“She is expected,” the closest of the two said in a gruff, no-nonsense voice.
The guards who had escorted her simply nodded and headed back the way they came, leaving Maureen alone with the two burly men. They looked her over quickly and seemed quite unimpressed.
“Vice Quaestor Tormik lives on the top level,” the guard said. “You will use the servants’ lift through those doors. Give me your wrist.”
Maureen held out her arm. He snapped a thin bracelet around it, the metal sealing into an unbroken band as soon as he closed it.
“This gives you access to the lift and servant areas. It is bio-locked to your body. No one else can use it, even if they take your arm off.”
“Wait a second. Has that actually happened?” she blurted, unable to contain her curiosity.
“Once. But the intruders failed miserably.”
“You killed them?”
“We did not have to. They were sent to the tournament as fodder for the champions. Now, enough talking. You are to go to Vice Quaestor Tormik’s residence and begin your service at once, is that clear?”
“Yes.”
“Do not wander. Do not speak unless spoken to. And above all else, do what you are told.”
“I understand. Thank you.”
The guard did not reply, shifting his attention back to the entryway he and his associate were protecting.
“Okay then. I’ll be going,” Maureen said, then headed to the lift.
It was an open circular platform with a thin but strong railing. She wondered how it turned on and how she would tell it which floor to go to, but as it began to move she realized it must have recognized the band on her wrist.
In a flash the platform sped upward until it reached the top level. Maureen stumbled off, her feet a little unsteady after the abrupt ride. She scoped out the landing. There was a corridor heading either direction but there was a large double door directly in front of her.
“Am I supposed to find a servants’ entrance?” she wondered aloud just as the front door opened.
A wispy-thin pale green humanoid woman in a work outfit similar to hers stepped out to greet her. She had slightly darker hair than her skin, but top to bottom she was green. Even her irises were green, but a bright, striking shade.
“The new one, I see. They said your name was Mahreen.”
“Maureen,” she corrected.
“Noted. I’m Vaxxa. You’ll meet the others soon enough. But there will be time for that later. Hurry up and follow me, we need an extra set of hands and you’re just in time.”
“In time for what?” she asked as the green woman led her inside.
With the faintest hint of a sigh, Vaxxa’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “You’ll see.”
Maureen followed Vaxxa inside, closing the door behind her. Some strange sounds were audible, echoing through the vast hallways, but Maureen was too busy gawking at the place she would be calling home to really pay attention to them.
“Whoa,” she gasped quietly as she caught glimpses of different rooms and chambers as they hurried down the corridor.
If the overall building itself was a prime display of designers and architects sparing no cost, the interior of Vice Quaestor Tormik’s personal residence was an even more resplendent monument to his wealth. Maureen didn’t know much about Mondarian artwork, but she felt confident the pieces lining the walls likely cost a fortune even as they bordered on gaudy in their opulence.
The sounds were getting clearer as they moved through the property. Grunting, low and erratic, and higher pitched squeals a-plenty.
“Hang on. Are they—” she began to ask as Vaxxa guided her through an arched doorway into a dimly lit room.
There were sofa beds and couches as well as other seating areas all throughout, but none were being used for so basic a purpose.
A large, soft-fleshed Mondarian was buck naked, fully erect—though his member was not impressive at all from what Maureen could see of it—plowing away at one of the four alien females laid out before him. All were different, in coloring as well as morphology, though they were all roughly humanoid in form.
