In a protective gesture, I position myself before Doctor Rhys, swiftly drawing my 0ME knife. The flat black blade hums slightly as I prepare to defend against the potential threat. The atmosphere intensifies, charged with caution and readiness as I stand poised, ready to protect myself and my companions. Fuck, I wish I had my pistol.

“Tex, get Doc the fuck out of here. I don’t know what the fuck that thing is.”

“Rest easy, Nathan,” Tex said. “That's a 10-meter saltwater crocodile bio-bot. I have deactivated it.” The giant creature’s mouth snapped shut with an audible crack. "Whoever created this bio-bot guessed at what a living saltwater crocodile might have looked like."

"What do you mean Tex?"

“Nathan, all of the various crocodilian species has been extinct for almost 550 standard years. It seems someone around here is playing a dangerous practical joke. They might have lost an expensive toy if they attempted this with the mercenaries we encountered earlier.”

As I get to know Tex better, I understand they tend to over-explain things.

Doctor Rhys’ dark eyes are flinty as she glares at me. “Nathan, you are quick with that knife and did it again. I do not need any yippee ki-yay macho bull shit from you,” Dr. Rhys said as she painfully slapped my arm. "Vai tomar no cu!"

"Hey! No fucking swearing at me in Brazilian!"

"It's Portuguese you moron!"

“I apologize, Doc. My tendency to play the white knight stems from my deep-seated complex, a desire to protect and intervene.”

“Just remember that I am not completely helpless.” With an enticing sway of her hips, she elegantly lifts the hem of her dress, revealing more of her alluring, thick, smooth, dusky thighs. As the dress ascends, a holster strapped to the middle of her left thigh exposes a small, ugly black needler. It also disclosed that she was not wearing any underwear.

“I didn't know you were carrying a gun. How the fuck are you supposed to get to that, Doc?”

“Nathan, if I find myself in a situation requiring my needler, forget about the dress. You may have noticed that Erosians are not particularly known for their modesty. I will not hesitate to tear my dress open, unconcerned about exposing myself if it means accessing my needler quickly.”

"That's a very attractive dress, Doc," I remarked, my gaze appreciating her curvy figure. "I’d hate to see you ruin it."

“Thank you, Nathan.” I am glad he appreciates my dress. I hope his liking extends to the woman wearing it, especially considering the bombshell I will drop regarding his precious nickel corvette.

While on the path, Nathan observed Tex maintaining an unwavering focus on the crocodile bio-bot until Doc and I were deep in the forest, away from the lake shore.

As we strolled down the leaf- and pine needle-strewn path, the air thick with the earthy scent of damp soil and decaying wood, towards the heart of the Grove, we encountered a man. Artificial sunlight dappled through the dense canopy, catching the pristine white of his toga, which was dramatically accented with a bold, deep purple trim that seemed to absorb the surrounding light. The sunlight reflected off his strappy gold sandals. The soft crunch of our footsteps on the fallen leaves on the pavers was the only sound in the hushed tranquility.

He sits atop a young white horse, about 14 hands tall, its hooves clad in shoes that occasionally produce sparks as they strike the walkway. Seeing us, the man stopped the horse. The impatient horse paws at the ground, creating a rhythmic ring on the paving bricks. 

The horse lets out a spirited whinny, shaking its head and tossing its long mane in a display of untamed energy. Positioned on her stomach across the horse's back, near the base of the horse's neck and in front of the man, is a naked blonde woman. Her hands and feet are securely bound with sturdy cords.

A hackamore-style headgear, distinct from traditional bridles, attaches to the reins. Seated in what my uncle disparagingly labeled "some fool's idea of an English-style riding saddle," the pale brown-haired man exuded an air of eccentricity. 

The sharp, earthy scent of horse, a smell that prickles the nostrils, floods my senses, conjuring vivid images of sun-drenched afternoons and the rhythmic thud of hooves at my uncle's equestrian school. It's a scent laden with nostalgia and hints of the unfamiliar scene playing out in the Grove.

Having spent ample time around horses at my uncle's equestrian school, I'm all too acquainted with the less glamorous aspects of their existence, including the inevitable byproduct emerging from their ass. 

The mere thought of mucking stalls sends a shiver down my spine as I contemplate the unenviable task facing whoever gets assigned that chore. The practicalities of maintaining such an unusual sight in the arcology raise questions about the responsible caretakers and the meticulous efforts required to preserve the Grove's pristine beauty despite the equestrian addition.

Accustomed to the presence of horses during my early years on Earth, I find myself pleasantly surprised by the unexpected encounter with this majestic creature. The horse's inquisitive nature prompts it to nuzzle me, perhaps hoping for a treat. 

Fond memories of the horses at my uncle's equestrian school flood back, where the horses were partial to the allure of white sugar cubes. Regrettably, I lack any such delicacies in my pockets to indulge this beautiful creature.  

Recalling our naughty antics at my uncle's equestrian school brings back cherished memories. Back then, my cousins and I would secretly feed the horses inedible vegetables like carrots and celery, reveling in our covert acts of affection for these majestic creatures.

My uncle, a seasoned instructor in dressage and various advanced horse-riding techniques, imparted his knowledge and passion for equine arts to countless wealthy students. I often wonder if his school is still successful, a reminder of the lasting impact of a place once filled with the sounds of horses and carefree students passionate about riding.

“You have not seen any more of these luscious does running about, have you,” the rider asked, patting the woman on her naked ass with a silver headed braided leather quirt as if it is common to come across a man on horseback with a naked captive bound hand and foot.

“I told you that you were too fucking slow to catch anybody else, Jerrod,” the bound captive said. When she lifts her head, I notice she has vividly cold, ice-blue eyes. Her nearly yellow, long blonde hair is in a messy bun at the back of her head.

“Most of the other players have either quit or caught a doe or two of their own and are enjoying them. Like you should be enjoying me rather than riding around all night looking for another doe when you already have one.”

The captive doe appears unfazed by her predicament: her hands and feet are tied, and she lies naked on her stomach across the back of a horse. I wonder what game they are playing.

“Holly, were there very many does in this game,” Doctor Rhys asked.

"Oh, hello, Doctor Rhys. Not really. As usual, there are far more hunters than does. I believe that only about 20 or so does signed up, but there had to be at least 50 hunters." 

"So it was another sausage fest, typical," Dr. Rhys muttered.

“Not all hunters are on horseback like Jerrod, though. Most of us got bored waiting in line for hours at Caligula’s and figured a game of Does and Hunters sounded like a better way to pass the time rather than standing in line all night. Just my fucking luck. I got caught by a horse-born dud.”

Holly’s gaze lingers a bit too long on me. I feel like the special of the day paraded before the hungry diners. 

“You look like you could be fun. Want to pay my parole fee? You and I could go somewhere and fuck.” 

I'm shocked that this young woman just made a suggestive offer. Glancing down at my pocket, I realized my red Martian rose was missing.

“Umm... I appreciate the offer, but …”

“Here, Nathan, you dropped this,” Tex retrieved a lapel pin with a red pigeon blood garnet shaped like a Martian rose from their body and gently clipped it onto my jacket lapel.

“Thanks, Tex.”

"Madam, are you sure that you want Nathan wearing that lapel pin? You are essentially taking him out of circulation without asking him."

"Yes, Tex, I want him to wear the godsdamned pin."

“Oh,” Holly said. “Didn’t see that before. Sorry for me, though. If you change your mind, look me up. My last name is Rönnbäck. Or Doctor Rhys can give you my contact info. I have about another week on break, then I must bounce a shuttle back to Trinity Station to complete my last year of pre-med, and then it is off to Rebus Station for med school.” 

"I'm glad to hear that you are doing so well in school, Holly," Dr. Rhys said.

"Thank you for your support, Dr. Rhys. Is this the country club gigolo?" Holly asked.

Dr. Rhys blushes deeply. "No Holly. This is Captain Rourke."

"Oh. Hey I've heard of you. Didn't you fall like a cannonball from the arcologies to Slagville?"

"Yes I did, Holly," I said.

Holly turns her head as much as she can and looks at Jerrod. “Well, it looks like I am stuck with you. You better not be a three-pump chump again.”

 Seeing Nathan with the horse, I wonder if he wants one. I admit I fear the giant beast and cannot imagine getting on top of it. I do not particularly care for the horse’s smell, either.

Only the bored, idle, and stupendously wealthy would consider keeping such an expensive and impractical animal in a tiny colony like Eros. The cost of feeding alone would likely bankrupt most families.

With lifting costs at nearly 10,000 credits per kilo from a gravity well, keeping a horse is exceptionally pricey. Feeding and caring for animals, especially large ones on Eros, is very expensive and a sign of excessive wealth. It is a way for the super-wealthy to flaunt their wealth.

It's particularly relevant for those who wish to exert authority over others for the sake of power, no matter the financial implications. Humanity may have escaped Earth, but can never escape itself.

“Jerrod, are you pleased with a coed conquest younger than your daughter? Does it make you feel important and manly to chase a young woman down?” I winced. Poor Jerrod is catching the sharp edge of Doc’s tongue.

“It’s just a game, Doctor Rhys,” said Holly somewhat defensively.

Jerrod says nothing and merely nudges the horse with his heels. The couple on the horse quickly passed us. 

"Country club gigolo?"

Dr. Rhys blushes deeply again. "It was quite a few years ago, my dear Captain. He was just a DOL I was using when my fingers and toys were not enough."

 "Doll?"

"Stands for Dick on Legs. Only part of him that was of any interest or of use to me."

"Oh."

"It's not true that Erosians will fuck anything that moves, or sits still enough."

"I wasn't thinking that Doc." No, I remembered what her wet body looked like as she swam in her pool.

“Nathan, do you like horses,” Doctor Rhys asked, taking his left arm again and trying to change the subject. Tex silently followed them.

“I like horses, Doc, and even enjoyed riding them. I don’t enjoy their cost, maintenance and care. Have you ridden a horse before, Doc?”

“No, Nathan, I have never been on such an intimidating beast.”

My mind immediately goes right into the gutter, imagining a naked and bound Doctor Rhys in the place of the young woman on top of a horse. Attempting to reel in my treacherous mind, I try changing the subject.

“Doc, how did you know the naked young woman? Sorry, I have forgotten her name.”

"Nathan, Holly, is a promising and dedicated medical student with several years of experience by volunteering in my clinic. She is currently on what was traditionally known by the Revered Ancients as Spring Break."

"Spring Break for the Revered Ancients was a chaotic, weeks-long college vacation packed with parties, excessive alcohol- and drug-fueled celebrations, marked by plenty of gratuitous and anonymous sex and expressions of youthful freedom, and the repeated breaking of mostly inconsequential laws," Tex said.

"Daring. They still had capital punishment back then," I said.

"Our society has mostly moved past such barbaric punishments," Dr. Rhys said.

"Truth, Doc," I said. "Still, the irrefutable reality concerning the death penalty is its remarkably low recidivism rate. That is why it's still used on pirates and slavers."

"As a spaceship captain, your training includes understanding the conditions under which capital punishment is permissible."

"Correct. I went to college, Tex. We didn't have a spring break."

"That is because you went to the military like REC academy where they do not allow such wasteful breaks in education," Tex said.

"She will resume her studies at Trinity Station when the next semester begins. Holly majored in neuroscience and aims to specialize in cybernetics."

"Like you?"

"One of my degrees, yes. Holly is only in her early 30's, so she has a lot of life left ahead of her to further her medical knowledge and skills."

I am somewhat pleased that Nathan has forgotten the naked Holly. I know her parents well, and they spared no expense when they conceived their daughter. Her four fathers and six mothers availed themselves of every option, no matter the cost, ensuring they had a tall, beautiful, intelligent daughter.

Most Erosian children are not born into monogamous relationships. Erosian society considers monogamy outdated and bizarre.

Despite Erosian views, I still want a monogamous relationship again. I hope Nathan does as well.

“What about that game disturbs you, Doc?” 

Nathan’s question hauls my mind from the depressing thoughts of wanting my own child. 

“I thought you said you didn't mind getting tied up.”

“It is time and place, Nathan. I will not run naked through the woods, waiting for either a man or a group of men to capture me. That is not something that I would enjoy.”

“I bet Stravola likes that game.”

“Actually, Nathan, she does not care for it from what she has told me. Stravola likes to pick her men, not have them choose her.”

As we traverse the central part of the Grove, a serene hush envelops us, interrupted only by the rhythmic flapping of bats amid the trees. The forest maintains an eerie tranquility, with just enough light to guide us along the path.

“Madam, Nathan, you might wish to step further to your right. The horse left a large surprise on the path. I have alerted the cleaning crew, who should be dispatching someone quickly.” 

Stepping around the mound of fragrant horse manure, we both express our thanks to Tex. The smell of fresh horse shit reminds me of those unpleasant hours I spent mucking stalls. It is not an experience I wish ever to repeat.

We approach the forest's edge and encounter a lengthy queue forming outside a club. The club's entrance is adorned with stately white marble columns, showcasing imposing statues of a naked man and woman. Above them, a luminous holographic sign boldly declares the establishment as "Caligula's."

“Popular club.”

“Nathan, Caligula’s is one of the most popular Arcadian sex clubs. However, we are headed for a different venue.”

“Well, Doc, this evening just got very interesting. Didn’t think that a sex club would be something that you would be interested in.”

“You are right, Nathan. While I have standing invitations to Caligula's and another sex club, I do not typically frequent such places. In my younger years, I did visit a few sex clubs, but I soon grew weary of them. Unfortunately, my ex-husband routinely frequented such establishments, among other reasons that ultimately led to our divorce.”

“You have briefly mentioned your ex-husband before. He doesn’t sound like someone you would be with.”

“He possesses extraordinary expertise in neuroscience, cybernetics, and wetware surgery. When he puts in the effort, he can be quite charming. I was blinded to his true nature in my younger years, missing several warning signs. It was not until after marriage that the rose-tinted glasses violently came off, revealing his personality's manipulative and unpleasant side. My parents never cared for him.”

“From what little I have learned of you, Doc, I am not surprised that sex clubs are not a place you frequent.”

“You are right, Nathan; I do not have an affinity for sex clubs. In the early days of our marriage, my ex-husband convinced me, despite my extreme reluctance, to attend a couple of underground, illegal Martian sex clubs. Personally, I did not enjoy those establishments; my presence there was more a result of my husband's persistent whining and childish insistence. Unlike Eros, where such activities are legal, they are deemed illegal on Mars and contribute significantly to the criminal underworld.”

“Doc, I am surprised that you went to a sex club at all.”

“Nathan, I am not that conservative.” She shrugs her shoulders and sighs. “As a young woman, I was curious. Once was enough to satisfy my curiosity. The other times were because my ex-husband whined and pouted like a child until I gave in.” 

“You didn’t go to a sex club before you got married?”

She sighs again. “I had this stupid, silly notion that I should be a virgin at my wedding. That turned out to be a huge mistake. Raios me fodam, I even wore white for that filho da mãe.”

“Madam, you are swearing in your native Brazilian Portuguese. Be aware that he cannot follow what you say until we fix Nathan’s wetware and neural network.”

“Thank you for the reminder, Tex. You know that discussing my ex-husband pisses me off to no end.”

“Then why did you tell so much to Nathan?”

Disregarding the intrusive SP, I cozy up to the comforting warmth of Nathan's side, relishing our snug connection. As we approached our destination, I chose to open up to Nathan, sharing more details about my former husband and the ultimate dissolution of my marriage.

“My ex-husband engaged in secretive activities, frequenting underground sex clubs and indulging in illicit substances without my knowledge. Martian Vice apprehended him taking part in drug use at an unlawful sex club, where one of the so-called underage prostitutes was an undercover vice policewoman. Because of our influential family names and a substantial donation to the police retirement fund, I secured his release. I promptly filed for divorce the next day. Within a Martian year, I liquidated unnecessary possessions and relocated to Eros. Despite not being obligated, Tex chose to accompany me, a gesture I am eternally appreciative of.”

Tex discreetly shows me a datapad with a simple message: "Nathan, never ever unforgivably embarrass Madam as her ex-husband did." The words 'never' and 'ever' are emphasized with double underlines. I nod in acknowledgment, grasping the essence of Tex's caution.

“Thus, a guilty conscious doth make assholes of us all.”