Page 69 of Outfoxed

“Miss Greene didn’t give you a full disclosure?”

“Can Anna give me full disclosure?”

The woman smiled, but her eyes remained cold and calculating. “No, she can’t. You’re clever. Good. You’ll need to be clever to come out on top of this.” Circling the wheelchair, she rested her hands on the back but didn’t push me down the hall as I expected. “It’s simple. I have been in your shoes. When the system was still fairly new, I was a courtesan. Not an uncontested courtesan like you, but a standard one. I got passed around. While I was being passed around, I worked at getting my doctorate. After I obtained it, I purchased my own contract. I was offered good money to work the circuits, and my job is to make sure women like you are prepared for the reality of the system. I’m also here to make certain the women are healthy, check for signs of abuse, and verify the owners of the contracts are fulfilling their obligations. An abuse allegation from me ends that owner’s ability to use our auction house, and we take all contracts mediated through us seriously. Does that change anything about your position? No. It doesn’t. But this specific operation does make certain the women and men sold into the system are treated with some dignity and respect. If you’re out with our auctions, you’re out for the entirety of Albany, and most places outside of Albany will not sell contracts to somebody blacklisted by us.”

“Can a human being bought and sold be treated with dignity and respect?”

“To a certain degree, yes. For example, contracts can be nullified with any evidence of domestic violence. Buyers are responsible for the health and general wellbeing of their purchases. They’re also required to adhere to all human rights laws. Most contracts include clauses for alternative means of producing a pregnancy, should one part of the pairing have problems. Many women do not want to have intercourse with their purchaser, so they refuse. Artificial methods are then used, and she is paid to become a surrogate, although her eggs are used rather than another woman’s. That’s something women fought for at the start of the system and won early on. You’re our top ticket for this entire year—and for the past several years, actually. Your starting bid value has already been confirmed at half a million dollars. That isn’t what you think it is, either. It’s far more than that. In reality, the winning bidder would be paying the entire auctioned amount to you, the same amount to your provisional contract holder in the Alley, and an additional two hundred thousand to the auction house to cover the legal fees and complexity of your contract, plus twenty percent of the winning bid to be donated to charity. So, if the winning bid is a hundred thousand, the bidder is actually paying four hundred and twenty thousand dollars. Your provisional uncontested contract status has created quite the stir. And as the provisional contract holder opted to remain anonymous outside of the Alley, the auction house has no information on the identity of your provisional owner and will only be able to receive that information upon your sale.”

I grinned at that. “Damn. He’s sneaky. Nice. He’s about to get a damned fine paycheck, isn’t he?”

“And I would bet that he convinced you to sign understanding the inevitability of your situation. To force your new owner to pay a premium for you while securing an excellent paycheck.”

I could roll with that as my public motivation. “As a matter of fact, yes. He did use that to convince me to sign a provisional contract. I have some pride left.”

“Good. The high ticket buyers want people with pride. You’re not someone they’re planning on discarding after you play surrogate, not like a standard courtesan. They’re playing for keeps, and they appreciate when their target wants to play for keeps, too. You fight for every one of those jabs you can get in during the sale. That only works in your favor at this point. A mousey matron doesn’t last long, and that’s what you’ll be polished to become.”

“I’m not precisely clear on this whole matron thing.”

“Matrons and patrons are the heads of an influential household. That’s it. It’s just a way for rich snoots to make use of old words to sound fancy. Some prefer to be called lords or ladies. Others just don’t bother, but in the auction houses, we use matron and patron to simplify things. You can use standard forms of address to anyone in the household. It’s mostly to establish the various differences of ranks within a prominent household, nothing more. There are no requirements for holding the head of the household position beyond everyone in the household agreeing on it. Some households share power. Those households exist to vex people.”

“Doesn’t matron just mean married woman anyway?”

“It does.”

“That is the dumbest damned thing I’ve ever heard.”

The woman grinned at that. “I won’t claim to understand the idiocies of the rich. I just accept their paychecks with a smile, visit my kids whenever they want to see me, and enjoy not having to pay for their upkeep and education. That’s on their fathers.”

“You get to see your kids?”

“Yes. It’s illegal to falsify a birth certificate, and courtesans of either gender are not fiscally responsible for their kids. We’re guaranteed visitation should we want it, too. Their fathers aren’t bad men, and I usually go for dinner once or twice a week when I can.”

“That seems so bizarre to me.”

“They wanted heirs, not trophy wives. Courtesans are a good way to get heirs without having to deal with the wife. Uncontested courtesans, like you, are for the families who want the heirs and the wife. Or husband. And if you prove to be barren, they can’t cancel the contract—and if he proves to be barren, they can’t cancel the contract. You can agree to a surrogate contract, however. Your eggs and his sperm if viable.”

“That’s pretty fucked up, doc.”

“Ah. Right. Names. I’m sorry. I’m Dorothy. No, I won’t click my heels for you, but I’ll make sure you’re put back together without any complications. I’m a witch, I’m damned good at my job, and I’ve been studying medicine for over a decade. I’m experienced, and as long as all your pieces are in the same room, chances are I can put you back together again.”

“How about spleens with bullets through them?”

“As your spleen is non-vital, and complications and blood loss can be severe, it’s usually safer to sacrifice the spleen rather than try to restore the spleen. We were warned you’d suffered catastrophic damage to at least one organ. I’m relieved it was your spleen, but I’ll have to look into your various options and immune system management. You can live without your spleen, but it does serve a purpose in the body.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I can live without my spleen, as it is probably in a trash can somewhere.”

“It’s not if the hospital followed proper protocols. Human organs unsuitable for transplant are supposed to be immediately cremated. But, we are talking about the Alley, which has a very limited supply of competent doctors and nurses. That’s no offense to you, but more a reflection of the Alley’s current situation. Most doctors and nurses are not willing to risk death in the Alley right now, not with the storms worsening.”

How nice. The people in the East monitored the Alley’s woes. I forced myself to keep my eyes on the prize, which involved wrapping my hands around the necks of the murderous bastards behind the storms.

If my buyer could afford my ridiculous price tag, they had money to spare, and money to spare meant they had the resources necessary to deal with my problem. I’d bargain to get what I wanted, and I had no doubt in my mind my perverted fox would jump at the chance to have entire litters of children.

She was happiest watching little ones grow up.

The instant she clued in the creator of the storms ultimately killed children, she’d ride my ass until I put a permanent end to them, and I would go with her flow because I wanted to.

“Yeah. The storms are worsening,” I agreed. “There are funeral pyres daily in the outskirts.”