Vastoria: The Sky Tower

Chapter Three

"I heard what happened."

Eddie tapped at the information tablet in his hands. He stood behind the front desk of the lobby where I sat.

By all accounts, it wasn't the sort of place you'd picture when you thought of a whore house. It was clean, and there weren't half-naked women walking around. Eddie had certain standards. He believed that a respectable establishment bred a respectable business. People would come here more if they knew they were getting something worth their time and money, and not the same gutter trash that was outside.

Prostitution was still around, but it was different from what we did.

We were companions, for lack of a better word. Men called us whatever they wanted to, but Eddie called us his ladies. Although the laws have changed and prostitution has come a long way, there would always be a hierarchy when it came to sex and money.

He wasn't a traditional pimp. He was all about respect. You give him respect and he'll return it. Even if we didn't give him respect, he didn't beat us or treat us poorly. That's what made us different from the prostitutes. Everything was mutual.

That's what I liked about him. In many ways we were the same. I wished that my father could have handled the New World as well as Eddie did.

"It wasn't really home anymore," I replied at length and folded one leg over the other.

I tried to keep myself well kempt. Eddie said I was a favourite around here. I'm sure it had to do with my meticulous need to be clean, and when it came to make-up, I skipped most things except the mascara.

Eddie looked me over, and I shrugged at him. My gold-colored earrings touched my shoulders. They were once my mothers, but they weren't worth a dime. Five lengths of gold connected to the hook that hung from the hole in my ear. They were my favourite.

"It's going to be slow tonight. Did you see the balloon yesterday?"

I nodded, looking across the lobby toward the lounge. There were three men inside, drinking, watching the broadcasts on the televisions.

"No soldiers?"

"No, just a few surveyors from the capitol."

"I'll take whatever, you know that," I said, and pulled down the hem of my black skirt before I leaned down and worked on the laces of my knee high boots. This allowed my two necklaces to dangle, slipping from the cleavage of my breasts. My shirt was tight, it was best to show off what you had, even with clothing on. I wasn't the smallest girl here, as far as height went. I was just over five foot seven, so I normally left my hair down.

Eddie had commented on my hair plenty of times. It was that dark color between coffee and ink. When I was a little girl it had been honey-brown, but dad said the smog turned it dark. That was just pessimism. My mother had black hair, and she'd grown up with the sun.

"You sure you don't want the night off?" Eddie looked over at me with his dark eyes. His auburn colored skin was wrinkled, aged, but it was his eyes that had strength and youth in them still.

I shook my head, and stood from my seat. "No, I'll be fine. I barely hit my head," I motioned with my hand toward my temple. The purple bruise was covered mostly by hair. The cut had been nasty, nearly infected, but there were still supplies left in the hospital to mend small wounds.

The rich had their Medi-Pads, and their Mendex creams. Cellular repair research hit groundbreaking results a few years back.

Unfortunately, as times changed and the rich became dominant, so too did the market. The only thing we poor people could afford, as far as new tech went, was CoreTech's welfare Net package. For low monthly fees any prostitute and factory worker could get jacked in and join the rest of the world in the sky.

Thanks to the piss-poor quality of the jacking unit, those poor folk suffered substantial damages when they released their last firmware. To make up for it they've given those who haven't died an upgrade to the newest model for a large discount.

It was a shame that the percentage of customers who suffered brain damage would be able to understand any of that. I doubt that they even know how to jack-in anymore.

"If you say so," Eddie said, cutting through my thoughts. He set the tablet down on the lobby desk and grabbed a key from the wall.

There were seven of us, so far. Sometimes Eddie took in prostitutes, to give them better work than they'd find outside. He wasn't one for charity, but if they were pretty enough, they were worth the risk. All of the money we made went to him, but once a week we'd get our share.

"Have you seen Delilah?" I asked, and leaned against the tall oak desk. My gaze swept over the terminal where the bulk of his filing was done, to the tablet. A profile was on the screen. All of the clients here had to provide background information.

"Isn't that...?" I started.

"Delilah isn't feeling well; she's been out for a week now. I don't know if she's coming back."

It sounded just like before. One of the girls, Katherine, fell ill and she never came back.

I could have looked for her, just like I could go and find where Delilah is staying...but I'm not looking for answers. I was never curious enough. That's why my mother kept pushing me to be more.

At least she isn't here to see me now.

Eddie passed the key over to me. It would unlock one of the rooms upstairs. Today was slow, that meant that I'd have somewhere to sleep, unless I had business to get done.

"I'll send the next one to you."

"Aw, thanks Eddie, you always look out for me," I said with a quirk of my lips. It wasn't like I wanted this life. It wasn't that I loved it.

He knew that; he was the only one that did.