PRECIOUS CARGO

Copyright 1999 by Maureen. All rights reserved.

Part 16


   Yesterday, Cambelli and Fodessa had discussed the fallout from 
her misadventure at LaGrange Five. Today, she couldn't miss the 
sidelong looks of the other guests, their murmurs to each other, 
their scents of curiosity.
   Thankfully, no one was rude enough to ask -- Cambelli was very 
strict about good manners.
   When the last of his guests arrived, he walked to one wall and 
mounted a little platform meant for this purpose. Gorel, the 
roebuck slave, rang a little brass bell to get everyone's 
attention. The huge living room quickly fell silent.
   The sable antelope smiled over the roomful of guests.
   "Friends," he said, "Welcome to my house. I know you are all 
eager to begin the festivities and to enjoy yourselves, but I 
also know that certain recent events are very much on your minds. 
One of those matters affected a dear friend of mine who is among 
us tonight." 
   Fodessa almost stopped breathing, feeling as if she'd been 
picked out by a spotlight with all the eyes on her.
   "As you can see, she is well and still in business, thank 
Slaaneth!" Sounds of relief and agreement came from the crowd. 
"However," Cambelli continued, "I understand that you must be 
bursting with curiosity, to the point of distraction from your 
pleasures.
   "Therefore, before we turn to the evening's pleasures, I 
invite Fodessa Ruggae to speak before us all about what happened 
and satisfy that curiosity."
   Fodessa braced herself; there was no polite way to refuse. She 
pressed a paw to Windrunner's shoulder and squeezed it, silently 
telling him to stay put, then strode forward to join Cambelli. He 
stepped off the platform to let her mount it.
   Feeling all eyes upon her like a heavy weight, she began.
   "Two weeks ago, I was picking up two clients on LaGrange Five 
in this sector. We were speaking with Blackmuzzle's furries on 
the dock when two GBM agents appeared and a firefight broke out . 
. ."
   She described what happened at the port, the firefight, the 
death of Sidney -- without mentioning Blackmuzzle's words about a 
possible turncoat, or the Jegarlik report.
   " . . . So that's what happened," she finished. "But," she 
flashed her most winning smile, baring her long canine teeth, 
"I'm still in business, and I'm not going to quit."
   Cheers and applause broke out at these last words, even from 
some of the slaves.
   Fodessa made to step off the platform when an alto-deep female 
voice rang out. It belonged to a statuesque gemsbok oryx, dressed 
in a tight black leather outfit.
   "What's this about a traitor in the Underground, the one who's 
behind all these recent arrests? And about Felan Ngular's 
murder?"
   Fodessa felt her face go rigid. She felt her tail give one 
fierce lash before she was able to still it.
   "There's been talk about that, yes," she admitted. "But no 
names are being named."
   "If we've got a turncoat," the oryx said, "we've got to find 
them as soon as possible --"
   Cambelli stepped smoothly between Fodessa and her audience, 
facing the oryx.
   "Dionne, I'm sure we all appreciate and share your concern," 
he said smoothly. "And we all regret the fact that an Underground 
member was murdered, on top of those tragic arrests. But please, 
let's not engage in frenzied speculation that could spread 
suspicion and accusations. Rest assured that we are doing what we 
can to get to the bottom of this. And please, remember that this 
*is* an occasion to enjoy ourselves, not to fret about tragic 
events."
   Dionne clamped her jaw, her dipped ears adding to her sheepish 
expression. Fodessa sighed inwardly with relief and stepped off 
the platform.
   Cambelli returned to it, but only to announce: "I trust no one 
will disrupt Fodessa's enjoyment of the evening, unless she 
herself brings it up. And now it is time for us to play!" He 
spread his arms grandly, then stepped down, smiling and urbane as 
always.
   A buzz of chatter sprang up as the guests, accepting that the 
speakers were finished, began to disperse through the room.
   Fodessa reclaimed Windrunner. She smelled his eagerness to 
know more, but she shushed him even before he could ask to speak.
   "I'll discuss it with you -- later," she whispered. "I 
promise."
   Then she joined the party, the wolf in tow.
   The food was lavish and gourmet quality -- meats of a dozen 
different varieties (and you'd never know it was vat-grown); a 
hundred different libations, including catnip wine (she indulged 
only carefully, sipping a single glass); candies; fruits; 
vegetables both raw and prepared; an equally lavish assortment of 
dishes for the grazers and browsers such as scented alfalfa, 
acacia leaves and tolgen twigs with leaves from Cassiol.
   She helped herself to some sliced cold venison and fed half of 
it, bite by bite, to Windrunner as he knelt beside her, while she 
discussed the upcoming jai-alai season's outlook with a black-
muzzled ferret domme named Tosi. No one made any further 
reference to LaGrange Five, though she could smell Tosi's 
curiosity. Then she walked around the room, admiring the slaves 
displayed on the walls, Windrunner always beside her.
   She encountered the cheetah she'd seen bound on the lawn 
yesterday. Gagged with a ball gag, spread-eagled and freshly 
brushed, he squirmed at her approach, recognizing her -- she'd 
played with Shaki before. His erection was bigger than ever, his 
balls swollen and reddened under their light fur.
   "And how are you this lovely night?" she asked, grinning. 
"Happy to see me and all ready to play, I see."
   She knelt down before that bobbing feline cock and began to 
tease it, running one finger up and down its heated length, while 
Shaki squirmed in his shackles and moaned futilely behind his 
gag.
   Windrunner stirred restlessly beside her, and when she glanced 
over she could see his own loincloth bulging. 
   Shaki thrust his hips forward, desperate for one more 
millisecond of sensation. She wondered how long it had been since 
he'd been allowed to come.
   "He's magnificent, isn't he?" an unfamiliar voice said behind 
her.
   She rose and turned around. Standing behind her was -- to her 
surprise -- a male human. She recognized him of the type other 
humans called "Asian", with high cheekbones, slanting brown eyes 
and black hair cut short. Like most of the guests, he was in 
casual but expensive dress -- iridescent opal-cotton top, golden 
felfiber trousers.
   He gave her a winning smile as white as her own, if less 
impressively fanged.
   "I'm Lou Nguyen," he said.
   Fodessa eyed him carefully, then smiled her social smile. "I'm 
Fodessa, as you already know. And yes, he is magnificent."
   "I'm one of Blackmuzzle's representatives on Perion," he 
explained. "This is the first time I've been to one of Cambelli's 
parties, though. I can see they're quite exciting."
   "Yes, they are," Fodessa agreed. "Cambelli has promised to 
have Mbili perform for us later."
   "I'm looking forward to it," he said, flashing another smile.
   What a charmer, Fodessa thought, even if he does have the 
misfortune to have no fur. His smell was odd -- she'd never liked 
the moldy-bologna smell of human beings -- but it held a bright 
node of confidence that was a match for her own.
   "And how is it that a human is in the Darksex Underground?" 
she asked.
   "It's true that I'm fairly new. Actually I'm primarily a 
trained business representative, not an active agent. I was 
employed by the Desitri firm on Gulan until about two years ago, 
when I decided to take a permanent position with Blackmuzzle. Not 
all humans are puritanical about furry sex, you know -- I've 
sympathized with the Underground for a long time."
   Fodessa smiled, nodded. Unlike the situation on twentieth-
century Earth, modern business representatives, who had to be as 
much cross-species anthropologists and corporations. Desitri was 
one of the galaxy's top three firms in that area.
   "And how do you like working for Blackmuzzle?" she asked.
   Lou flashed his winning smile yet again. "She's a wonderful 
boss," he said. "Very committed, extremely competent. I'm 
privileged to be working for her. And the pay is excellent."
   A burst of excited laughter sounded elsewhere, and they turned 
their heads to see Gorel standing on the platform, once again 
ringing his little bell. A knot of furries was already clustered 
there, concealing what was going on, but she could glimpse 
Cambelli's arching horns, Mbili's corkscrewing ones.
   "Looks like Mbili's at last about to perform," Fodessa 
suggested. "Let's take that in at closer range."
   "Agreed," Lou said, and they began walking toward the 
gathering crowd, Windrunner padding along humbly behind them.


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