Autumn Rose was stretched out before the suite’s wall screen, watching bands of fighters stalking each other. She clicked it off, turned her head as Shadith came in. “Anything interesting?” She flicked a hand toward the shield generator sitting on the table, a small green light glowing against the dark plastic cover.
“Yes. I had a bit of luck, ran across a Nightcrawler Cobben and tracked them to where they live. Remember what Digby said about hired assassins?”
“Mm. Planning to hitch?”
“I think so. We should probably have our quarrel in the morning. I need to listen in on what they’re talking about and the closer I am, the better.”
Rose sighed. “Just as well. I’m going to have to find a game, I’ve never been so bored.”
Shadith watched the door slide closed behind Autumn Rose, shook herself, and sighed with relief. The careful politeness between them could get more wearing than hard labor. She moved about the suite, picking up Rose’s discarded clothing, cleaning the bathroom, turning down the bed, playing the servant’s role for the watchers who’d be looking in on her at intervals now that the shield was turned off. Digby’s assessment. The Ptaks are paranoid about visitors interfering with the cash flow. Unless shielded by a caster whose capacity you’re sure of, assume you’re watched.
She moved to one of the long mirrors beside the door, ran her fingers through her short curly hair, checked the faux skin to see if it was still sealed in place, and went out to do her own kind of playing. She wasn’t looking forward to the quarrel; they’d choreographed it on the way here, but there was too much negative energy between them to make that fight an easy thing.
The light came on suddenly enough to blind Shadith as she came back from her night ramble.
Autumn Rose caught her by the shoulders, shaking her, screaming insults in a guttural Suvvojan, finishing, “Where were you? I don’t pay you to go whoring round the town, you miserable piece of nothing. You’re to be here when I need you, you hear me? Get that look off your face. I won’t tolerate insolence.” She swept her right arm back and slapped Shadith hard enough across the face to send her staggering backward into the hallway.
Shadith straightened, stared at Rose; she touched her face, looked at the smear of blood on her fingertips from the cut one of Rose’s rings had made, then she returned the slap with as much force as she could put in it (wondering even as she swung if Rose had found as much relief in this exchange as she was enjoying right now).
Autumn Rose recoiled. “That’s it. That’s all. Get your things, I want you out of here now. Now,” she screamed. “Five minutes, then I call the authorities.”
The cut scabbed over, a bruise forming around it, her gear beside her feet, Shadith stood in the middle of the lobby and looked around. Behind a long counter a female Lommertoerken clerk sat at a keyboard, eyes on the screen, her long, deeply lined face intent.
When Shadith rapped on the countertop, she looked up. “Yes?”
“Is there somewhere close I can rent a lockup?”
The Lommertoerken smiled, wrinkles spreading like stage curtains, her large brown eyes shining conspiratorially as they swept across the bruise. “I can let you have a locker here for a few days.” She lifted a bony shoulder. “Have to charge you for the keycard, company policy. You need a place to stay?”
Shadith sighed. “That I do. Somewhere cheap, she has to pay me severance, but…” She shrugged. “You know anything down near lakeshore? My fa was a fisherman, I can catch my dinner if I have to.”
The clerk ran her fingers over the keyboard, tongue clicking rhythmically as she worked; after a moment, she tapped a key, waited for the printing to finish, then tore off a sheet with half a dozen addresses on it, short paragraphs beside them listing requirements and costs. “You want to be careful,” she said. “Some of the boardhouses out there funnel women to bordellos and worse; they advertise cheap prices and give you more than you pay for, but nothing you’d like. These are all right, though.” She pushed the list across the counter. “If you’ll get your things, I’ll show you where to put them.”
3. Spy on the job
Shadith had her choice of ears. The ottotel was clean enough outside the walls, but inside was a busy haven for vermin of various sorts, much of it off the ships that landed here-mice and other small rodents along with assorted spiders and insects. Exterminators cost money and random sprays of toxics were likely to make some of the clients sicker than the vermin. ‘Bots and servitors didn’t care and the Ptakkan owners of the ‘tel had no intention of coming near the place. The rooms were sealed and small seeker ‘bots took care of complaints, if any.
Shadith stationed a mouse in the air duct, put it to sleep, and used its ears to pick up what was being said in the main room of the suite the Cobben infested.
She rather missed Autumn Rose, though she certainly hadn’t expected to. There was no one to talk to. And she couldn’t even go play. With all this passive mindriding, the concentration it needed, all this lying in dark rooms, not moving, trying to keep awake, she was too exhausted most nights to do anything but watch the vids. Everything in Lala Gemali, even around here in this bedroom community for low status workers, was geared for plucking the offworlders of their last coin. Coin viewers in every room. Watch the war and feed the Ptakkan greed.
She scolded herself, reminded herself she was here on a job, not chasing one of her own shadows or running down a personal threat. I have to get used to this, she thought. I’m on someone else’s time. Again. Well, I managed to get used to the diadem, this shouldn’t be too hard.
Listening to the Cobben was depressing. Despite what they did for a living-or maybe even because of it-there was a closeness between them that made her want to break off and go cuddle with Swardheld for a while. It reminded her too forcefully of the lack in her life. Reminded her that she had to yearn after Autumn Rose just to have someone about who shared a common purpose. Several times she bailed out quickly as sex play started developing. Made her envious and queasy at the same time. And curious, wondering what it’d be like to be part of a multiple arrangement that had been going on for a number of years.
Odd. She could spy on them to find out what they were going to do, to learn their skills and interactions in case she had to fight or even kill them, but spying on their sex lives to satisfy curiosity was something she simply could not do.
“The Blivvy was looking at you, Feyd, you know she was.” A rolling giggle. “Don’t know what she’d do with a little playtoy like you, you’d get lost in those rolls of fat”
“Oh, he likes them lush.” A rumbling growl of a voice.
“Someone turn on the shield?” A light dry voice, ambiguous as to gender.
“Why bother.” The first speaker, a mid-range female voice with harsh edges. “Government issue. You know it has to have holes in it.”
“Hoy, Sarpe, you said it.” Slow, rather dragging male voice, the words interrupted by a loud yawn. “I’m beat. Rest of you want to min the chik you’ll have to yob without me.”
“Yo, Orm, you right.” A quick ripple of a voice and a long sigh. “It’s sleep for me.”
Dragging sounds, giggles from the fresher, slap of flesh against flesh, coughing, smells of kava brewing, of soap and damp and dust stirred up. More coughing, sighs, creaking from the pallets, soft rubbing sounds from quilts moving over flesh. Silence for a while, punctuated by a few snores before one of the Cobben made an exasperated sound like a mix between a snort and the clicking of tongue against teeth and shifted the snorer onto his side, or perhaps her side.
More silence for a while, then sounds of movement converging on a corner of the room away from the sleepers. Quiet voices.
“Sarpe, we getting good money for this, but I’ve about had it here. How long’s it been, six years? Feels like six centuries. We’re getting to be like contract labor, if you ask me.”