Free Alien Tongues by M.L. Janes Page A

organized crime in the area.  If he was worthy of his job, he would make sure that nothing about any local syndicate might jeopardize his mission.  In all other respects, whatever crimes were taking place on his doorstep were wholly irrelevant to him.  Any investigation, beyond relevance to current mission, was strongly discouraged.  He was not law enforcement, and his job had absolutely nothing to do with justice.  That was the first lesson they drilled into you.
    "I'm a big martial arts fan," Phyllis said with enthusiasm.  "While we're here, how about practicing some together?"
    Séamus frowned. "I don't know.  Mine isn't quite of the Gungfu, Wushu , Knights-of-the-Middle-Kingdom variety.  Its purpose is to stop the guy killing you or your subject.  A hundred-Euro note might be your best weapon.  Your back-up might be a corkscrew or razorblade.  That's where it becomes difficult to disentangle from intelligence."
    Phyllis was not to be deterred.  "Well, then maybe I can teach you some stuff!  Come on, Mr FitzGerald, we're going to have a long, cold, lonely winter.  I for one am not stepping outside this building until Summer.  I'm used to hot and humid all year round.  So unless you got plans to take me to a sauna, you're going to have to help me break a sweat here."
    "There's a gym downstairs.  I think it even has a small sauna."
    She moved her head close to him, deliberately looking upwards at him.  "Let's get sweaty down there, then, Mister.  I've got a mother's tummy and I need the exercise or it gets slack."  She took his hand and ran it over her stomach, which felt muscular enough to Séamus.
    As he returned to his own room, he thought of Tina's remarks about touching.  Was touch communication?  If so, could people lie with their bodies as easily as with their mouths? Given the hardship and even trauma of these girls' lives, could they really put any trust in touch, or even trust their own touch?  Maybe we simply choose to put trust in touch for that moment we can get it, Séamus thought, like massage.  Maybe it's enough that we have power over that touch, and the girls had realized their power over him.  That power was a fair exchange for their cooperation to get the job done, because they sensed the vital importance to him of a successful completion. Perhaps they now relished their new, dominant role in the world market for their services.
    Pouring himself tea, Séamus found his thoughts returning to Sheryl.  If they did get married, what was the exchange?  Access to a beautiful woman in return for fidelity and mowing the lawn?  Of course, they talked often about love and there did seem something very special.  But was love simply the amount of good feeling needed to make such an enormous and semi-permanent exchange?  Could he seriously elevate his motives, or even Sheryl's motives, above those of the girls?
    He was able to catch the cafeteria open for dinner.  The dining area was pleasant, and he took a table next to the glass wall where he could just make out the moon rising.  He messaged Alice and she joined him.  As they ate from trays, he asked her if she and Wilkie had been satisfied with the day.
    "Yes, very," she replied.  "We're all set for tomorrow morning.  I feel the girls have a very good grasp of what we're expecting."
    Séamus chewed for a moment in silence and then said, "You mentioned yesterday not to judge them for their criminal convictions.  Now I am going to offer a preliminary judgment – these girls are saints, doing whatever it takes to help their families.  I don't know whether to conclude they come from cultures where women are particularly selfless, or families which are particularly demanding."
    Alice frowned. "A little bit of both, perhaps.  But also, three out of four are from poor backgrounds where sufficient medicine or education can be out of reach.  In Tina's case, she was just unlucky with her family's fortunes.  I agree, these girls are not