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“Why is it like that? I mean, why build it with all those twisty tubes and corridors?” Seline asked.
“I believe it is because they needed many different anchor points for the gravity well to counteract the pull of the black hole,” Nox said matter-of-factly.
“Black hole?” Seline exclaimed. “Where?”
“You cannot see it from here, but the entire space station sits just outside the event horizon of a large black hole, about seven hundred times as massive as Earth’s sun,” Nox told her. “They actually use some of the energy being sucked into the hole to power the station but without the gravity well, the Upper Disk and the Tangle itself would both be sucked past the event horizon at once.”
“Oh my—that seems really unsafe!” Seline looked nervous.
“Please do not be anxious—I have plotted a course that skirts the event horizon with plenty of room to spare,” Nox assured her. “There is no possibility of our ship being drawn into the black hole.”
“Well…all right.” She nodded. “I trust you.”
Nox felt something inside that he wasn’t sure how to label. It was…nice to be trusted—to know that Seline felt he could keep her safe.
“My understanding is that Mistress Lendrex and the other female co-owners of Beselex station live here,” he told her, pointing to the black disk at the top of the station. “The bottom half of the station is reserved for merchants and traders of all kinds. It’s said you can buy almost anything in the known universe in the Tangle.”
“Kind of like a giant space mall,” Seline mused.
“With the distinction of also being extremely dangerous if you wander into the wrong part of it,” Nox said, frowning. “I have visited some of your malls on Earth—I do not believe that any of them are frequented by space pirates, cloners, or gene strippers.”
“Ugh!” She shivered expressively. “I don’t even know what those last two are—and I’m not sure I want to know.”
“The cloners are just that—they steal pieces of a person they wish to clone that have DNA attached—hair for instance,” Nox told her. “Gene strippers are considerably worse—they will actually kidnap their intended victim and put them in a dissolution tank.”
“A what?” Seline asked.
“A tank filled with chemicals meant to slowly dissolve and separate each body part into tiny pieces for use in later gene splices,” Nox explained. “Since the subjects go into the tank alive, the pain is said to be both long-lasting and excruciating.”
“Ugh! Nox, why are you telling me all this?” she demanded, looking up at him.
Nox frowned sternly.
“To impress on you the importance of never, ever leaving my side when we enter the Tangle.”
“But why do we have to go there at all?” she asked, pointing to the bottom half of the station. “Can’t we just go up to the disk part and ask to speak to Mistress Lendrex?”
“We need to go for two reasons,” Nox told her. “First, to see if the cred chips Commander Sylvan provided us with are still valid in this universe. And second, we don’t know if we have an appointment in this universe. If I had to guess, I would say we don’t. Since there are no Kindred orbiting around Earth, it stands to reason that there is no Commander Sylvan who arranged an appointment for us with Mistress Lendrex.”
“I didn’t think of that!” Seline exclaimed. “If we don’t have an appointment, how do we get one?”
“Well, we could just ask—but I think it would be beneficial to make a showing in the Tangle first,” Nox said. “To let the people there know you’re a force to be contended with—a formidable Mistress who has credits to spend.”
“I see what you mean—that way our reputation precedes us and we’re more likely to get an appointment.” Seline was nodding thoughtfully. “Good thinking, Nox.”
“Thank you,” Nox said mildly. “Good or logical thinking is my specialty.”
She laughed as though he’d said something humorous, though he had only been stating the truth.
“Of course it is. Well…I guess I’d better get ready.” She sighed. “I wish I knew if they’re wearing the same kinds of fashions that Kat designed for me back in our own universe.”
“Chances are the answer is yes,” Nox told her. “Remember, I have only found a one percent difference in the star charts, which hopefully caries over to the other, smaller details as well.”
“Hopefully,” Seline murmured. “I’d better get changed.”
And she left to go to the fresher while Nox piloted closer to the space station, looking for an ideal place to dock the ship. At last he found a free spot, not too far from the Tangle’s Main Hub. He had just gotten the ship settled in its berth when Seline came back, wearing what Nox had begun to think of as one of her “Mistress outfits.”
It was a long gown made of some black, silky material that split up the front to show a pair of tiny black panties which barely covered her plump pussy mound. The bodice had molded black cups which cradled her full breasts and rose in triangular points which barely covered her nipples while leaving the creamy curves of her breasts bare.
