Chapter 16: Ray Dawn
Ray Dawn strode along the bustling Sandton Avenue. The street was lined with clubs tightly packed on either side of the road, flashing LED signs and the distant hum of floatcars navigating sky traffic.
A general excitement hung in the air. Smiling faces and laughter moved with the rich youths. Every clique navigated to their venue of choice among the plentiful options. The more popular spots drew lines that spilled into the sidewalk.
‘And I’m here for work?’ He sighed and smoothed out the black plastic suit he wore – the most expensive one from his collection of suits.
He winked at a lady in a red dress, she ignored him and Ray Dawn twisted his head as she brushed past as if to get a view of her ass. Then tipped his head back forward and continued his march.
‘If she’s following me. She’s fucking good.’
He’d walked the last few blocks to his destination, trying to bait out Grieselda but nothing. If she was investigating him she had to be following him after hours but he’d yet to get the even faintest glimpse of her.
Maybe she wasn’t a sleeper sent to sting him, the world didn’t revolve around him or maybe she was playing the long game.
He vented a long sigh and rubbed at the bags underneath eyes. ‘Or maybe I’m too paranoid.’
He pulled up at his destination. The Rouge Lounge was an 80 storey building and if the outside was anything to go by. The place seemed more like a high end hotel than a brothel. Nothing like the whorehouses he frequented in Hillbrow.
He made for the tinted glass doors and they sliced apart to let him in. The entrance blossomed into a brown interiored lobby. Light brown tiles, brown leather couches, sharp edged rosewood tables and a mega piece of a floating chandelier with bright lights emitting a complementary yellow hue.
‘They employ some high end security.’
Guards were scattered haphazardly around the lobby. He could feel their eyes on him but their surveillance wasn’t so overt it could make one uncomfortable, an amateur wouldn’t even realize they were observing.
He strolled up to the counter, enclosed within a glass barrier. Opted for the fourth receptionist amongst the five available.
She had a brunette crew cut, flat nose and blanked out eyes synonymous with virtual diving. But the fact that she was standing meant she wasn’t fully submerged.
She was in a tight, black, low-cut dress that let loose a portion of her chest. She also had a flow-ink tattoo, an intricately patterned snake.
Ray Dawn watched it spiral down her neck unto her cleavage where it chased its own tail in a figure eight motion. It lingered there, hypnotically flowing between her breasts.
The ink snake eventually gave up the chase, flowed up her shoulder and disappeared down her back.
He blinked his weary eyes, slightly dazed. He hadn’t seen flow-ink used in such an interesting sequence of motions before.
“Hello,” Ray Dawn called and knocked on the glass barrier shielding the receptionist.
“Huh?”
She was browsing through the virtual network so it took a moment for her eyes to focus on him. She quickly took in the sight of him, scanned her eyes over his plastic suit with a practiced cursory glance.
‘And she isn’t impressed.’
Though she did well to conceal the results of her assessment.
He’d opted against flashing his cybermage status it tended to magically shut people up. Thanks to all the rumours about them brainwashing people.
“Greetings.” She manufactured a smile. “And welcome to The Rouge Lounge. I believe this is sir’s first time here.”
“Hmm.”
“The Rouge Lounge has a wide range of services. To your right we have a bar with exotic dancers for a small entrance fee. You can look but don’t—”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Ray Dawn raised an apologetic palm, cutting off her sales pitch. “I’ve been to your site. I’d like a room please.”
She bent him an unbothered smile, tapped on the smart counter. A virtual screen popped up over the glass barrier, loaded with profiles on every prostitute.
“See if any of our room servants meet your fancy.”
Ray Dawn regarded the screen. Each room servant’s profile had a name, pictures, a list of services and their prices.
He swiped the glass and scrolled down the screen. The profiles varied but were almost equally divided between men, women and every gender in between. There was even a curvaceous cyborg that checked his every box.
The cyborg’s light skinned face was still intact but was fitted mirrored lenses instead of eyes. She had a mechanical neck and shoulders holding up augmented breasts.
Ray Dawn’s robotic eye covertly snapped a photo for evidence and he cycled through more of the cyborg’s pictures. He trembled at a picture of the cyborg sticking out her steel studded tongue and he had to stifle a hormonal grunt, play it off as clearing his throat.
His impression of The Rouge Lounge instantly shot up a few notches. Cyborgs were an acquired taste and not many brothels sought out their employment.
‘Why more people don’t appreciate that cold metallic touch, that robotic love making precision only a cyborg can give—’
Ray Dawn rubbished the thought and rubbed his heavy eyes.
‘Focus, focus.’
He calmed himself and continued scrolling down, not sure what he was looking for. He doubted Carrasco came for the bar and strippers.
‘He must’ve been seeing someone here.’
But it was impossible to tell who.
“A friend of mine recommended this place,” Ray Dawn said. “He also recommended a room servant but I’m having trouble recalling who. Could you check his records for me?”
Her lips curved into an apologetic smile that wasn’t apologetic. “I’m afraid I can’t share any of our clients purchase history. You can com-link him and ask. I’ll wait.”
Ray Dawn chuckled dryly. “He’s blocking his communications, must be in a meeting.”
Ray Dawn loaded his wave control software and planted a few thoughts into her psyche.
‘He seems like a trustworthy guy.’
‘I should help him out.’
‘Make an exception, just this once.’
She frowned, stared at him for a while. A struggling expression on her face. His tampering echoed in the back of her mind as if the thoughts were her own.
“I don’t normally do this,” she said. “But I’ll make an exception for you.”
Ray Dawn placed a hand on his chest, tipped his head down in a show of gratitude.
“What’s his name?”
“Carrasco Reyar.”
She tapped on the smart counter and chuckled to herself. “Why am I not surprised,” she muttered to herself. “He was seeing Madam Rouge.”
Ray Dawn scrolled to the last profile and loaded Madam Rouge’s file.
“Madam Rouge.”
He mumbled the name, eyes wide at the prices. It wasn’t the cost, money wasn’t an issue, compared to other GCPD officers Ray Dawn could be considered rich.
Amassed a fortune by skimming credits from every credit scammer he’d ever busted.
What shocked him was the disparity between her prices and the other prostitutes. It was like that of heaven and earth.
“The owner and our biggest attraction,” the receptionist said noting his piqued interest.
He lingered on Madam Rouge’s picture. A mature woman, long braided neon hair, caramel skin with soft features. She was gorgeous but so where the other hookers. They all had work done. Used the best bio-cosmetics the BioWear Corporation had to offer.
What set her apart?
‘Besides being the owner.’
What service did she offer that the rest of the hookers couldn’t replicate.
‘Besides being the owner.’
Ray Dawn checked her services again. She didn’t offer any of the hardcore stuff but otherwise her list of services was pretty standard just at exorbitant prices.
‘I guess fucking the owner of such a successful establishment has its appeal.’
Was she why Carrasco was attracted back here time and time again? Despite knowing better as an agent.
He winced at the prices and eventually pointed at the cheapest service at the minimum time allocation. A 15 minute lapdance at the whooping cost of 70 000 credits.
Ray Dawn sighed and shook his head. At the same price he could’ve gotten at least 100 lapdances in Hillbrow.
‘Way more depending on how high and desperate they were.’
When it comes to hookers cheap and dirty is the way to go, his Ma had taught him.
‘Might as well get a girlfriend for these prices.’
Paying so much for a bit of dry humping wasn’t economical.
‘But I am here for work,’ he reminded himself.
The receptionist tapped on the counter. “I can fit you in next week Friday at 15:00.”
“There’s a waiting list?”
“She’s quite popular,” the receptionist said, a hint of jealousy in her eyes.
“Okay book it. But contact me if an earlier slot opens.”
“It won’t,” she said from an experienced place. “It’s better to pay upfront so we can’t give up your slot to a customer who offers to pay more.”
Ray Dawn pursued his lips and whistled.
‘She really is popular.’
“Okay,” he said.
“Virtual payment or DNA scan?”
“Neither. You take credit chips?”
“We do.” She chuckled.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She waved a hand. “Just most of our married customers don’t want our name showing up on their account transfers.”
Ray Dawn remained silent. He couldn’t be bothered to explain he wasn’t married or that he stored all his stolen funds into credit chips.
The receptionist lifted a pay point from underneath the counter, locked in the price and pushed it toward him.
Ray Dawn inserted the credit chip into the port, watched as the payment processed then extracted the chip. He swirled to depart but paused mid-turn.
Excluding Madam Rouge’s crazy prices, the place was still relatively expensive compared to what he was used to so Ma wouldn’t have approved such expensive purchases. Cheap and dirty she had always preached.
‘But since I’m already here.’
He glanced back at the receptionist. “Is that cyborg readily available?”
“Vendar, I’ve never known her not to be. An acquired taste that one.”