The War of Civlar Page 5

CHAPTER 5 - REST AND RELAXATION

  Flight official Pliss had only finished the academy a month ago. As customary, he had been partying ever since, knowing full well that the statistical odds of being killed in first combat were a staggering ten percent.

  Pliss, a single man, was only twenty-one and is currently without a partner. Although he wanted children and a family, not only for the fulfillment of having a child to love and bring up, but also for the standard, though less charitable, reasons in Civlar: from a social perspective he did not want to be seen as an evolutionary failure. Pliss can't be said to be too unattractive, but his intensive studies and habits have always conflicted with his search for a girlfriend, although he did have a couple to his record.

  Today, he decided to try something different.

  After having a shower and putting on some fine garments, he heads out to the public transport hub to take a ride to the red light area. As he has only just graduated from the academy and not yet earned any real money from actual combat missions, he currently relies on the public system to get around.

  While he is making his way out, he runs into one of his close friends, Amy. He thinks this might be the perfect time to boast about the night of debauchery he has planned.

  “Do you have private sex insurance?” asks Amy.

  “No, I didn't think I'd need it,” confessed Pliss anxious to hide his feelings of failure.

  Giggling, Amy reminds Pliss that the government rebate from the Department of Fun is about to be downgraded soon, so he picked the right time to do what he was doing. “Cheap as chips! But – the drugs are at full rates...now if you had private, you could really afford to kick on!”

  “Maybe I should get my own!” he joked, knowing full well that only the government was allowed to run the brothels. A few corruption scandals a dozen or so year back had solidified that arrangement, although it was not normally in the philosophy of the government to stifle free enterprise.

  As the shuttle stops at the red light zone, Pliss begins to make his way through the maze of partygoers and buildings. It is hard work, since many now had taken copious quantities of Pleasurin, Cruise or Love and was inclined to hug him at random, or stop him to ask meaningless questions. He is almost exhausted when he gets to the brothel, which he had considered to be the classiest based on its outward appearance and reputation.

  He enters through the door from the rowdy atmosphere of the street into a calm and relaxed surrounding, air conditioned and scented with mellow music playing in the background. He had already spent the day preparing his conversational technique and topics with the prostitute, since the sex would only be a small portion of the allotted time. He doesn't really have anything much to discuss however, since his life was rather dull as a student and he didn't really know about much else. The only real question that came to mind was something he thought rather rude – particularly, why would this woman, whom like all men, being trained to a minimum of Class-15a level - chose to become a prostitute as opposed to a doctor or technician. “I doubt she would take offense if I asked,” he thought. After all, simple insult is not a persecution crime and he was truly curious.

  After some small distracted absence, the receptionist sees him and smiles.

  “How are you today?” she asks.

  “Good” he replies succinctly.

  “How long are you planning to stay tonight? 3 or 5 hours? And how many women would you like? Or would you prefer men?” asks the receptionist, standard questions as they were.

  “No” he laughed, “just one woman will suffice!” exclaims Pliss.

  “Well, you're easy to please! Since your order is so small, you won't have to wait long. May I ask if you are privately insured?”

  “No.”

  “In that case, would you prefer a government prostitute or a contractor? Although, they can be a bit pricey.”

  The receptionist stands up, leaned over the desk and whispers in his ear: “If you ask me, they are all equally hot, it’s just, you know, those 'status types' that always go for the contractors. What do you do for a living? I bet it's with the government, or still studying? At your age you must be advanced!”

  “Air force”, he replies proudly. She looks impressed. “In that case, let me make some adjustments. We usually don't let Veronica with anybody new to our brothel, but she really has a thing for military men.”

  “Great! While you are waiting, what drugs are you after? Unfortunately, without private insurance...”

  “Full rate, I know. How about some Pleasurin-12!” requests Pliss, being the standard drug of choice in Civlar.

  “Sir, studies indicate that Pleasurin-12 increases sexual stimulation and enjoyment by only 200%. You really should try the new Luxlar; it has a minimum increase of 500%. Trust me, you can handle it! Actually, forget the payment, I'll shout you one! I just want you to enjoy yourself!”

  “That's very kind of you!” he exclaims, wondering whether he would prefer the receptionist instead, but quickly corrected his thoughts. That's not her job.

  “I'll put you in for 3 hours”, she grins. “When you go into combat, ice some fundies for me!” said the receptionist, handing over some small triangle shaped pills.

  Sitting in the room, the effects of the Luxlar slowly started to envelop. At even the slightest thought of what was about to happen to him, his erection would start to rise, almost too fast to be comfortable. “I hope I'm not too fast....” he murmured nervously.

  “You can be as fast or slow as you want to be,” chimes a gentle voice from across the room. “Luxlar is like that.”

  She strode over and sat by the bed. “Talk or sex first?” she asked.

  Despite the effects of the Luxlar, Pliss was still curious about his previous question that had come to mind. “Err... not much talk, but I'm just wondering...” he starts.

  “Freedom of Information is a law, right and duty.” she beamed comically.

  “Uh... well, I suppose you would be, like...Class-15?” Pliss continues.

  “No, I am Class-17 actually,” Veronica responds.

  Embarrassed, Pliss makes a hasty apology, “Wow, that's a whole class above me!”

  “You are wondering why I do this, don't you?” she smiled, “I think that question is rhetorical, since we Class-17 are highly perceptive. There's no intricate philosophy to it, friend. I like sex.” she said with a fixed gaze. She wasn't really angry; she was just playing with him. Veronica found it was always entertaining to get her client slightly nervous.

  “But so many men?” Pliss asks softly. “Yes”, she whispered, her eyes glazing over with affection, “so many men.” Pliss began to consider this perspective, but was interrupted by the commencement of a blow job. They were right, she was good.

  Pliss woke up in a haze of satisfaction. Veronica was already awake and sipping on a coffee. “Did you like my uniform?” she asks.

  “Well, it's a bit strange, but I'm certain it was effective...” is Pliss' drowsy reply.

  Then waking himself further, he thinks now that this was not just a rhetorical question.

  “It's a lot more, conservative, than I would have imagined. You look like...” he stopped short.

  “A Zealot?” Veronica inquired with excitement.

  “Apart from the high heels and stockings!” he laughs.

  “I thought you'd like it, being a military man,” said Veronica.

  This was a confusing concept to Pliss and he knew that she intended it to be.

  Feeling bold, possibly by the experience, he jokes - “I'm not a rapist!”

  “I didn't imply that you were! Perhaps you had managed to 'reform' me – did you ever consider that?”

  “Hence the heels!” he says with complete understanding,