David Garnet - Bikini Planet

In the past fifty hours, the island seemed to have doubled in size, with four times as many soaring red buildings. During that time, Norton was busy arranging his own wedding. The hardest part was coming up with a form of words Kiru would agree to. “Obey” had to go, as did “honour,” and she wasn’t even very enthusiastic about “love.”

Then Diana told him, “Keep it very short. After the banquet, our new partners will be eager to sample what they’ve bought for their money.”

“I can’t imagine them being eager about anything,” said Norton. “You made a deal?”

“We came to a mutually advantageous conclusion,” said Diana.

They were in the plaza where the first restaurant had stood. By now, there was another on each corner. In the centre of the square was a ring of tables, and Caphafers in blue bikinis were covering them with red cloths.

Negotiations had taken place inside the building nearest the sea. Although it was of exactly the same shade of red, this construction was smaller than most of the others. It was a steep pyramid, and it was also the only building with any windows. These were crescent-shaped, dropping down each angled side in a single row from the apex.

The entrance was arched, and outside were the seven delegates from the Galactic Tax Authority. They stood in a neat line. Instead of gazing up at the impressive sights of Cafe World, their heads were bowed.

“Miserable bunch,” said Norton. “Do we have to invite them to the wedding?”

“It’s more a case of them inviting you to their banquet,” said Diana. “We eat first, then come all the speeches, and—”

“Yeah, I’ve written out my speech.”

Diana glanced at him. “Your speech?”

“Yeah.” Norton nodded. “The groom always makes a speech, I told you that.”

“You also said the bride’s father makes a speech. I liked Kiru’s idea of repeating the last thing her father ever said to her. What was it exactly? Yes, I remember. It was, Ahhhhhhhhhhhh … /” Diana stared up, all around, then over at the alien tax collectors. “The speeches will be about the future of Cafe World. We have the banquet, the speeches, then the wedding. A fast wedding.”

Instead of being a highlight of the festivities, the marriage had been rescheduled as after-dinner entertainment. Norton said nothing. There was no point. If he protested, it might be cancelled. All that mattered was that he and Kiru would be wed, their lives entwined for as long as they lived.

“Where’s your knife and tomahawk?” he said, studying Diana’s outfit. She wasn’t dressed up for the wedding, he realised, but for her high-powered business conference.

“There are no armaments on the whole island,” said Diana. “Carrying weapons to peace talks sends the wrong signals.”

Norton thought of making some remark about smoke signals, but said instead, “What about the warpaint?”

Diana opened her violin case, checking her face in the mirror. Blue and white and red lines were daubed across her cheeks and forehead.

“They don’t know it’s warpaint,” she said. “Not that it is. We’re partners now, allies.”

“Colleagues?” said Norton. “Friends?”

“Who could be friends with a taxperson?” said Diana, watching them. “I’ve spent hours with them, and I don’t even know their names.”

The aliens were all small and slender, almost entirely clad in black. They wore black gloves over their hands, each of which had two thumbs and five fingers. Only their heads were uncovered, although their eyes were protected by black goggles.

“Palefaces,” said Norton.

Diana nodded. “That’s a good name for them. They’re all identical, all anonymous, all apparently of equal rank. The location of their native planet is a secret, probably because they’re scared of reprisals. From all the evidence—the way they cover their eyes, their translucent skin—their race is nocturnal, maybe from a planet where it’s always dark.”

“So you’ve brought them to a world where it’s always light, and you’re making them sit outside for a banquet?”

“Yes,” said Diana. “Ah, here’s your bride. Right on time.”

Barefoot, long red hair cascading down to her white bikini top, Kiru walked across from the other side of the plaza. Norton couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and he wasn’t the only one. An autocam swooped down to encircle her. Kiru noticed Norton watching, and she slipped one of the straps off her shoulder, pouted and blew a kiss to the camera.

When she reached Norton, he leaned forward to kiss her. She sprang aside, laughing.

“Wait till we’re married,” she said.

“You look fantastic,” he said.

“I know.”

He’d never seen her hair like this, so glossy, and in long ringlets. Her lips were redder than ever before, her eyelashes darker. She’d also painted her fingernails. White. Her toenails were the same. To match her bikini, he realised.

In her other role as Colonel Travis, Diana had worn white nail varnish. Kiru must have borrowed it. For the first time since Norton had known her, she had access to makeup.

“And me?” said Norton, gesturing to his own clothes.

He was finally wearing the suit he’d designed on Hideaway, and he wished Princess Janesmith could have been the seamstress. His outfit had been fabricated on Caphmiaultrelvossmuaf, and although it looked right, almost, it simply didn’t feel right. He guessed the suit was made from fish skins. Whatever the case, it was the least worst thing he’d worn since his resurrection.

Kiru looked at him, shook her head, sighed, shrugged, then scanned the plaza. “Where is everyone?”

“Enjoying themselves,” said Diana. “Neuroscapes, sex salons, mindlay. All for free.”

“And your new partners?” said Norton.

“They’re enjoying themselves most of all. Those guys really know how to party.”

The seven tax delegates were still standing in line. They hadn’t moved, not a muscle.

Diana continued, “We don’t expect our invited guests to give up all the other pleasures on the planet for the banquet, but each place will be filled by members of our corporation.”

“Pirates,” said Kiru.

“Architects, builders, consultants, every letter of the alphabet,” said Diana.

“Arsonists, burglars, conmen,” said Kiru.

Before she could continue, Norton said, “We don’t get married until the very end.”

“Might as well go for a swim while I’m waiting,” Kiru said, and she took a few steps toward the sea.

She’d spent several of the past fifty hours in the sea and had tried to entice Norton into the water, telling him that Caphmiaultrelvossmuaf was the ideal place to learn to swim. He hadn’t been persuaded.

“If you don’t take your seat,” said Diana, “someone else will.”

“Stay,” said Norton, who was very worried about who that someone else might be.

Kiru turned back.

Diana raised her right arm and snapped her fingers. Within a few seconds of her signal, a group of people appeared from around one corner, another from the opposite direction. Human and various humanoid aliens, they took their places around the tables. Diana walked across to collect her new partners, and a Caphafer approached Kiru and Norton.

“Have I the privilege, madam and sir, of addressing the bride and groom?” said the native.

“Er… yeah,” said Norton.

“Please follow me to your table.”

The red amphibian led Kiru and Norton to their seats. They shared a table with eight others: Diana and the seven alien tax officials.

It was the longest meal Norton had ever sat through in his long life. Literally, figuratively and gastronomically.

However brief the meal, it would have seemed to last ages because he was so anxious about the wedding ceremony.