in the 43rd Logistics Support Function.
"That's it," she said when finished.
Calan pulled it to his screen and read. Then he frowned. "There isn't a lot here to work with," he said, doubtfully.
"I realize there may not be anything in inventory or a related area," Kendra acknowledged. "But I can do loading, stocking or whatever, until something administrative shows up."
"The problem is," Calan explained, "that all the light jobs get snatched up by juveniles looking for spending money, veterans get preference for technical positions and unskilled heavy jobs are rare, with the industrial base we have. If you can lift fifty kilos regularly in this climate, I can find a few, but they don't pay well."
" Fifty? " She repeated, shocked. "No, not for very long."
"That is the detail. I can recommend a couple of prospects that usually aren't hiring, but will probably make an exception for you. They both offer training. Cavalier Enterprises and Bellefontaine."
"What would I be doing?"
"Cavalier Enterprises is one of the most respected escort services in Jefferson. They offer dancers, modeling, escorts for business or social functions, massage and exotic sex fantasies. The Bellefontaine is a club that offers erotic dancing and they specialize in dancers with rare or off-world looks."
Kendra was silent in amazement. A chill shot down her spine and all the way to her left heel. She opened her mouth twice and finally got out, "No."
"They are both excellent companies," Calan stated simply. "I occasionally visit the Bellefontaine myself."
I'll bet you do, Kendra thought. She wished as hard as she could, but the man refused to fall over dead. Outwardly, she simply shook her head.
"They do provide training," he repeated. "And the pay is excellent, with good benefits, plus tips."
"No!" Kendra said firmly, feeling dizzy. Her breath was ragged and her pulse raced.
Calan shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't have anything else. You have listed no marketable skill."
Kendra took a deep breath. "I want to see Citizen Hernandez," she said.
Shrugging again, Calan said, "We can see him. I don't know what you expect him to do." He stood up and gestured for the door.
Outside, he led her quickly into the bright afternoon Iolight. They strode through an architectural dream that Kendra would have stopped to admire had she noticed. She thought about making a break for it, but she had no assets and she still had a tracer implanted. The few blocks to Hernandez's office seemed an eternity and her pulse had slowed only slightly by the time the Citizen's secretary had ushered them into his office. She was panting from both exertion and fear.
Hernandez bowed briefly and inquired, "I understand there is a problem?"
"Hell, yes!" Kendra exploded, tears streaming. "This . . . individual is trying to tell me that I have a choice of stripper or whore. If that's what's here, then you can send me home and I'll take my chances with prison."
"Going back without a bond is out of the question," Hernandez replied, while looking inquiringly at Calan.
Calan was not paying attention. "The job is safe, well paid and provides free training. No one in a nonservice field is going to pay for unskilled grunt labor—"
"Quiet," Hernandez said softly. Calan obeyed.
Beginning again, Calan said, "I offered her the best that is available. If that doesn't work, I can only suggest a delay-on-credit and wait for something more to her taste."
"Oh, so I can run up a debt and be a company girl—"
"If you—"
They both raised their voices and resumed the argument. Hernandez interrupted at about half their volume, "Calan, sit down!" he turned slightly and continued, "Pacelli, sit down!"
They did as he ordered, Kendra panting with terror.
Hernandez looked from one to the other, stood up and headed for a bar. "Ms Pacelli, before we begin, would you like something to drink?"
"No, thank you," she replied icily, trying to calm herself.
Hernandez shrugged and tapped orders for
"That's it," she said when finished.
Calan pulled it to his screen and read. Then he frowned. "There isn't a lot here to work with," he said, doubtfully.
"I realize there may not be anything in inventory or a related area," Kendra acknowledged. "But I can do loading, stocking or whatever, until something administrative shows up."
"The problem is," Calan explained, "that all the light jobs get snatched up by juveniles looking for spending money, veterans get preference for technical positions and unskilled heavy jobs are rare, with the industrial base we have. If you can lift fifty kilos regularly in this climate, I can find a few, but they don't pay well."
" Fifty? " She repeated, shocked. "No, not for very long."
"That is the detail. I can recommend a couple of prospects that usually aren't hiring, but will probably make an exception for you. They both offer training. Cavalier Enterprises and Bellefontaine."
"What would I be doing?"
"Cavalier Enterprises is one of the most respected escort services in Jefferson. They offer dancers, modeling, escorts for business or social functions, massage and exotic sex fantasies. The Bellefontaine is a club that offers erotic dancing and they specialize in dancers with rare or off-world looks."
Kendra was silent in amazement. A chill shot down her spine and all the way to her left heel. She opened her mouth twice and finally got out, "No."
"They are both excellent companies," Calan stated simply. "I occasionally visit the Bellefontaine myself."
I'll bet you do, Kendra thought. She wished as hard as she could, but the man refused to fall over dead. Outwardly, she simply shook her head.
"They do provide training," he repeated. "And the pay is excellent, with good benefits, plus tips."
"No!" Kendra said firmly, feeling dizzy. Her breath was ragged and her pulse raced.
Calan shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't have anything else. You have listed no marketable skill."
Kendra took a deep breath. "I want to see Citizen Hernandez," she said.
Shrugging again, Calan said, "We can see him. I don't know what you expect him to do." He stood up and gestured for the door.
Outside, he led her quickly into the bright afternoon Iolight. They strode through an architectural dream that Kendra would have stopped to admire had she noticed. She thought about making a break for it, but she had no assets and she still had a tracer implanted. The few blocks to Hernandez's office seemed an eternity and her pulse had slowed only slightly by the time the Citizen's secretary had ushered them into his office. She was panting from both exertion and fear.
Hernandez bowed briefly and inquired, "I understand there is a problem?"
"Hell, yes!" Kendra exploded, tears streaming. "This . . . individual is trying to tell me that I have a choice of stripper or whore. If that's what's here, then you can send me home and I'll take my chances with prison."
"Going back without a bond is out of the question," Hernandez replied, while looking inquiringly at Calan.
Calan was not paying attention. "The job is safe, well paid and provides free training. No one in a nonservice field is going to pay for unskilled grunt labor—"
"Quiet," Hernandez said softly. Calan obeyed.
Beginning again, Calan said, "I offered her the best that is available. If that doesn't work, I can only suggest a delay-on-credit and wait for something more to her taste."
"Oh, so I can run up a debt and be a company girl—"
"If you—"
They both raised their voices and resumed the argument. Hernandez interrupted at about half their volume, "Calan, sit down!" he turned slightly and continued, "Pacelli, sit down!"
They did as he ordered, Kendra panting with terror.
Hernandez looked from one to the other, stood up and headed for a bar. "Ms Pacelli, before we begin, would you like something to drink?"
"No, thank you," she replied icily, trying to calm herself.
Hernandez shrugged and tapped orders for
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