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  “But…” Sadie sat up straighter and struggled to drag her mind onto less X-rated subjects. “But if Xavier is out of the picture…”

  “But his double-crossin' partner Red Mike is still out there,” Blakely pointed out. “And about a hundred other pirates that'd be more than willing to mind rape any innocent colonists they could lay hands on for the prices I'm sure Van Heusen's payin' out for black market brains.”

  “Blake's right,” Holt said, grimly. “Van Heusen's got the only illegal flesh tank operation big enough for mass production in the System, I'd bet my badge on it. We put him out of business, we put the mind rapers out of business. Van Heusen's the key. We've got back up on the way but we've got to catch him red-handed. The question is how to make the sting.”

  Sadie began to feel interested. Suddenly, the Solar Pulitzer seemed like a distinct possibility again. “Listen, boys.” She looked from Holt to Blakely. “Remember how I told you I'd be willing to do some undercover work when I signed on to this gig? Well, I think I've got an idea…”

  Chapter 15

  Roald Van Heusen was the most notorious drug lord and prostie-pimp in the Solar System and somehow he always managed to stay one step ahead of the law. Prosecuted but never convicted he had credit to spare and his base of operations showed it, Blakely thought. Van Heusen had built himself a pleasure palace on the dark side of Iapetus complete with its own atmosphere dome and mercury flare lighting to keep the daemons at bay. As the landing craft touched down beside it and the modular flexi seal hugged the dome's entrance, Blakely whistled.

  “Hey, Holt, looks like crime does pay.” He admired the gaudy structure made entirely of costly Old Earth marble imported at unimaginable expense. It sat in the middle of the atmosphere dome looking like a wedding cake lit up from within. The illegal flesh tanks were probably well hidden somewhere under the lavish structure, Blakely speculated. Even on the dark side of Iapetus, Van Heusen wouldn't be bold enough to have them right out in the open.

  “Wonder how many colonists he had to mind rape to build this place,” Holt said darkly. “Back-up's standing by?”

  “Got a crawler over the ridge,” Blakely reassured him, nodding at the large, stony outcropping about half a mile to their left. Very faintly, he could see the wink of the vehicle's lights but the intense glow of the mercury flares around Van Heusen's dome ought to drown them out until the crawler was right on top of the compound. “All we gotta do is make the bust,” he assured Holt.

  “So…” Sadie unbuckled her harness and scooted to the front of the craft. “All we've got to do is to get Van Heusen to show us the flesh tanks and admit they're his?”

  “Got it in one, sweetheart,” Blakely told her, patting his chest where the tiny voice activated recording device was secreted. “We just have to get it all on the listen chip and see the tanks. The minute we do that we'll signal the back-up and he's fried.”

  He was trying unsuccessfully to keep his eyes off her but it was damn hard to do. Sadie was 'undercover' posing as a prostie-borg and the outfit she had on certainly showed off her considerable assets to the best advantage. A bright red dress made of some soft, gauzy material clung to her full breasts and floated around her softly rounded thighs. The dress scooped low in the front, showing the creamy inside curve of her cleavage and parted alluringly in front to reveal a pair of tiny black satin panties that barely covered the golden strip of hair that decorated her honeyed sex. Blakely, remembering the delicious salty-sweet flavor of her cunt, longed to drop to his knees and bury his face between her thighs. To make her moan and beg for more as he had the other night while Holt tended to her breasts.

  But it was not to be, no matter how much he wanted it. Sadie just wasn't into it and Blakely could hardly blame her. Holt was right, nice girls didn't want what they had to offer. He supposed the idea of a three-way commitment was just a little too strange for most women to handle. He just wished he hadn't fallen so hard for her and encouraged his partner to do the same. Still, they had gotten over failed romances before and they would again. It just might take longer this time because of the bond.

  Sighing, he popped the latch on the landing craft and said, “Well, everybody out.”

  Thanks to a vid-call, from a friend of Snuggly's who owed the big Garon a favor, they were expected. An armed squadron of identical male flesh-bots, all bald and with a gold hoop through the right nostril, led by a mechanical captain was waiting to escort them to Van Heusen. After a quick but thorough pat down to be sure they were unarmed, Blakely and Holt walked behind the squad, heads up, alert for anything and Sadie, a carefully blank look on her face, trailed behind them. They were supposed to be wealthy research scientists in the field of cyber-biology and they had dressed the part in synthisilk clothes and real jizard skin boots. Holt even had on a cape. Blakely always admired how well his partner played rich and disdainful but he supposed it came naturally to the blond man considering his background.

  They walked through an echoing marble foyer and down a long hall carpeted in real wool, another expensive import, before they came to a real wood door that was twice as high and three times as wide as Blakely was tall. Mmm, he thought, Van Heusen really likes puttin' on the dog. The cost of importing this door alone was probably more than he saw in a year as a detective on Old Earth.

  The mechanical captain pushed a recessed switch and, with a low rumble, the immense door began to slide into the wall, revealing a cavernous room. Blakely half expected to see a golden throne sitting at the end of the huge room but instead, there was an old fashioned fire place with some plush, antique-looking couches and chairs scattered in front of it. Blakely wouldn't have been surprised to find out the furniture was imported directly from some fancy French court on Old Earth. There was a bear-skin rug on the floor that Blakely hoped was antique; all species of bear had long been on the endangered list. Apparently, Van Heusen had spared no expense to make himself at home here on Iapetus.

  The mechanical captain escorted them across the vast expanse of marble floor to the fireplace and when they got a little nearer Blakely could see a lean shape sitting in one of the high-backed antique chairs.

  Roald Van Heusen, an elderly man thin to the point of emaciation sat beside a fireplace big enough to roast a bull in, sipping a snifter of aged brand y and looking like an ad for the good life. The firelight played across his lean features and his quiet, conservative clothing and finely molded features marked him as a man of good breeding—a man of taste. Only the diamond ring on the thumb of his left ha nd that was too large and vulgar to be anything but real spoke of his wealth. Has to be at least six and a half carats. Maybe seven. Blakely eyed the diamond and wondered how much debilitatingly addictive Syntho-narc you had to sell to be able to afford such a nice bauble. How many innocent colonists you had to sell into a life of sexual bondage.

  “Mister Van Heusen, these are Mr. Night and Mr. Day, the investors you were expecting, sir.” The mechanical captain had a surprisingly smooth voice, like an English butler on one of the old culture vids Blakely had watched as a kid.

  “Thank you, Parkins. You may go.” Van Heusen waved a dismissive hand and the mechanical captain made a well-oiled bow and hovered away. “So,” he turned to Blakely and Holt, a sardonic little grin on his thin lips. “Mister 'Night' and Mister 'Day', eh?” Using such obvious pseudonyms was guaranteed to get Van Heusen's attention and let him know they were as anxious as he was to keep their business dealings quiet.

  “I'm Night, he's Day,” Blakely said, giving a quick half-nod to Holt. Van Heusen took in Holt's blond good looks to Blakely's dark intensity with an amused glance.

  “But of course you are; the names suit you. And who is this lovely creature that I see with you?” he asked courteously, nodding at Sadie who stood perfectly silent and still behind them.

  “This, or rather she, is the reason we're here, Mr. Van Heusen.” Holt nodded stiffly and gestured for Sadie to come closer. Moving so smoothly it looked like she was gliding on air s