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Chloe Weathers looked the file over, skimming the pages of information about the space station. The station had been up and running for six years now, and word of illegal activities on board had only reached the Peacekeepers two months ago. Reportedly, the station had set up an illegal bordello and was paying to have women shipped there to entertain the workers. Prostitution was legal, outside of the planet, and most space stations had equipped themselves with such amusements for the workers. However, it was illegal to take a woman against her will and place her in one of those houses without a contract. Reportedly, this was what was going on here.
JANItech had always been cutting corners. The Peacekeepers board had had many problems with their space stations in the past. Unsafe equipment had repeatedly killed workers. Some had been forced to sign longer contracts after threats on their well being, and many other violations of the Work Codes had been reported. Chloe thought that it would be right up their alley to forget hiring expensive prostitutes and forcing girls into the jobs instead.
Sighing, Chloe pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and glanced across the desk to the General, the man in charge of the local Peacekeeper sect.
"You want me to go in, make sure these rumors are true?" She asked.
He nodded. "We need to make sure before we send in any units. I don't want this to become a big media event…if anyone found out that we hadn't noticed this by now, there might be panic. People want to think that we are omnipotent, but we aren't. We've heard that these people are buying girls from all different sources. Earth has reported six hundred women missing in the last month alone, all from the same areas, all with similar events surrounding their disappearances. In the last year, thousands have gone missing. A 60% increase since the new Mars Station was set up."
"The modeling ads, right?" Chloe asked, pulling out one of the papers from the file. "The girls go to meet with an agent, and never come back."
"Right," the man nodded. "They think that they are headed for the job of a lifetime but instead end up in a whore house on a space station orbiting Mars."
"What kind of precautions are you taking?" Chloe asked. "I'm not going into this without some safety net."
"We have stationed ten of our own men on the station. A few of them have been selected for janitorial service, but most of them are on the planet most of the month, mining. They will be in constant contact with us, and hopefully be able to keep an eye on you. But this station hasn't had any other complaints. To all outside eyes, it is running legally and smoothly. The only way we'll know what's going on is if in fact you are recruited against your will and end up in their brothel.
Chloe shuddered. There were so many risks involved with this job. But she would do it, if it would save one innocent woman from that fate, she would do it.
The glass of water looked especially appealing, and Chloe took a deep drink. She shut her eyes and took another deep breath before making her decision.
"I'll do it," she said.
"Thank you, Miss Weathers." The man seemed to release his breath, his body relaxing visibly. "We have a plan on how to get you onto the ship."
Chloe took the offered papers as the General slid them across the desk.
"As you can see, we have highlighted the ads which we think the missing girls replied to. We want you to call the numbers and make appointments. Let us know which places you call and which you are going to. Call us after each one that doesn't…work out, alright?"
"You mind if I make some arrangements before I call?" Chloe asked. "I'll probably have to tell my parents something about why I'm taking off for an interminable period of time."
The General nodded. "Go ahead, take the weekend. Call us Monday morning before you get to work, alright?"
Chloe nodded and stood up. She turned away from the man and walked out of the office. The big glass doors slid open to allow her exit.
$$
This get up felt ridiculous, Chloe thought. She was used to dressing conservatively, not anything like the slut she was portraying. Her dress barely covered her round bottom, the top barely reached below her breasts. It was almost impressive, she thought, that it could be so low cut and so high cut at the same time. The heels almost did her in. She wasn't used to two inches, let alone six.
A receptionist droid ushered her into a bright office. The windows were large and uncovered, showing off a view of the surrounding skyscrapers. Cars hovered by the windows in sporadic movements that New Yorkers had perfected over the centuries. A man sat behind a big black desk, his hands crossed in front of him. He smiled slyly at Chloe.
"Welcome," he said. "Please have a seat. My name is Curtis Manning."
"Kennedy Johnson," Chloe lied, shaking the man's hand over the desk. He put his hands back in front of him and smiled again. "Tell me about yourself, Kennedy. It says here that you're not a professional model. What brought you to New York?"
"Well," Chloe started, "I'm a student. I've been studying at NYU for almost three years. My major is film, and I hope some day to work behind a camera."
"Very nice," the man said. "And why do you think that you would like this job?"
Chloe swallowed hard and looked Mr. Manning in the eye. "Well, sir," she said, "I know I have the body for it. I've never tried anything like this, but I need some cash to finish school and it seems pretty easy to me."
"You do have the figure," Mr. Manning agreed. He pressed a button on his desk and the droid rolled inside.
"Yes sir?" the droid said in its monotone voice.
"Drinks, please," Manning said. "For me and the lady."
"Yes, sir," the droid hummed, backing out of the room. It returned moments later with two cups of liquid, which it placed in front of the two humans.
"Honestly," Manning started, "I think that you are perfect for the job. We have a few screening interviews which I would like you to attend…but before we can send you to them, we have to get some legal things out of the way."
Chloe nodded, unsure of what was going on. This guy seemed like a legitimate agent, rather than a kidnapper. How could she make excuses to get out of there?
"For one thing," Manning said, "If you sign with us, your body is ours. I mean, the right to photograph your body is ours alone. You can't go to another firm, you can't do commercials…any extra projects you desire to do you have to go through us first."
Chloe nodded dumbly. "Okay," she said. She lifted her drink to her lips and took a couple sips. The liquid was sweet, and warmed her almost instantly. She looked down into the cup at the swirling fluid, and took another sip.
"We require that you sign a contract before even the interviews promising that you will promise to do that. We don't even want your test photos leaking out into the public."
Manning's voice seemed to echo in Chloe's head. Her eyes lost focus and for a moment she saw double, but she struggled to concentrate and once again the picture was clear. Her head felt fuzzy and she shook it slightly, trying to regain her composure.
"Do you agree, Kennedy?" the man was repeating.
Chloe nodded again. She watched, fascinated by the smooth movements, as Manning pushed a piece of paper and a pen across the table.
"Sign at the bottom, please," he was saying.
Struggling to focus her eyes, Chloe stared at the paper. For the life of her, she couldn't tell what it said. Her head swam and she suddenly felt very tired. Picking up the pen, she scribbled her name at the bottom of the page. The tool felt unusually heavy, and Chloe yawned loudly.
"I'm tired," she mumbled, before collapsing into her arms on the table.
Curtis Manning smiled and pushed the button on his desk again. The doors parted and the droid rolled into the room.
"Contact Ross," Manning told the droid. "Tell him I have another package ready for delivery."
$$$
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- 16.12.2020
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