John Ringo - Against the Tide

“Nothing useful,” Joel admitted. “I got the news that the hit was out just before the attack, far too short a time to do anything about it. The one survivor that was caught sang like a canary but he didn’t know anything. Barely knew the people he was with and they were all recruited from waterfront bars. ‘A man in a pub.’ Nothing to go on there. Bast apparently killed one of the recruiters, which was unfortunate. So far no expansion to the family, though, it’s all on Edmund. Oh, and money has been offered if Major Herrick is included.”

“Chansa has got us outnumbered,” Sheida mused. “Why is he so desperate?”

“Angry, more likely,” Paul pointed out. “He never did take well to any sort of frustration and Edmund has been very frustrating to him.”

“Agreed. Anything else?”

“You’re aware that Paul has a… breeding program?”

“If you’re talking about his harem, yes,” Sheida said, flexing her jaw.

“I may have an entree to it,” Joel said, carefully. “They have put out a bid for some personal effects, notably cosmetics. One of my agents, not coincidentally, is a cosmetic supplier.”

“Cosmetic supplier?” Sheida said, raising her eyebrow.

“Cosmetics are luxury items in Ropasa,” Joel said, impassively. “This permits my agent to move among the wealthy with a fully justified cover. And since he is being supported independently, shall we say, he can afford to underbid his competition at need. With luck we will be able to penetrate the harem.”

“And you think that will help?” Sheida asked.

“I suspect that Paul may talk to the girls.” Joel shrugged. “Even if it is about inconsequential items, they may be pieced together. When he is there and when he is gone is data. Of course, the agent may not be able to find a useable contact. But I feel it is worth a shot.”

“Pillow talk,” Sheida said, shaking her head.

“The honey trap is one of the oldest traps in the business,” Joel noted. “Men tend to talk afterwards. It’s amazing what they will tell a pretty woman.”

“I’ve noticed that effect myself,” Sheida admitted, dryly. “If they stay awake. Now, let’s get the information on your agents on the ships and I’ll get on to the billion other things I have to do. And I wish you luck on your harem adventure.”

Megan smiled thinly as the vendor’s eyes flickered down and then back up to look her in the eye.

After a certain amount of persuading, Paul had allowed her to begin looking for another “sundries” vendor. Paul was constantly on Christel, and Megan now, to keep costs down and one of the harem’s worst expenses, after food, was cosmetics. When Megan had arrived there hadn’t been any. Prior to the Fall there were a variety of ways to “touch up” the face, and body, from skin color mods to nannite makeup. After the Fall it had taken a while for “luxury” items to appear; as far as she knew Megan was still the only perfumer in Ropasa. But as part of her plan Megan had found, through the kitchen staff that handled all the “sundries” vending, a cosmetics supplier.

Unfortunately, the price the supplier charged was infernally high. Admittedly, some of the materials were either not found in Ropasa or exceedingly rare. But still, the prices were just outrageous.

Paul had finally let her accept bids from competitors and this vendor was the winning bidder. If his material met spec.

And if he could keep his eyes in his head.

“Sorry about that,” the man said. He seemed to be over the “outfit” and examining her face. But she decided to ignore it.

“That’s fine,” Megan replied. “As long as you remember that my eyes are up here,” she added, pointing at her face.

“Yes, Miss…?”

“Sung,” Megan replied. “Megan Sung. Now, I like your pricing, but I’m not comfortable with the shades on your blushes. They’re a tad brown.”

“We don’t have access to a firm red,” the vendor replied, nodding and looking down at his notes. “The best red, the brightest available, is vermillion. But it’s made from…”

“Mercury,” Megan said, smiling thinly. “A toxic heavy metal.”

“Did my predecessor…?” the man asked, looking up in startlement.

“I tested all the cosmetics for base materials in my lab,” Megan replied. “I rejected his reds for that very reason. Another point against him, besides price. I’m glad to hear you don’t use it. There is no other high quality red available?”

“Say rather that there is none that is not toxic,” the man said with a grimace. “To one degree or another. My lab is working on a petroleum based red. We know that it once existed, but I’ve been unable to find any hardcopy data on how to produce it. And, even then, we anticipate that it will have some trace of metallics in it.”

“There are red dyes being used in clothes,” Megan said, gesturing at her top. It was a brilliant red silk.

“And the people using those dyes are quite reticent about what they use.” The vendor grinned. “Also, some high-brilliance red dyes that are functional for clothing are not functional for cosmetics. There is an… intimate contact with cosmetics. Any volatile in them is transmitted through the skin. Which is why testing for them used to be so acute.”

“Unfortunately, I need a red,” Megan said, frowning. “If you’re willing to give up some of your industrial secrets, I’d be willing to do some experimentation of my own. Not for production; the girls use far more than I’d be able to produce.”

“I understand,” the vendor replied with a grin. “We’ll keep working on it. We’ve got some new mixtures,” he continued, pulling a sample out of his case. “And we’re working with some of the less toxic materials, to try to find one that is suitable. But you can understand that I truly do not want to poison any of Paul Bowman’s… friends.”

“Understandable.” Megan grinned, opening up the leather case. The man held out a hand mirror as she brushed some of the rouge onto her cheek and considered the color. “That’s… better. Nearly right. What about lip gloss?”

“That’s actually easier,” the man replied. “An addition of yellow brings out the red. The yellow does have a trace quantity of lead in it. But our test subjects haven’t experienced any notable side effects.”

“Test subjects?” Megan asked, carefully.

“We test all the cosmetics on animals first,” the vendor replied, shrugging. “Then employees use them. There is no compulsion used. And none of our customers have had any complaints. So far, so good.”

“Is there much of a market?” Megan asked, doing her other cheek as the man pulled out a gloss sample.

“More and more of one,” the vendor admitted. “Although this account will be… substantial from what you’ve alluded.”

“We use a lot of cosmetics.” Megan sighed, pouting her lips to apply the gloss. Now that was red.

“Again, I understand,” the man said, carefully.

“Oh, Paul’s not here that much,” Megan said, looking up from the mirror. “But he turns up without any warning. So the girls use it every day regardless. And they’re always trying for the right new ‘look’ that he’ll particularly like. Harem politics.”

“Yes,” the man said, uncomfortably.

“You can use the word,” Megan replied, smiling thinly. “We do.”

“As you wish,” the vendor said. “I can start supplying by the end of the week. The terms are acceptable?”

“Quite acceptable,” Megan replied. “Much better than your competitors’.”

“My competitors have neither my sources nor my business acumen,” the vendor said with a grin. “On the subject of a ‘new look.’ I have some employees, female, who perform makeup seminars. Would it be possible…?”