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sounds like a real bitch. He may be pretty but I’d say he’s probably a bit dim. That’s usually the case.”
    “Why would you say he’s probably dim? For deciding not to spend his life in virtual captivity? Personally, I think he’s pretty brave.”
    “Point taken, I suppose. We’ll see”
     
    * * * *
     
    Raniko begrudgingly admitted that maybe Hudson had a point. She was always quick to recognise that her own sense of judgement was not always the best. Such was the reason for her downfall. Once upon a time, Raniko had been totally trusting.
    As a young girl back in Tokyo, she had a weekend job in a film rental store, behind the counter, nothing too strenuous, while she was studying for a degree in fine art. One visitor, on one not too- ominous day, changed the course of her whole life, which had hitherto been perfect. One visitor, popping in to rent a simple film, saw her and became entranced with her gazelle- like beauty. Barely out of retainers, Raniko thought the small, moustached agent from a modelling agency was having a joke or gushing out an awful line, but she went to the studio and never looked back. Not for a while, at least.
    Soon, she was jetting the globes, Earth, Venus, Pluto, as a supermodel in great demand from the universe’s top designers, all clamouring for her long, slender limbs and hourglass waist to be drenched in their expensive wares. Between her and the moustached man, Shuji, they had made a fortune from her looks, her elegance and her style, all coated in the style of others. Then.
    Unbeknown to Raniko, her manager was a gambling addict. He had lost his own , then her fortune. He had insulted her sponsors and formed such a terrible reputation that no-one would work with him. In spite, he spread some terrible rumours about Raniko to the press which sullied her own reputation beyond repair on the basis that there’s no smoke without fire. He said she was a prostitute when he discovered her with a drug problem and a racist attitude to non-Earthlings. Overnight, she found her house sprayed with terrible graffiti, bricks were thrown into her garden and a great crowd was suddenly baying for her blood. Of course, her sponsors did not care whether the rumours were true or not. Raniko had become bad for business.
    That was the morning Raniko changed her business. Calmly, she sat at her breakfast table and poured cream from a Wedgwood jug into the coffee her maid had left before leaving in fear of a riot. Raniko had begun life without much money. To do it again was no big deal. In fact, currency had not bought her any happiness she could not find without money. Outside her patio window, she could hear the low seething of an insurrection. She would simply find her way secretly outside their murderous clamourings and the galaxy’s most famous model would simply disappear. Her plan worked perfectly.
    On a cruiser with a ticket to anywhere, disguised in a large brimmed hat, raincoat and sunglasses, Raniko happened to open the newspaper to a medium sized advert placed by Star Fighters Mercenaries for their services. At first, she was glued to it by a wave of revenge. That feeling soon vanished. Ambition replaced it and Raniko decided she would catch the next ship to their headquarters. A holiday with a bunch of hairy mercenaries was not her original idea but she was mighty glad that her fate eventually guided her there.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Nine
    Road To A New Career
     
     
    At the outer edge of the high mountain range, which fringed the beautiful paradise resort of Kirslan, Dylan Thorn stood with his tanned, strong hand upon Devon’s shoulder. Sunshine rained upon them and the watery remains of a rinsed out rainbow arched overhead. Thorn had given Devon the skimpy national dress of Kirslan; a small thong loincloth fashioned from antelope hide called a bandela. His taut buttocks gleamed in the sunlight, strong as the mountain rocks.
    “I’m kind of sorry to see you go so soon,”