“Here it is, the new district that the whole world envies us.
Soho, Pigalle, Saint Pauli, Forty-second Street? Much more than that!
The President wanted to build a nice,
bustling neighborhood for his subjects: Caligula Two. […]
The Japanese sin districts, especially the Kabuki-cho in Tokyo, are inspired by it.
They always copied from us, but this time we copied from them.
Indeed, we overcame them. They couldn’t even imagine
something like The Palace of Nine Wonders”.
(Stefano Benni, L’Ultima Lacrima, Il Palazzo delle Nove Meraviglie,
Feltrinelli Editore, Milano 1994, p. 103).
New Xanadu, coordinates 000.000/000.000/000.000
June 29th, 666 GE
A couple of hours later, they were aboard an underground train, gliding at nearly five thousand kilometers per hour toward the eighteenth parallel north of the forty-first sector. It was late at night, and apart from a pair of drunken cthorrs, they were the only occupants of the car.
Kyle pocketed the datapad.
“It’s all settled,” he announced. “I even booked a takeoff slot for 08:00 tomorrow—standard time of the thirty-eighth sector.” He glanced up, tone casual. “By the way… what are we supposed to do with two hundred kilos of living bugs in cryogenic solution?”
“Look, Captain,” Twiglet said, as if addressing a particularly slow schoolboy, “I’ve already told you. I can’t feed for three weeks on disgusting dead things like a human. Mahjitans need fresh food—so fresh we can feel it slipping out from under our teeth… Is that clear?”
“Okay, don’t take it badly! I just wanted to make sure I ordered the right thing. And what about Big Guy? Any special needs?”
“Yesss… I love meath!” Uful’lan grinned, baring a row of pointed fangs. “Human meath.”
“K’rells, on the other hand, aren’t even good as bait,” Kyle shot back.
“One of thhese dayss, I’m going tho rip off your head. Wanna beth?”
“Aha! And who’s going to take you to the Halo then? You, Big Guy?”
“Why noth?” Uful’lan shrugged. “We could renth a sshutthle. During thhe war, I wass on a cruisser and—”
“Oh really? Tell me—were you a kitchen boy or a latrine-washer?”
“Do stop it!” Twiglet snapped. “We’re all nervous and tired, but that’s no reason to keep teasing each other. We’ll be together for weeks—so we’d better get along.”
Shirl wasn’t paying attention to the bickering. Since the misadventure in cyberspace, she’d spoken only in monosyllables and spent most of her time staring into space.
“Hey,” Kyle asked gently, putting an arm around her shoulders, “are you okay?”
She flinched and turned red.
“I… was wondering… when are we getting there?”
“Well, we passed the seventeenth parallel, so it should be the next stop. Right, Twiglet?”
“Ten more minutes. Then we take the elevator to the first level, and a robocab to the Nine Wonders.”
“First level?” Kyle whistled. “These secret agents live like lords! Still… Nine Wonders… The name sounds familiar.”
“That’s Odie Binx’s workplace.”
“At 03:45 local time?” Kyle checked his wristwatch. “What kind of job is that?”
“I’ve no idea. He joined the Society recently. I’ve never even met him.”
“Is he human?” Uful’lan asked.
“No clue. All I have is his name and address.”
“Nine Wonders…” Kyle repeated, trying to jog his memory. “I swear I’ve heard that name before…”
“A brothel?” Twiglet was stunned.
Still, there was no doubt this was the right place. They’d gotten out of the robocab in front of a cylindrical, eye-catching building, where a giant red and yellow neon sign promised:
THE NINE WONDERS OF SEX!
Boys, Girls & Intersex of All Species!
Shows! Strips! S&M! Voyeur! Cybersex!
Open All Night!
Despite the late hour—almost four in the morning—crowded elevators zipped up and down the outer walls, while orbital shuttles landed on rooftop platforms. Throngs of tourists, most drunk, arrived by taxi from nearby clubs or sub-level stations.
“That’s why the name sounded so familiar!” Kyle said, snapping his fingers. “The Nine Wonders is one of New Xanadu’s best brothels. I must’ve been here at least a few times as a cadet.”
“I can’t believe it…” Twiglet muttered, caught somewhere between shock and confusion. “A Holroyd agent working in a brothel? There must be a mistake.”
“Oh, come on. What’s the big deal? I grew up in a place like this…” Realizing Twiglet and Uful’lan were staring at him oddly, Kyle added, “Well—I mean—my mother used to run one. Back on Achernar. It’s a job, after all.”
“Let’s go,” Twiglet cut in. “We have no choice.”
Together, they crossed the main entrance and entered a lobby with a mirrored floor and pleasantly ambient music. Customers lounged on plush sofas, browsing the attractions holo-menu. At the center stood a long reception counter, gleaming like the Imperial yacht.
“I’ll take care of this,” Twiglet said. “Just wait here.”
She marched toward the front desk.
“Hey! Over here!” she called, standing on tiptoe.
A long, arched neck extended forward, ending in a gleaming, blue-toned head.
“How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for a friend—Odie Binx. He works here. Could you call him, please?”
“I’m sorry, sir. Our employees aren’t allowed to meet friends or relatives during work hours.”
The tone was polite but firm. For the sake of the mission, Twiglet swallowed her annoyance at the “sir.”
“Please, it’s an emergency.”
“I don’t doubt that, but our rules are clear. If you’d like, you can leave him a message. He’ll see it when he’s allowed to turn on his datapad.”
“Hmph! And when would that be?”
“In about four hours,” the droid replied impassively. “At the end of his shift.”
Four hours.
She quickly calculated: Kyle had booked their departure for 08:00—thirty-eighth sector time. They’d miss their takeoff slot if they waited for Odie Binx to finish his shift. That would mean a delay of several hours… which they couldn’t afford. Not with werewolves after them.
“Could I at least call him? To tell him I’m here?”
“No, sir. I’m truly sorry.” With that, the droid vanished behind the counter.
When Twiglet returned to the others in the lounge bar—an expansive room filled with private booths—she looked more worried than annoyed. She brought them up to speed.
“If only we could access the upper floors…” she sighed. “We might be able to find him.”
Kyle listened in silence, sipping his cocktail.
“Mm. If I remember correctly, you’re only allowed upstairs with a reservation—and once you’ve paid the bill, of course.” He nodded toward the antigrav well entrance, where two massive droids checked customer tickets. “How about a little detour through the sex shop?”
“Hey, we’re not here to have fun…”
“I swear, this isn’t just an excuse. Trust me—for once, okay?”
Leaving the sex shop, Twiglet and Kyle each carried a couple of plastic bags.
“Holo-cameras?” the mahjit asked. “What for?”
“Wait and see,” Kyle replied. “This one’s for you, Big Guy.”
The k’rell didn’t react. He looked thoughtful, and behind his thick lenses, his eyes gleamed with an eerie light. Even Shirl seemed more unsettled than usual.
“What were those things?”
“What are you talking about?” Kyle said, rummaging in his pockets.
“Those funny things…” she insisted. “Long, sparkling, and…”
Kyle paused, then realization dawned.
“Uh? You mean you’ve never seen a…” He rolled his eyes. “What the hell…” He smoothed his hair with one hand and put on a pair of purple glasses. “Leave it to me.” He pointed toward the front desk. “Be ready. When I tell you, smile and show the holo-cameras.”
With the swagger of a regular, he approached the counter.
“Can I help you, sir?”
The droid was a recent model, its silvery armor covered with flashing advertising brands.
“Hi there! I’m with the Achernar Courier,” Kyle said, flashing a card. “Surely you’ve heard of the most influential magazine in the Perseus Arm…”
“Actually, no, sir,” the droid replied.
“Oh, I can’t believe it! Our magazine’s been bringing the capital’s charm to the imperial backwaters for over thirty years. My editor wants a special feature on New Xanadu’s best nightclubs for our next issue. Naturally, the legendary Nine Wonders is at the top of the list.”
“Media representatives must see Mr. Bandelbrox first.”
“Oh. And who would that be?”
“The Deputy Manager, sir.”
“But, dear boy…” Kyle leaned in, taking on a confidential tone and linking arms with the droid over the counter. “What’s your name, by the way?”
“P5101, sir.”
“Dear P5101, I think you’d look amazing on our next cover. Actually, I just had a brilliant idea—your interview could open the piece! How about this headline: ‘Confessions of a Night Porter’, huh?”
“But… I…” The droid’s photoreceptors blinked with visible confusion.
“You must’ve seen so many things,” Kyle pressed. “So many stories to tell!”
“Ah, no doubt about that!” the droid said proudly.
“Great! So we have a deal! But first, I need to give the place a quick survey, you understand—check out the lighting, the angles…”
For the last time, P5101 hesitated.
“I… don’t think Mr. Bandelbrox would approve…”
“Hey, no need to alert the boss! It’s just a little preliminary survey, that’s all. Totally informal. And meanwhile, why don’t you schedule an appointment with the Deputy Manager so I can get the official go-ahead?”
“…Okay,” the droid relented. “I’ll issue a pass for the upper floors.”
“Well done!” Kyle beamed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Oh—almost forgot! I’ll need passes for my intern and two camera operators.”
He gestured toward the bar. A holo-camera was waved in the air, followed by a couple of hands—perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.
The droid sighed.
“Four passes to the upper floors.”
“Perfect!” Kyle grinned. “P5101, I’m telling you… You’ve got star quality. You’re going to be more famous than Rodolfo DiKaprio!”
A few minutes later, Kyle returned leisurely to the bar and slid onto the stool next to Twiglet.
“You didn’t make it either, did you?” the mahjit asked.
Without a word, Kyle spread four brand-new passes across the counter.
“Wow! He succeeded!” Shirl exclaimed.
“Whath did you thell thhe droid?” Uful’lan asked, skeptical.
“I told it I was doing a special holo-feature for the Achernar Courier.”
“And… it believed you?” Twiglet raised an eyebrow.
“Dunno. I showed him an old press card. Plus, I’m pretty good at lying.”
“No doubt about that,” the mahjit muttered, deadpan.
“Well,” Kyle said, stretching, “now what?”
“I’d say we go through check-in together,” Twiglet suggested, “just to keep up appearances. Then we split up. How many floors are there?”
“Twelve, as far as I know. Not counting the ground level or the launch pads on the roof.”
“All right, then. That’s three floors each. Kyle, you take the first three. I’ll handle the next set. Then Uful’lan, and finally Shirl. Try to find out who Odie Binx is. We might even spot him before the deadline if we’re lucky.”
Twiglet checked her watch.
“Right now it’s 04:27 local time. We reconvene here at 06:30 sharp—with good news, hopefully. Good luck out there… and stay alert.”
Together, they made their way toward one of the antigrav wells. In front of the sliding doors, a pair of droids scanned each visitor’s ticket, verifying access to the reserved attractions. Passes like the ones Kyle had finagled were few and far between.
“But what exactly did you show the reception droid?” Shirl asked, just before they split up.
“I told you—the Achernar Courier press card,” Kyle replied, casually.
“The real thing?” she pressed, incredulous.
Kyle glanced around, then raised a finger to his lips. Half-seriously, he leaned down and whispered into her ear:
“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“You can trust me,” she replied solemnly.
“Well… the Achernar Courier was my second job. It was the archipelago newsletter—and it sold like hot cakes…”
Across the hall, two pairs of eyes—narrow and slit-pupiled—were fixed on a particular group of people.
“Call the Great Wolf,” one of the werewolves whispered.
The other nodded silently and raised a datapad to his ear.
“We’ve found them, Your Excellency,” he reported in an even tone.
The two left the booth where they’d been lurking and strode toward the nearest antigrav well.
No one appeared to notice them. Still, several humanoid patrons glanced up from their menus and shivered, without knowing why.
Please return to the novel’s main page to read the first three chapters for free!
