Page 63 of The Pleasure Contract

I bat my eyelashes.

Glex’s whole face lights up.

“Of course, my dear,” he chuckles in a pleased, condescending way that tells me he relishes any opportunity to feel superior. Maybe I could use that.

Glex leans forward and presses buttons I didn’t know were there on the low, round coffee table in front of us. The polished dark wood of the table splits in a circle at the center as a console rises with a quiet woosh. Along the inside of the console are multiple pairs of those little neuro patches these guys use in their spicy simulators.

“You know, it was a family member of mine that first invested in this technology,” Glex says, holding up one of the neuro patches before pressing it to his temple, making the little light on the thing turn electric blue.

I raise my brows and nod as if impressed, following suit by attaching my own patches.

A server arrives with his drink, but Glex ignores the male in favor of ushering me to stand and come closer to the glass overlooking the arena with him.

The playing ‘field’ – if you can call it that – is absolutely enormous. Bigger than any sports arena I’ve ever seen. There are hoops of various sizes floating at different heights above the ground, and the ground itself isn’t turfed in lush green grass – real or artificial. Instead, the floor of the playing space looks kind of like… an oil spill on asphalt. It’s mainly a dark gray, but there’s an undulating sheen to it like a rainbow. The surface itself almost looks like it’s pulsing, causing the oil-slick rainbow to move along with it. “What is that?” I hear myself ask.

“Oh, that?” Glex chuckles. “Those are millions of tiny terrain cells. They are programmed by each team’s Arena Master to form the physical structures, obstacles, or creatures their opponents will encounter. Each terrain cell interlocks together to create the framework of the game, then these,” he says, tapping at one of his neuro patches, “overlay a holographic image so that the cells look like a tree, or a cliff face, or a pack of attacking long-toothed hounds,” Glex explains, laughing to himself again. “That was a good play from Pax before he came over to our team, I must admit.”

“Pax?” I say, smiling, seeing perhaps another route to forming a connection with this guy. “I know him.” The words rush out of my mouth before I can fully think them through. I only know Pax because Az kind of forced him to commit a crime for my benefit. “I mean… I’ve heard Az talk about him and how he misses having him on the team.”

Senator Glex gives me an odd, knowing smile, but I chalk it up to sporting rivalry vibes since the Capital did poach him from Az’s team.

“So…” I start, turning back toward the arena, trying to move the conversation along. “The game is played in a holographic environment, and the terrain cells are what make the hologram solid?” I ask, clarifying.

“Exactly! Yes!” Glex chortles in a tone that was the epitome of condescension, and I can’t figure out if he’s surprised I’m understanding because I’m human, or because I’m a woman.

Maybe it’s just the double-whammy of being both that’s the most damning in his mind?

“Each Arena Master will control half the playing space to start with. The main aim of the game is to find the hidden drakballs and get them through the advantage hoops.”

Seems simple enough.

“You see, each time a ball goes through a hoop, that team is given an advantage.”

“Aptly named,” I quip, quickly thanking Zek as he quietly brings me a drink. When I turn back to face Glex, he looks unamused, and I realize I’m going to need to keep up this whole ‘fawning over your superior knowledge’ bit if this guy is ever going to listen to a single word I have to say about human trafficking. “What kind of advantages can they earn?” I ask, trying to sound like I’m hanging on every word this wise and wonderful male deigns to bestow upon me.

He looks pleased, so it must be working. “Oh, a variety of things. The players start without their draks, and placing a ball through a hoop could release one for them to use. It can also give them the advantage of more arena space for their Arena Master to control, or the opportunity to unleash all manner of unruly beasts or packs of animals for the opposing team to fight off and kill.”

I swallow a sip of the fruity drink Zek had brought me. “But the animals aren’t real, right? They’re holograms and those cell-thingies. They’re not killing real animals for sport?”

“Good Goddesses, no,” Glex says, shaking his head. “My dear, we are a civilized society. You can put any notion of barbaric practices behind you now that you are here,” he says, chortling into his own glass before adding, “No, as Xavianns, we have a level of sophistication and culture that would prohibit such a cruelty.”

Ah, okay. Mr High-And-Mighty has a seriously deep-rooted superiority complex. Got it.

“Besides,” he continues, “using real animals would mean keeping and caring for the creatures. Think of the resources needed – and the mess!”

I feign a smile and spot a tentative thread I might be able to pull at.

“Your people are very kind and caring, that’s for certain,” I tell him, nodding into my drink. “I can’t think of any other species who would do so much for others – just as yours has done for my friends and me.”

He smiles proudly as if he had been the one to take us in and care for us. “Indeed,” he agrees. “You are lucky to have been rescued by a people that reaches out with a kind hand to the less civilized.”

Oh, barf.

Ignoring the added helping of a savior complex on top of an already very healthy serving of feelings of superiority, I decide to continue following that thread.

“Exactly!” I say, taking the opportunity to lightly touch Glex’s arm – a move that definitely didn’t go unnoticed. “See, I just knew you were going to be kind and caring enough to help me with a very important cause.”

Glex is still wearing an expression of confusion as he stares at the same spot on his arm where I’d touched him, like he can’t figure out what just happened. “Hm?” he says, absentmindedly.