Logbook entry

The Olive Grove - "A Cause For Celebration"

16 Jan 2018Jemine Caesar
1st November, 3303



Jemine took a deep breath.

This is it, Jem, she thought. This is the moment, more than any other, when you finally turn your back on life as a spacer. Your future is here now. Don’t fuck it up.

She unlocked the door that was the main entrance to The Olive Grove, Citi Gateway’s newest attraction. A pleasure house. Her pleasure house. Jemine Caesar, former pilot, was now a brothel madam.

Behind Jemine stood some of her employees, alluringly-dressed women of various ages, all ready to work a shift in the galaxy’s oldest profession. To one side, behind the reception podium, stood the senior Meet-and-Greeter, Suki Hai.

“The neon sign is on,” said Suki. “Good luck, Miss Jemine.”

Suki’s words were echoed by a chorus of encouraging female voices. Jemine threw a glance back towards the girls, smiled and crossed her fingers.

“Here goes..."

Smiling, Jemine opened the door to reveal a group of men waiting patiently in the concourse. She recognised the familiar smirks of expectation on the faces of each, then stepped aside to allow her customers to enter. First through the door was the young man she had briefly spoken with less than an hour before.

“Hello, Max,” she said. “Welcome to The Olive Grove. Your pleasure is our pleasure.”

“Come on, then,” replied Max, taking a step towards Jemine. “Where do we do it?”

Jemine blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

The young man’s face twisted into a smirk. “You know what I mean. Where do we do it? I suppose there’s a bedroom or something?”

“Yes, of course there’s a bedroom. Several, in fact, just through that door. But— “

“Right, let’s get on with it.”

Grabbing Jemine by the hand, Max began to walk purposefully towards the door which led to the central corridor. Jemine pulled him back.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “An experience like The Olive Grove isn't something you should rush. Wouldn’t you like a drink first?  We have a small but fully stocked bar— “

“Naaah,” said Max. “I don’t need a drink.”

Jemine nodded. “All right. But give your name to Suki first. She’ll arrange for one of the girls to come to you. Now, which would you prefer? Blonde? Redhead? Tall? Short?”

“Brunette,” replied the young man, eyeing Jemine’s brown hair. “And about your height. You, in fact. I want you. You are a hooker, ain't you?”

“I’m sorry, Max,” said Jemine. “As I believe I told you earlier, I’m not available. But there are other girls you can pick from. Joolee, for instance. She’s about your age. Very pretty, and very experienced.”

Max shook his head. “And as I believe I   told you  earlier, I’ve picked you. I’m the customer ‘ere, don’t forget. So what’s the problem? My money not good enough for you or something?”

Jemine took a quick glance around the reception area. The group of men who had been waiting outside were now standing with cheesy grins on their faces, watching her and Max. Suki had already paired them up with some of the girls, but for the time being they seemed more interested in what was going on in the reception area.

“Look, Max, the thing is, I’m the owner of the club. It wouldn’t be right for me to— “

“The owner?” said the young man, smiling more broadly than ever. “That’s even better! Not only do I get to have first bonk in a brand new brothel, I also get to bonk the boss. Best birthday ever!”

Jemine blinked. “It’s your birthday?”

“Yep. As of a couple of minutes ago. Today, the first of November 3303, is my eighteenth birthday. Me and my uncle Kenny spent all day yesterday in the rings, mining. We made a packet. Uncle Kenny gave me a big cut and told me to treat myself on my birthday. So here I am, and you’re my birthday treat!”

Max dug one hand into a pocket of his flight jacket. He brought out a credit chip and held it up for Jemine to view. The amount on the chip’s tiny display screen made her jaw drop. She’d just been offered more money than she would have made in a whole year back home. Perhaps even in five years...

“Max,” she said, “You’re eighteen years old. I’m thirty...”

“That’s OK,” came the quick reply. “I prefer older women.”

Great, thought Jemine, so now I’m an older woman. She glanced at the credit chip in the eager young man’s hand, and bit her lip.

I really shouldn’t, but...

“Uncle Kenny says a good ship’s captain would never ask his crew to do anything he wouldn’t do himself. Well, I reckon the same ought to go for a brothel madam. Don’t you?”

Jemine let out a soft sigh. “I suppose it ought.”

Spinning slowly on her heel, she moved with swaying hips to the door leading to the bedrooms. She turned and tilted her head to what was suddenly a very nervous-looking boy. With a coy smile and an arched eyebrow, she opened the door and beckoned The Olive Grove's first client to follow.

“Happy birthday, dear Max...”
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