Chapter Eleven

Ari stretched across the bed, tensing as his fingers met nothing more than cold sheets. He cast about the room for any sign of Orin but it was as though he had never been there, everything neatly in its place. Ari’s clothing had been carefully folded and stacked next to his boots near the door.

He blushed to think of Orin folding his underthings and then blushed harder when he considered exactly why that was the height of foolishness.

A muffled thud and clanking sounds came through the door, and Ari hurried to get dressed enough to investigate. He poked his head through the door to squint into the corridor in his shirtsleeves and trousers, stocking feet peeking out beneath.

The muted sounds were coming from his lab.

Ari slapped the entry panel and peered warily through the door to find his pilot had pried open a random selection of the cabinet panels built into the wall, rummaging inelegantly through his lab supplies.

Ari’s hackles rose as he drew himself to his full height before rushing to halt the desecration of his inner sanctum.

“Just what do you think you are doing?” he demanded in a tone that was completely authoritative and not at all shrill.

Orin tossed an unconcerned smile over his shoulder, holding meticulously labeled parcels of laboratory equipment in each enormous fist.

“You keep your med supplies in here, right, professor?”

Ari nodded, mouth working around words that refused to manifest beyond an indignant squeak as Orin shoved the parcels back into the cabinet before yanking open the next panel.

Ari shoved past his broad shoulders and plastered himself with arms spread wide against the once sacred wall of lab storage.

“Stop this at once!”

Orin cocked one eyebrow at him before reaching nonchalantly over Ari’s head to pop open another storage panel and pick through the contents with absolutely no concern for Aristotle’s organizational systems.

Ari reached up and wrapped his fingers around one thick wrist, ignoring the odd tingle in his stomach as both of his hands were required to complete the circumference. He looked up at Orin, eyelids fluttering with dismay.

“Please.”

Orin’s mouth slid open, staring down at Ari as he hung stubbornly from his wrist. An unexpected wash of color spread across the crest of his stubbled cheeks before he lowered his arm and took a step back, clearing his throat.

“I’m just searching for your jabs, assumed you’d have the deluxe set somewhere on board. You seem the type to be overprepared.”

Ari released his grip at the roll of muscle beneath his fingertips, glancing down to watch Orin clench and release his hand restlessly against his thigh. Ari then turned to begin setting things to rights, resigning himself to reserving time in his lab schedule for a complete reorganization. He gestured to the panel closest to the doorway on their right.

“The med kit and any other medical supplies are stored in there. I suppose I should have informed you of their whereabouts in case of emergency.”

He whirled in place at a sudden thought. “Are you injured again? Do you need my assistance?”

Orin had already turned his back to continue rummaging through the med supply panel. He shook his head distractedly. “Nah. I’m right as rain, myself. Just on the hunt for—ah!—these.”

He displayed the deluxe hypodermic injection kit Ari had purchased at the ship supply when he and Theo had first begun outfitting the ship for exploration.

Ari pushed his lips to the side in confusion. “Why do you need emergency jabs? You’re not up to date on yours? We could visit a physician when we make landfall.”

Orin shook his head, wrestling the package open. “Don’t you worry about me, sugar. I’m all up to date. Fit as a damned fiddle.” He inspected each syringe before dropping them into a soft leather bag attached to his hip.

He then held up four matching syringes with a triumphant grin, each one standing proudly from between his fingers as though displaying a clever card trick.

“Now these are what we’ll be needing, where we’re going.”

Ari squinted at the jabs, shock running through him at the label. “Those are for the prevention of sexually transmitted diseases.”

Orin dropped them in his bag and pointed both index fingers at Ari. “Bingo, professor!”

He turned and walked down the corridor, his off-tune whistling ringing against the metal panels.

Ari hurriedly shut the med supply cabinet panel and followed on his heels.

“Why do you think we would need… Wait, where are we going?”

*

The settlement was as different from Sally’s little town as it was from Britannia. Same artificial atmo sky and manufactured rust dirt roads, but there the resemblance ended.

The streets teemed with life, scores of people hurrying by or loudly haggling at the rust-dappled market stands crammed right on top of one another in the narrow space between buildings.

The buildings rose up to three stories high, their wooden siding and metal roofing lending an air of cohesiveness to the architecture. Large metal signs proclaimed a variety of shops and trades.

Ari squinted at a sign that was either painted with a coiled snake or a length of rope, trying to determine which it could be and what might be found inside.

“Keep up, Red! Slower than a cart with three busted wheels, I swear.”

Orin’s voice cut through the crowd ahead, and Ari scurried to catch up, bobbing his head at a passing lady who blew him a kiss in response, giggling and twirling her patchwork parasol.

He caught up to Orin quickly, suspecting the pilot had shortened his stride so he could do so. Ari resisted the urge to reach for his arm as though he were being escorted through the park back home.

Their arms bumped together, and Orin looked down, cocking his eyebrow and bending his elbow in Ari’s direction as if he’d read his mind. Ari studied the ground and shoved his hands in his pockets. Orin seemed to hesitate before dropping his arm and picking up the pace once again.

He cut through the crowded street effortlessly despite his size, smooth as a fish through a stream. Ari envied his ease, having felt wrong-footed from the moment they stepped out onto the busy dock.

Orin hopped up the steps of one of the taller buildings which bore no sign, Ari following at a more respectable climb. The corrugated roofing over the porch had rusted through in large enough spots that hints of green sky shone through.

Orin knocked on the door sharply three times before turning back to Ari.

“Almost guaranteed to hear a good song in this house, professor.”

A tightly corseted woman opened the door and scanned the pair of them suspiciously before her face lit with joy as she flung her naked arms around Orin’s neck. Orin responded in kind, lifting her off the ground with a booming laugh.

Ari attempted not to stare at the fact that the woman was standing on her porch in broad daylight wearing nothing but several layers of ruffled undergarments beneath her exposed blue corset.

She was still laughing as she backed into the house, throwing her elaborately braided black hair over her shoulder. “Come on in, boys! Can’t tell you how much we missed you round these parts, Orin Stone!”

Orin guided Ari inside with a firm hand against his lower back. “And I’m pleased as punch to see you, Miss Violet. Been too long. How’s your sister? Last I was here, she was feeling poorly as I recall.”

Miss Violet’s smile emphasized the cracking ruby paint on her mahogany cheeks. Flecks of gold glitter loosened and peeled away as she spoke. “She’s doing much better, thanks to you, darling.”

Orin nodded, keeping his hand pressed to Ari’s back. “Glad to hear it. Who’s on today?”

Miss Violet’s eyes cut to Ari and back up to Orin before she turned and led the way through heavily fringed crimson curtains into a large parlor. The room held an upright piano with a distinct leftward lean and various poly-brocade chaise longues. She gestured at the dozen half-naked people assembled on them.

“Got some new faces on today, like to give ’em the day shift ’til they get accustomed to the art of entertaining. You probably remember Gladys though.”

She pointed at a petite girl spilling out of her corset, with hair brighter than Ari’s but in a distinctly artificial hue, curled up and bored to tears on one of the lounges.

Orin’s lips kicked up at the corner. “Sure do, Miss Violet. Real nice girl, Gladys. Listen, any chance you heard a singer goes by the name of Hinge?”

Miss Violet stepped back, planting one hand on the curve of her hip. “You must need a song real bad if you’re willing to listen to that weasel. Jeanie’s got him upstairs, you’ll have to wait ’til he’s done with his appointment. Be done in a half hour, man’s real punctual.”

Orin smirked at that, taking his hand from Ari’s back to remove the leather pouch from his belt. “We sure would appreciate it if you could send him our way. I got something for you, courtesy of the professor here. I know times are hard.”

He held out the bag to Miss Violet who took it with a caution, both eyes and lips widening as she looked inside.

Her gaze shot back up to Orin, glittering to better effect that the flakes on her cheeks.

“Why, you’re an angel. An honest angel. My stars, but we needed these. Local sawbones cleared town near three weeks past. Some of my new faces been riding on a prayer.”

Orin cupped her shoulder with one big hand, squeezing affectionately. “Next time that happens, you buzz my com. I’ll get you fixed up soon as I can.”

Miss Violet placed her hand over Orin’s, multicolored bangles clinking musically. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Orin dropped his hand to his pocket and pulled out a paper-wrapped parcel.

“Brought something for the little ones too. Just a pack of fizzy pops. How many y’all got in the house now?”

Miss Violet took the parcel gladly, tucking it down the front of her corset as Ari stared resolutely at the wall over her head.

“Got four underfoot now that Eben is gone apprenticing. All but the baby are down at the schoolhouse.”

Orin’s face lit brighter than the electric candles flickering along the walls. “Good, that’s real good. Get all those books in their heads, give ’em all a fighting chance.”

Miss Violet’s answering smile had an edge to it. “I’m gonna make damn sure not one of ’em ends up working for me, darling. That’s a promise.”

Ari edged closer to Orin as a young man approached from across the parlor, watching Ari from beneath gold-painted lids. Ari gasped quietly as he was wearing even less than Miss Violet, his small rouged nipples peeking out over a short gold corset.

Orin glanced up, intercepting the seductive pout Ari was receiving. With a chuckle, he turned back to Miss Violet, slinging his arm around Ari’s waist. The young man slinked back to his chaise with a sigh. Orin pulled Ari in close as Ari clutched at his arm.

“Got somewhere quiet we can wait it out? My partner ain’t exactly used to being entertained.”

Miss Violet scanned Ari from head to toe, dancing eyes catching on Orin’s arm around his waist.

“Why don’t you head on back to Gladys’ room? She’s about to take her break. I’ll be sure to send the weasel up soon as I can.”

Orin thanked her with a nod, arm keeping Ari close as he led them to the narrow staircase rising up through the entryway. They climbed into an even narrower hallway, passing three doors before entering one that, as far as Ari could tell, was entirely indistinguishable from the others.

Orin released his grip on Ari to close the door behind them and scanned the room before walking to a set of shelves set into the wall beside the fireplace.

Ari nervously took in their surroundings, cataloguing the draped bed and pair of chairs set beside a small table as the only furniture. A single window let in enough light that he didn’t need to hit the panel to the gold-painted sconces.

Ari chewed on his lip, bursting with questions and entirely unsure whether any of them might be well received. He chose the detail that stuck out to him as most unexpected.

“How did you know there would be children here?”

Orin scratched at his elbow, busily searching the shelves in front of them.

“There’s always children in a bawdy house. Byproduct of the business.”

The glance he tossed over his shoulder was brittle around the edges. He continued on as he reached up to shuffle a few bottles aside on the middle shelf.

“No matter how hard folks work to prevent it. Most of the time, the little ones that make themselves useful get to stick around for a while.”

Ari’s blood ran cold. “Useful?”

Orin shook his head slowly, fingers wrapped around a dusty blue bottle he carefully lifted from the shelf, easing the others back into place.

“Not like that. At least, not here.”

His eyes grew distant before he gave his head another small shake. He held the bottle aloft as he indicated the rickety wooden table with a jerk of his chin.

“Bawdy house kids can keep a roof over their head if they’ve got a talent for something like sneaking through pockets, or if they’re built like a solid steel engine block like I was. Then they can work security. No grown man expects to be thrown out on his ass by a kid. Learned from a tender age how to thrive on the element of surprise.”

All the other questions fell out of Ari’s head as he sank into one of the spindly legged chairs.

“You were raised in a place like this?”

Orin threw his head back to take a swig from the bottle before pushing it across the table to Aristotle.

“Mmm, wouldn’t say I was raised. People don’t raise weeds that sprout up where they aren’t wanted. Not like they’d raise a sweet little flower such as yourself.”

Ari sipped from the bottle, forcing himself to swallow the burning liquid, tears welling over from the effort.

Orin swiped the bottle from his hand, muscled the stopper back down the neck, and set it on the floor beneath his chair.

“Might say I grew up in a place like this. Well, not exactly like this.” He gestured at the moth-eaten draperies and heavy crimson bedclothes. “This place has boards on the floors and fripperies on the windows. This is much more of an upscale establishment than we had back home. Still, seems I grew up alright. Last I checked I was full grown, at least.”

He lifted his right arm to flex and wink at Ari, who was momentarily distracted by the bulging bicep on display before a distant moan reminded him of exactly where they were sitting.

“Though it does seem to shed light on your distinctive vocabulary, I admit to some surprise that you spent your formative years in a—” His voice dropped to a scandalized whisper. “—house of pleasure.”

Orin’s brow grew two vertical lines, his gaze directed inward. “Wouldn’t say that either. Not much pleasure to be had in a place like this, not for the folks that live here. Certainly not where I come from.”

Aristotle leaned forward with keen interest. “Where exactly do you come from? I know you grew up on the Verge, but I still don’t know which settlement.”

Orin’s chair legs scraped back across the floor, knocking the bottle over to roll with a dull thunk against the cold brick of the hearth. He patted his spread knees, practiced smirk firmly in place.

“Enough talk, sweetheart. Why don’t you come over here, and we can make better use of our time? Wouldn’t touch those sheets with a borrowed stick, but there’s plenty of room for you right here.”

He hooked his thumb behind the button placket of his trousers before trailing the other hand suggestively down his thigh.

Ari ignored the gesture, focused on Orin’s face. The pilot appeared a study in relaxation, face pulled into a casual smirk. He was posed just as he had been when Aristotle had approached him a week before in the saloon, every inch of him entirely confident and without a care.

Ari was surprised by his ability to see the act for what it was.