Torri didn’t know, but she was afraid she was going to find out…
Forty
“Well, I’m sorry to tell you, Kindred, but it’s not a case of repair—the whole system’s burned out—it’ll have to be a full replacement,” LaGross said, sounding genuinely regretful.
“Very well.” Vic nodded stoically. “Do you have the parts to replace it?”
“Lucky for you, I do. I do good business with the Kindred, and I have the part you need.”
“How much do you want for it?” Vic asked, raising his eyebrows. “And how much for the repairs?”
“Let’s see…with parts and labor, I’d say…oh, five hundred yorns,” La’Gross said. “I won’t insult you by asking for less than that.”
“Five hundred?” Torri exclaimed. She looked at Vic anxiously. “How in the world are you going to pay so much?”
“The same way I did last time,” Vic remarked. He looked up at the Gemmite mechanic, who nodded.
“Very well then—let’s go to the payment room.”
He led them past several half-fixed ships, down along a corridor, and into a round room about the size of an efficiency apartment. Hanging on one wall of the room was an enormous energy meter, much larger than the ones the pastry seller or the shawl merchant had used. It was already set at zero but there were tic lines and alien marks along its length, showing where the red line of energy would flow when someone started having emotions. At the very top of the meter were marks that—when Torri stared hard at them—resolved into the number 500, thanks, no doubt to the translation bacteria she’d taken.
So in order to pay for the repairs, Vic was going to have to fill that entire huge meter! Estimating with her eyes, Torri thought it was at least twice as tall as she was. How was he going to manage it?
A look around the room revealed a grim answer. Hanging on a kind of wire pegboard were what could only be described as instruments of torture. There were knives, spears, swords, pinchers, many different implements for hitting or beating someone, and even long metal rods with sparks jumping from their ends like cattle prods!
Worst of all, right in the center of the room was a chopping block. It was a large, flat block about waist high on Vic—which meant it came up to Torri’s breasts—stained a dark, reddish brown. There were ominous looking drips down its wooden sides as though blood had flowed across its surface and slid down to the floor below.
As Torri watched, Vic walked over to the pegboard and selected a large, heavy-looking hatchet. Then he came back to the chopping block, placed his left hand on its stained surface, and raised the hatchet high.
“Stop!” Torri shouted, just before he could bring it down. “Stop right now!”
Vic stopped, the hatchet still in mid-air.
“You don’t need to worry, sweetheart,” he assured her. “Whatever I cut off, I can grow back. Regeneration is one of my talents.”
“I don’t care—I don’t want you to do it!” Torri said stubbornly. “There has to be another way.”
“All right. What way do you suggest?” he asked mildly.
“Why—the same way we paid for the shawl! And the pastry!” Torri exclaimed. She looked up at La’Gross. “Don’t you take payment in romance—I mean sex—too? Surely you don’t just take violence!”
La’Gross looked thoughtful, his tiny face stretching this way and that on its bubble-gum trunk.
“Well, I don’t usually since most of my customers prefer to pay with violence—it’s faster, you know. But you can fill the meter any way you choose—makes no never-mind to me.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Mind you, though, it’ll take an awful lot of high-quality sexing to fill it.”
“That’s okay—we can do it!” Torri lifted her chin. “I’m sure we can.”
La’Gross shrugged again.
“Suit yourself—welcome to try. Come on, then.”
He led them out of the pain payment room, as Torri thought of it, down another long corridor, until they reached another large room on the other end of the hall.
This room was also round and also had a huge yorn meter hanging on the wall, but instead of a blood-stained chopping block, it had an enormous round bed in its center. And instead of a pegboard filled with instruments of torture, there were instruments of…pleasure?
Torri looked at the display uncertainly. Were those nipple clamps? And handcuffs? And a paddle, as well as a long leather handle with a bunch of exotic looking rainbow feathers on one end of it? In addition to all that, she saw dildos of varying dimensions, from one the size of her pinky finger to several that looked like something an elephant might use to service its mate.
“A bit dusty in here,” La’Gross said apologetically. “Since almost none of my customers ask to pay in sex. But everything is clean and in working order.”
“How long do we have to, er, fill the meter?” Torri asked, looking at the enormous yorn meter on the curved wall behind the bed.
“Let’s say you can spend the night, shall we?” La’Gross said, swiveling his tiny face on its stretchy, chewing-gum trunk towards them. “That should give me time to get your ship fixed, Kindred,” he added, talking to Vic. “And you and your pretty lady, there, time to fill my meter.”
“Agreed.” Vic nodded gravely. “Thank you for your patience, La’Gross.”
“Not at all, not at all.” The mechanic made a shooing gesture with one huge, grease-stained hand. “And if the meter falls short, you can always top it up with some pain tomorrow morning.”
Vic nodded again.
“Thank you. I will see that you receive payment in full.”
“I know you will,” La’Gross said approvingly. “Kindred are trustworthy—it’s why I keep doing business with your kind. You have until sunrise.”
Then he nodded at them once more and left, shutting the metal door to the round room behind him with a clang.
Forty-One
“Now what?” Torri looked first at the huge energy meter they were expected to fill with yorns and then at the pegboard filled with pleasure devices.
“Well…” Vic frowned. “I think we need a strategy and we need to pace ourselves. It will take more than one orgasmic experience to fill the meter.”
Torri nodded. “I don’t see how any couple could fill that meter in one try.”
Vic pursed his lips thoughtfully.
“It might be possible if the couple was a Kindred warrior and his female having Bonding Sex, but I don’t think we should attempt that.”
“Oh, right…” Torri said softly. “You don’t want to risk having actual sex because you might bond me to you permanently.”
“That’s partially it,” Vic admitted. “Being part artificial, I am not sure if I could bond you to me, but if I did, you would be left alone with a half-severed soul bond when I go back into stasis. That wouldn’t be fair to you, because you would never be able to bond with another male, after I was gone.”