his shoulder now and then. Even thought it was the cheapest berthing on the ship — the Belmont Line described it as Economy Class — it was still brightly lit and well appointed. The cabins were on the interior with no true exterior windows and on the lower decks which explained the slightly reduced fares.

Satisfied he wasn't being followed, he doubled back slightly and pressed the announcer on the door jamb. Seconds later he received an answer to his call.

"Who is it?" came a gravely voice from the nearly invisible speaker.

"Jim, it's me, Bill," the man at the door answered in hushed tones. There was no reply except a soft click from the door so he pressed down the handle and pushed his way in.

"What do you want, Mr. Brown?" the only other occupant of the room asked as the door closed behind him.

"I just wanted to let you know all of us are in our rooms, Jim."

"That's 'Mr. Black', you idiot!" the man hissed and Jim shied back just a little. Mr. Black was imposing at best and intimidating any other time. Of average height, he was trim but heavily muscled with piercing blue eyes that were cold as the ice they resembled. "You're supposed to use our covers at all times! What the fuck are you doing here? We're not supposed to know each other and here you are in my stateroom! Jesus Christ, you moron, what the fuck are you trying to do? Blow the operation before it even gets started?"

"N ... no, of course not, Bi ... ah, Mr. Black," Jim stammered. "I just wanted to tell you we're all here and ready to go. Don't worry; nobody followed me. I made sure of that."

"Christ on a crutch, you idiot," Mr. Black said holding up his wrist displaying the ships identification band. "They don't have to follow you; this does it for them!"

"Holy God," Mr. Black sighed lifting his eyes upward. "Please help me tolerate the less fortunate of your children before I have to kill them just to put them out of their misery." Lowering his eyes back down to the shaken Mr. Brown, he sighed, shook his head and continued, "Okay, it's probably not a big deal right now but for the Lord's sake, follow the plan! Fine, you're all in place, that's good. Anything else?"

"I don't think so," Jim shook his head and then paused. "Oh yeah, where did we come up with these stupid names? I mean come on, Mr. Black, Mr. Brown, Mr. Blue, Mr. Green, Mr. Gray and Mr. White? They sound ridiculous."

"They came from an old two-dee vid about a team of robbers taking and holding a tube train hostage for ransom," Mr. Black chuckled. "I used the names mostly as a joke." Jim was surprised; if he could have bet a New Dollar against a million he would have bet Mr. Black had no sense of humor whatsoever. "Don't worry; I doubt anybody alive today has ever seen it. It's safe enough."

"Okay, if you say so," Brown shrugged. "But we ain't looking for ransom. How does that fit?"

"Just go," Black said closing his eyes briefly in silent prayer. After Mr. Brown left Black sat down and mused, Maybe I should leave his dumb ass on board when we're done. That cocksucker is too stupid to live.

-Sumalee-

Afternoons are the worst. You would think they would be the easiest and in a way you would be right. They are the slowest part of the day except for maybe mid-morning but I think the worst part about them is I know my shift has just started and now I have another twelve hours before I can kick off these damn torture devices called high heels and slip into bed for a few hours sleep or if I'm lucky a little loving before it starts all over again. I know I shouldn't complain; there must be two-hundred-thousand girls in Thailand Province alone that would kill for the chance to be where I am, but I still do, at least to myself.

My story wasn't that much different from thousands of others I have heard. When I first met Daniel Mayhem, I was twenty-four which meant I had grown up during the time of Consolidation as our Chinese administrators normally referred to it or The War as most of the Westerners and the rest of the world would say. Being young and knowing no different, I could not honestly say it was a better or worse than Thailand had been under the old juntas. From what Daniel has told me about other parts of the world, the spread of the Chinese into most of Southeast Asia was relatively bloodless and quick. One day there were Thai troops watching our streets and the next day they were Chinese. For the most part we hardly noticed the difference.

Of course we weren't Muslim. At least the Muslin population in Thailand had been relatively small. Estimates before the Consolidation had been between ten and fifteen percent; naturally afterwards it was effectively zero. At least we were not in Indonesia where it has been estimated almost ninety percent of the population had been "neutralized." Even now I feel like I should be feeling horror over the virtual extermination of millions maybe even billions of human beings but I cannot; the numbers are too large for me to fathom. Daniel once told me, "The death of one is a tragedy, a million a statistic and a billion is a trend." He admitted it wasn't original with him but it still rings of sad truth. To feel for the death of a loved one is human but how do you grieve for the death of billions? He just shrugs and says not to try; it is not possible and maybe he is right. I know that I cannot.

I have been asked so many times what it was like the first time we met. It would be romantic to say it was love at first sight, something like, "Our eyes met and in an instant we knew our souls had found their one true match." Unfortunately, as Daniel would say, that is bullshit. Of course he tells me that it was lust at first sight and I am willing to allow him this fleeting brush with honesty. I never considered myself unattractive and yet if he felt an overwhelming feeling of lust towards me that first day he certainly controlled it extremely well!

The romantic stories and silly historical-drama vids aside, our first meeting was remarkably unremarkable. For the most part he strolled into the lounge where I was working, sat down at the bar and ordered a scotch. I will admit he was an attractive man: not overly tall, close cropped hair and a ready smile, but certainly not vid-star handsome. Just another man.

"Hi there," he said pleasantly. "I'll have a scotch, straight up."

"Any particular brand?" I asked.

"Just whatever you have as bar scotch," he replied. "Unless it's the real good stuff I can't tell the difference and even then only for the first couple of sips. Besides the bar scotch is free; anything else, I'd have to pay extra."

"Very good, sir." It only took me a moment or two to bring him his drink. Usually I try to avoid the single male customers after I have served them; it gets trying being propositioned a hundred or so times a night and starting it this early in the shift would be nothing but a real bother. Maybe it was some of that bartender's extra-sensory perception we are supposed to develop, or maybe my doctorate in clinical psychology, but for some reason I felt he was not the kind that would do that. However I would prefer to think it was my woman's intuition. For whatever reason, I stayed near him doing those silly little things bartenders do when they are not serving.

"So, Sumalee," he said looking at my ship's identification tag. Normally this would be an occasion for a man to stare at my breasts. Although I am not particularly large-chested the uniform we wear does put what little I have on prominent display. He didn't, though — stare, that is. Oh, he looked and he seemed to appreciate what he saw but he didn't stare and drool like so many others would have. "Been a long day already? Is it usually this dead in here?"

"I just started my shift and yes, for the most part it is fairly quiet around this time." His eyes had returned to mine even before I had started my answer. It is difficult to say what it was I was really feeling at that time. I don't care who she is, a woman enjoys being appreciated as a woman. I have talked to professional prostitutes and they tell me the same thing. Even one who is paid to have sex with a man still enjoys being treated as a woman and not just the vehicle for what is really just assisted masturbation. He looked at me and enjoyed what he saw even though it was obvious he had no intention of doing anything more than just visually appreciating me. It was nice and unusual and yes, I enjoyed the attention without the pressure of having to fend him off.

He must have been there for about half an hour and even though there were one or two other customers during that time I always seemed to gravitate back to his seat. I would like to say I remember everything we had talked about that first time but in all honesty I cannot. The conversation flitted from one topic to another almost randomly: the ship, my job, my family and my education. Come to think about it now, it seemed like we talked mostly about me. That he was a veteran of The War came up but only in passing as was the fact he was here because a friend asked him. It wasn't until after he had left that I came to realize he had been thoroughly, skillfully and quite unintentionally seducing me.

Yes it was unintentional, I truly believe, and he swears to this day he was not, whether it was intentional or unintentional. The fact remains he was seducing me and of even greater surprise was the fact I neither resented nor desired to actively oppose it!

Surprising in two ways: I consider myself to be thoroughly bi-sexual; that is I enjoy sex with either women or men although I admit I tend to prefer women more than men. I am a bit aggressive sexually and this has a tendency to result in conflicting personalities with men who are also for the most part sexually aggressive. I enjoy women's soft bodies and revel in their submissiveness and complete surrender when I finally complete my conquest. I have never felt completely comfortable in the same way when I have been with a man. It was my nature, or so I thought.

Secondly, I would never have contemplated getting seriously involved with one of the passengers. There was no hard and fast ship's policy against it but there were professionals retained as crew to do that if the passenger wished. For one of the regular crew to have liaison with a passenger even for non-monetary reasons was frowned upon. It was tactfully viewed as the purview of the professionals, especially since a portion of their compensation was returned to the ship.

Even if it were not frowned upon, I have never had a desire for short term dalliances. I do not do one-night stands as the NoAm's would say. My roommate/lover at the time and I had been together for the six months we had been in training during the work-up for this opening and even though there was little more emotional involvement than just friendship, it was the least I was willing to do. I may be varied in my sexual appetites but I am not promiscuous.

All of which astounded me upon reflection as to why this man, a fairly unremarkable man among thousands, with very little effort could have had me on my back and playing sheet music as he so crudely puts it.

Looking back, maybe that first meeting was more memorable than I had first thought.

-Daniel-

After checking in we found our way up to our cabins which were all grouped together on one of the top decks. The cabin or "suite" as I found out later was huge! At least it seemed so to me. You could have easily bunked my entire team in there without even rubbing elbows. But as big as the main room was the bed was even bigger. Okay, not really but it sure seemed to be. I swear it was big enough to sleep five unfriendly people without having to worry about touching each other. What in the hell did anyone need with a bed that big?

Anyway it only took me a few minutes to stow the few things I'd brought with me and I went to find out what everybody else was up to. Weird was the only one left and he was taking the virtual tour of the engineering spaces. Well he is Weird. I didn't ask but I'd be willing to bet the program he was watching wasn't the glossy pabulum designed for the average passenger, not with the schematics and technical info I could see on the holo-tank. I briefly considered if I should worry about him hacking the ship's system that quickly but shrugged it off. The chances they would catch him were so remote as to be essentially nonexistent; let him have his fun. I figured I should probably be more worried about Mike out roaming unfettered but gave that up as a lost cause almost immediately. Starting that would lead to two weeks of constant aggravation and besides if she got into trouble and they threw her in the brig at least I'd know where she was.

So I took off to do a little exploring of my own and wouldn't you know one of the first things I found was a bar. I figured I was already four or five drinks behind Mike by now so a little catching up might be in order. The place was dead with just a couple of other people in there. I think the servers outnumbered the patrons so I decided not to bother them and bellied up to the bar and plopped my butt down.

The bartender was a pretty little thing: Oriental for sure, but maybe of mixed race. She had shiny black hair pulled back in a ponytail and two of the biggest, black eyes I have ever seen, the kind of eyes that you can't actually see where the iris and the pupil separate they were so dark, just huge pools of black ink surrounded by white.

I ordered a scotch and glanced down at her nametag. Sumalee was her name and below that was her country of origin, Thailand Province, Greater China. She was a tiny little thing; I doubt she'd even come up to my chin but she was definitely well proportioned, I can tell you that! Her uniform left no doubt she was female although compared to the servers she was almost overdressed. Their uniforms, or costumes more accurately, brought two words to mind: dental floss. Okay, they brought a lot more to mind than just those two words but other than saying they were eye candy we'll just leave it at that. Besides I had all the eye candy I needed right there at the bar.