The Trails of Life 11

Chapter 11

Final surprises, good and bad..

Phoebe disturbed me in the middle of the night when she used the toilet, but it was Lola who woke first when the alarm went off. While Phoebe stayed in bed, both of us got up and headed for the bathroom.

While she used the toilet, I brushed my teeth, my mind full of the tasks that lay ahead of me; the first being to send off message vids to my boss, Jem and my family, telling them I was fine and on my way home as soon as I could arrange my ticket.

That was the second thing: Going to the space port and booking myself on the first ship home. Then, provided I had the time before the ship left, I was going to book myself a hotel room and get drunk.

Lola joined me at the sink as I rinsed my mouth out, and then it was my turn to use the toilet. While I was using it, Phoebe wandered in and looked around before walking over to the shower.

Lola joined her as I flushed, and seconds later they welcomed me in. As Lola grabbed the shower wash, Phoebe spoke. "Be careful, I feel a little tender down there."

"But did you enjoy it?" Lola joked, starting on her shoulders.

"More than any of the other nights. I know I should be grateful I had this week, but I wish it could have been a month. That would have been a decent holiday," she replied.

Lola laughed as she passed me the bottle. "I'd almost volunteer to spend another three weeks here with you."

Phoebe looked at me as I took the soap. "Honestly," I said looking her in the eye. "I've got a life to put back together. I've been looking forward to my freedom for two months, already. Sorry. In consolation, I will say this has been the best week of my sentence, and if we met in normal life I could fall in love with you," I ended apologetically.

She'd looked away long before I finished, while Lola scowled at me.

I shrugged my shoulders and squeezed some soap into my hand as I moved to do her back. I hoped she didn't feel for me the way I felt for Rachel. I rationalised I was being cruel to be kind, serving her a dose of disappointment that would cloud the better memories till I was gone.

I washed her back, guiltily trying to soften the blow I'd given by tenderly caressing her skin in all the right places as I worked my way down. When we were finished, Phoebe left us to wash ourselves as she returned to the bedroom.

"That was a bit mean," Lola scolded as the door shut behind Phoebe.

"It wasn't really meant to be. Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed this week and I didn't want to spoil it—"

"But you did!" she interrupted.

"In a way, yes. But I don't want her pining for us like some lovesick puppy. She'll have lots of happy memories to take away from here. What I don't want is for her to stay emotionally entangled with us, or me in particular."

"You're way too late for that. I bet if you asked her she'd run away home with you."

"I've got a girlfriend already. I've been living with her for the past two years. Lovely as Phoebe is, she'd be like a fish out of water, trying to live my life."

"She's a lot stronger than you think. A little hardship wouldn't stop her loving you."

"Perhaps not, but what really matters there is, I'm not in love with her, someone else..." Rachel loomed large in my mind. "...has taken my heart."

She gave a little shake of her head. "Well, it's your life. She'd make you a good wife. I hope Melanie is as loyal to me as you are to your love."

I stayed silent as Lola stepped back out of the spray and began to lather herself. I took the bottle when she stooped to set it down and squirted some into my hand. We grabbed towels on the way out and found Phoebe sitting, sill naked, brushing her hair in front of the vanity mirror.

Lola went over to her as I finished drying myself. As Lola took over brushing her hair, Phoebe ordered breakfast from her pad. I dressed and picked up my towel, then walked over to the pair of them.

I used my towel to dry Lola's back, my brusque strokes continuing as I bent to do her arse and legs. I left the towel around Lola's neck and took mine to the laundry chute before wandering into the lounge to wait for breakfast to be delivered.

Their high pitched squeals caught my attention. Moments later, the door opened and Lola stuck her head through to call, "Come look at this."

My curiosity aroused, I got up as she withdrew her head and walked through. Phoebe was holding up the cast of my cock we'd made last night. Her face was a picture of delight as she proudly held it out for me to inspect.

It looked like shiny white plastic, but I could see the detail in it, the ridges of my veins and the little wrinkles where my foreskin joined my shaft. Up close, it looked bigger than I thought it was, giving my ego a boost.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" she asked bubbling over.

"It looks...impressive," I answered, fumbling for an appropriate word.

"And, she's got the mould for another when she wears it out," Lola chipped in.

I saw Phoebe blush for the first time, her cheeks shading pink to red under her almond skin.

"You should ask her for one for yourself. Be a good piece of object d'art for a coffee table," I joked, turning the focus on Lola.

Breakfast being announced broke the conversation before Lola could reply. The two of them, still unclothed but with Lola carrying hers, walked with me as we moved through into the lounge.

By accident or design, Phoebe put the cast on the table and turned the TV on as we sat down to the coffee, buttered toast and scrambled eggs. I ate my fill and sat back with the drink while they finished theirs.

With an hour left before we were due back, Phoebe got the message that the taxi was here. Phoebe gave the both of us hugs and favoured me with a kiss as we got to her door, looking around it to watch as we walked off down the passageway.

We travelled together on the familiar ride into the city. I couldn't quite call this episode of my life closed till I walked out of the justice department a free man, but the excitement built in me as we trundled onwards to our destination.

Lola and I travelled the same path through the building till the metallic voice directed us different ways in the last corridor. I didn't know whether they'd take my clothes this time, seeing I was headed for release.

I hoped my own clothes and luggage was waiting for me when they checked me out. Otherwise, I'd have to use these to get to the hotel and pick them up there. My pad as well: It would be 'extra fun' if I had to get another and try and remember all my passwords.

It took a few seconds for the guard to appear through the door behind the wide counter. "Here," he said, handing me a small wand." "Put the tip on the clasp of your collar."

I stretched to take it, then turned the collar till the clasp was under my chin. I guided the tip with my other hand and then grasped one end as it sprang apart. He held out his hand and I gave him the collar and the wand.

A little section of the counter slid open and he put the collar in there. There must have been a screen I couldn't see, because I saw his eyes tracking lines of text or something before her looked back up at me.

"You're clear. Give me your wrist."

I stretched my arm over, my pulse racing as he took it and reactivated my ID chip.

"You can collect your property in the next room," he said, dismissing me and turning back to the door he came through. The door to my right dilated, and with my heart soaring, I walked through it.

I was glad. The thrill of walking those first few steps without a collar around my neck was a joyous moment; so delicious, it sent a shiver through me when I thought about it.

As I waited, I wondered how Lola was doing; if we were both being processed at the same speed, we could both find ourselves released back into the big bad world together. That might make for an awkward goodbye.

I felt delighted when the guard asked me for my ID, swinging my wrist over his reader with a grin on my face. It beeped, and he pressed a button. A screen in the desk lit up, and I saw an upside down list appear.

He glanced down it, then swiped his finger over the screen to spin it to me. The top of the list was my suitcase and its contents; at the bottom, my pad and its carry case.

"Do I sign?" I asked, trusting it was complete.

"No, he replied. "It'll come out of that hatch there." he indicated a square outline at the other end of the counter.

"Thanks, that's it?"

"No. You can buy your video if you want."

"My video?" I queried.

"Yes the one from the cameras in your collar. Keep it as a souvenir or use it to start a suit against one of your owners."

Rachel sprang to mind and I was speaking the words before I thought them. "I'll take the first week if that's possible."

He tapped his pad. "That's gone," he said in a matter of fact manner.

"Gone?"

"Yes, that and week nine are not on the list."

"Oh," I said.

I wasn't surprised at Hilly's efficiency in claiming Phoebe's exploits. But Rachel, if it was her, buying hers amazed and intrigued me. None of the others interested me. I'd just as soon forget the whole thing.

"No thanks, then. I have enough memories of the others."

"When you get your luggage, you go through that door..." He glanced at the one next to the hatch. "...into the waiting room, and you'll be released with the rest at eight thirty."

I nodded.

"Good luck," he said cheerily, then turned and left, leaving me waiting not so impatiently for my bags.

I couldn't resist taking a peek through the door as I waited, and I saw one or two scattered people sitting watching the news in a brightly lit room. I heard the hatch rumble open, and my bags were half ejected by the rollers. I eagerly picked them up and strolled through into the waiting room.

The clock on the screen read eight o' clock, and after a look around to see if Lola was already there, I laid my suitcase down on the floor and opened it. I brought out the last of my fresh clothes and underwear, and scooted off to the toilet to change.

Feeling a lot better, dressed in my own clothes, I packed away the shirt and shorts and settled down next to my bag to watch the news and wait for my release. Ten minutes later, Lola came through a door dressed in a tight tank top and a short skirt with her old clothes bundled under her arm.

She saw me, but went and sat with the only other girl in the room. It didn't matter much; we had nothing much left to talk about and only our experiences in common. A couple more men joined us as I watched the clock count down.

At the appointed time, a door slid back in the far wall and I sprang to my feet, towing my bag after me as I made my way to the exit. Lola made it out in front of me, and when I passed through the door I saw her embracing Melanie.

I walked the other way with a spring in my step, now that I was finally free. Outside, I took a taxi to the spaceport and found the old money band in with my pad as I brought it out to start composing my first video message; a simple one to my family back home telling them I was, as they could see, well, and would be on the first ship I could book passage on.

Then the one to my boss, telling him my side of the story, and that I'd call him as soon as I got home. By the time I'd finished that, we were approaching the spaceport and I turned off the mail program and called up the file with my return ticket in it.

The concourse was crowded and I walked nearly half of it as I followed the map to the spaceline desk. "Good morning, how can I help you?" she asked pleasantly as I got to the counter."

"I'd like to re-book my ticket to Terra Incognito, please."

"Certainly. May I have your details?"

I brought my electronic ticket up and sent her a copy. While she checked it, I looked up at the schedule and saw that the next trip was nine o' clock tomorrow morning.

"I'm sorry sir, this is out of date. You have seven days to claim. This is over seven weeks."

"I know. I got caught up in the justice system here through no fault of my own. Is there nothing you can do?"

"I can sell you a new one," she said brightly.

"How much?"

"Sixteen hundred credits, comfort class."

"I don't have that much on my pre-paid. Would you accept a draft on my bank back home?"

"I'm sorry sir, I can only process cash payments," she replied, sounding sympathetic.

"What about the other spacelines? Any of them do cheap flights?"

"Ah, I'm afraid we have an exclusive on direct flights. You'd have to go through the independents and station-hop your way home. I'm afraid that'll probably be just as expensive."

"So, it looks like I'm stuck here till I can find more money," I said, more to myself than her.

She bent forward and beckoned me closer, "Don't ask for repatriation. They'll make you work it off. Your best bet for quick money is to get yourself a yellow collar," she whispered.

"Thanks," I replied as she straightened and gave me a little nod.

I smiled back, amused by the irony of her advice; renting myself out and taking pot luck with another mistress. There had to be another way. She stood there waiting for me to say something. I gave her a couple of slow nods and turned to leave.

I still had my messages to send, except the news wouldn't be as good. I'd have to amend the ones I'd recorded and add an instruction to Jem's, to add more money to my account. She'd have to go to the bank to get the extra credit forwarded here.

I wandered over to some seats to take a moment and think things through. I had four hundred in my account; more than enough to wait out the few days it would take for the money transfer to come through.

The best thing now would be to find an inexpensive hotel and stay there. I got out my pad and did a search for a cheap accommodation, and was disappointed to find that the cheapest at the spaceport was seventy five a night.

Broadening my search, I found hostels in the city for twenty five to thirty five a night, bed only. It was not an option I would pick willingly, but with the state of my finances I couldn't be choosy.

I used the Taxi ride back to compose fresh messages to my boss and family. I would have asked my boss for the ticket money, except I could picture him reading the message and tutting as he slowly shook his head.

I knew what his reply would be, I could even hear him repeating it. "You youngsters have got to learn to stand on your own two feet." He'd started from nothing and was a firm believer in 'pulling yourself up by your bootstraps'.

My message to Jem was a request for her to top up the prepaid account on my pad. I also told her how much I missed her and couldn't wait to get back. I also added, as I had with my messages to my boss and family, my version of what had happened at the villa.

The hostel was an unimpressive four-story building set in an industrial park. I booked in for an initial three days and used their uplink to send my messages off on their first stage of the journey home.

The room was half a meter wider than the bunk bed and nearly a meter longer, with a chest of draws crammed in behind the door. I dropped my suitcase there and went to the bar for a much-needed drink.

The only other customer was an old man who was nursing his drink, sitting by one of the windows. I sat on the barstool and ordered rum and a beer chaser. Now all I had to do find something to fill my time while I waited for the replies.

"New here?" asked the barman.

"Kind off, yes. I'm waiting for a flight home."

"Oh, you're not applying for residency, then?"

"No, I've had my fill of the place. Give me the quiet life back on Terra any day."

"Lost your money on the tables, eh? Cashed in your ticket to win it back," he said, as if it was a familiar story. "I know one or two places pay cash in hand."

"I'm waiting on funds from home," I answered. "But, thanks anyway."

"Ah...The bank of mum and dad."

"No, a fiancé and a joint bank account."

"Well, the offer's there if you change your mind. Escort work for some of the hotels."

"Ha, knowing my luck, I'd end up with the frumpy one with bad breath and hairy armpits."

He chuckled. "Well, you can't expect a Princess or TriVee star."

I gave my own chuckle. "I'm looking for an Heiress."

"Aren't we all," he came back.

I nodded and picked up my rum to take a sip. He moved off down the bar, leaving me to my thoughts. My messages were now being routed through the wormholes, piggy backing on the ships till they reached my home world. With luck, they'd be in their inboxes by this time tomorrow.

I took a longer drink of my beer and turned my thoughts to how I was going to pass the time. Sightseeing was free, which made it a favourite. Trouble was, not many of the sights left to see interested me.

The beach appealed to me. I could swim and sunbathe most of the day there. If the food was expensive, I could fill up when I ate here. Thinking of food, my tummy reminded me that it had been a long time since breakfast.

I swallowed off the rum and took a large gulp of the beer. Standing, I looked to the barman. "Where's the restaurant?"

"Out the door and turn left. There's a pair of double doors at the bottom. It's robot service, so just take a table," he answered.

"Thanks," I called back.

I followed his directions and found myself in a bright room with glass walls on either side. There were a few customers scattered around, and I chose one of the empty window tables.

The robot was beside me as I sat down, its top folding open to display a menu on a screen. It waited as I scrolled through its meagre list. I chose the vat-grown steak and fresh cut chips with a portion of peas, along with a coffee.

As soon as I paid it, the robot trundled off and I sat back and had a look around. There was a square of grass surrounded by a flower bed outside, a bright spot against the drab grey of the adjacent building.

The end walls both had large screens playing some news channel which, no doubt, was linked to the cone speaker in the centre of the table. I touched the button on the top, and the muted tones of the newsreader came out.

He was talking about some jewel robbery, but the ticker on the bottom was what caught my eye. One of the items was about a new trade treaty with Polydeuces. The real reason Hilly had been here, it would seem.

I turned the speaker off when the robot came back carrying my food. The steak was okay for taste and flavour and I enjoyed my first taste of chips in months. It didn't take me long to polish it off.

As I sat there finishing my coffee, I fished my pad out to look up the name of the beach. As I did, the money band fell out and I absentmindedly slipped it onto my wrist when I leant over to pick it up.

There was only one lake local, and I made a mental note of the place we visited, The Tropicana Beach Resort, before turning the pad off and putting it away again. I finished my coffee and made my way back to my room to collect a towel.

I had my pad out again to call a taxi as I walked out through the reception lobby. Being a bit off the beaten track, it took five minutes for it to come and whisk me away for my afternoon on the beach.

When I got back to the hostel, I headed straight for the restaurant, checking with the menu again before ordering something else I hadn't eaten in a while; fish pie. I had a surprise when I paid for it.

"Do you wish me to debit your international credits or the Ringworld ones?" it asked.

"Ringworld credits?" I queried, puzzled for a second.

Even as I said it, I realised that my money band was still active. The eight thousand credits I thought were time limited were still there. My pulse quickened at the thought of having enough money to take me home. If I hadn't just paid for my meal, I'd be on my way to the space port, now.