Utterly Mad

That night after work, Catnip made her slow way back to Pinky's Pleasure Palace. Beyond those double doors would be the mingled smells of perfume, liquor, and food. The money which King had sent Minx and Catnip with to retrieve Pinky had been used to retrofit the old shopping center, Pre-Catalysm Pricetowns only major feature besides the base and refugee center (and the lab hidden beneath it), into an entertainment venue. Pinky had the experience and the know how to pull it off, billing the Pleasure Palace as a place where one could get a quick bite and an easy fuck at the end of a hard day. Food was something King hadn't cared to deal in. Pinky on the other hand knew that not everybody was down for the kind of trade King's court specialized in. The Pleasure Palace was smaller, but the Pleasure Palace was better.

As she expected, pushing her way into the foyer, she was hit with the smells. Mostly food, which tantalized her at the end of the day. The doorman took her bag and checked it carefully, then gave it back as always. The entrance was quiet, but the sounds of people from the inner room came muffled through the expensive double glass of the foyers inner door. She could see the people beyond, enjoying meals and the company of Pinky's girls. Some of them would later head up to the back rooms, where they would perform the trade they were used to while others would walk the floor, serving drinks and being charming.

Catnip moved instead for the stairs. She wasn't allowed in the main room, being neither server nor call girl. Catnip couldn't even cook. The best consolation she had was that she was at least allowed to eat the meals prepared by the staff. Catnip stopped a server in the hall and made a polite request. The meal would come out of her debt, if she'd been a debt slave. Instead it was a flat loss, and that suited Catnip fine. She wasn't spiteful towards Pinky but at the same time she wasn't overly fond of being a slave either.

"How was it?" Minx asked. She was surprised to see Catnip back before noon and worried that the job may not have gone over so well.

"Fine. It was just some kind of meeting thing. I guess there will be work tomorrow. There were a lot of people..."

Minx slapped her on the back, and Catnip wanted to tell her not to. She hated being slapped on the back almost as much as she hated being called "champ" or "boss." Soon she was alone in her room, putting aside her bag and taking out her tools. Before she'd finished her nightly ritual, her order came and was set aside as usual. From the small window in her room, she looked out at the eastern stars appearing in the sky, and the mountainous horizon far in the distance. A plan began to form. She couldn't walk, but there was always a way. Her transport would have to be tough and have a measure of endurance. It had to be able to shed the Mycus that was known to inhabit this side of that distant natural barrier, and it had to have a lot of power. She could design it, but she didn't think she could do it alone or as a slave. She needed her freedom, and she needed help. After her dishes were taken away and her ritual complete, she lay in bed and schemed. When sleep took her, Catnip dreamed the long dreams of home.