1 A Farce of a Funeral

In truth, Vincent Gabel liked funerals. In 2158 they were rare; a luxury that only the wealthy or obsessively traditional could afford. Vincent had attended his fair share of funerals, but even he had to admit, the DeBlasse funeral was a sight to behold.

The ancient eighteenth-century cathedral was strewn with dripping silver candles and wreaths of fat heliotropes no doubt flown straight from Flora 1. A plush stripe of carpet rolled down the aisle; dividing the two rows of aged, wooden pews. It led to a raised platform that held Arianne DeBlasse's closed casket, trimmed with white ribbons and lace; feigning an air of innocence that struggled to mask the crudeness that was death.

Arianne's grandfather, Senator DeBlasse stood behind a lectern as he conducted the ceremony. His level voice carried down the church with practised authority as he read his speech; that had most likely been written by his secretary. Matthew DeBlasse hovered beside his father, an arm around his grieving wife. Her sickly thin body, no doubt the result of severe enhancements and a restricting diet, was forced into a belted wrap dress - the lapels of her collar raised to cover her neck and draw attention to the gaudy square diamond balanced in the hollow of her throat. The couple, huddled and weeping, would elicit sympathy from naive onlookers, but the sight of invited reporters and journalists clinging to the front and sides of the cathedral shattered the facade of a heartbroken family. Sure, the media could sell the image of a strong grandfather with arms wrapped protectively around his son's mourning family, but every high-ranking officer and politician could sense the simmering tensions underneath this play.

As Senator DeBlasse's speech came to a conclusion, murmurs rose from the press as they glanced furtively between the envoy sent by the Emperor and Senator DeBlasse; impatiently waiting for the drama that would ensue. But to their disappointment, Commander in Chief Gabel rose from his seat at the back and exited the cathedral.

Boarding a sleek spacecraft emblazoned with the Eldridge imperial insignia, Vincent sunk into a seat and clicked open his communicator.

"He knew." A soft hum came from the person on the other end of the call.

"Used his granddaughter to distribute them. Directs the blame away from himself."

"Explains the result of the autopsy."

Vincent nodded and the man on the screen glanced at him. "Should I be paying more attention to the Red Light District?" A hint of amusement could be heard in the question. Vincent didn't even deign to reply.

"Don't stop his operation." Finnegan heard a grunt of acknowledgement and the communicator display closed down.

Vincent leaned backwards to recline his seat and when he had achieved a comfortable position, closed his eyes in thought. The Red Light District. It was no longer a district in the sense of a confined area of land. After reorganising the corrupt government and subduing civil unrest left by the festering rule of his uncle, a semblance of stability had been achieved by the new Emperor Finnegan Eldridge. And there soon bloomed the Red Light District in the centre of 'Garden', the capital of the Empire. Pleasures in sedentary flesh always seemed to be desired by humanity despite generations of evolution that were stripping us of our weaknesses. These services expanded beyond seedy brothel houses that commoditised sex to companionships that thrived on exchanges of indulgence. Prostitution was by far one of the oldest professions dating back to the eighteenth century but even with the technological advancements in health and security, it was still a dangerous business. The killing of companions was frequent enough to be considered common. And that then begged the question of why Senator DeBlasse would allow his beloved granddaughter to enter this profession, not in concern for her well-being, but the loss of face among the elites and in front of his political opponents. Arianne hadn't needed the wealth it provided her, and her clients were by no means wealthy; it seemed she only saw men from the middle class. Most likely it was the thrill. Breaking away from the confines of societal expectations. Breaking a law that could send her whole family to a planet of exile.

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