"You liked her, did you?"
"I guess so."
"And she just gave you the brush?" "Yeah."
"She's right, you know. You can't fall in love in one of these places."
Hark dropped his gaze to the floor. "I guess you're right."
"Are you one of this bunch from the Anah 5?"
A new feeling was creeping over Hark: He was a part of this bunch. And that fact was paramount-because when it came down to the line, that was all he was. He knew that the psych programming was taking over, but what the hell, he was going to let it. It was better than hurt and confusion.
"Damn right I am."
"Then damn well lay some thumb on my sensor. I don't know when your messmates are going to be back. If they get back at all. The mood they were in, they're likely to get shipped out by the shores. The name's Vana, by the way."
"The last one was Vana."
"Everyone's Vana in this booth, honey."
"Mine's Hark."
"I don't remember names, honey. What about the thumb?"
"Where did the others go?"
"Who knows? They were blind drunk and looking for trouble. They could be anywhere by now. If I don't get some thumb, I'm going to have to let the place go to some other outfit."
She held out the sensor. Hark took it, but before he could press his thumb into it, Dyrkin came through the entrance.
"What the hell is going on here?"
"She said she was going to let the booth go."
Dyrkin's eyes narrowed. He glared at Vana.
"I paid you in front, you thieving bitch. And I warned you about clipping the boys."
"You can't blame a girl for trying."
"I just don't want to catch you trying."
"You won't."
"I just did."
"But you didn't do anything about it because you know you won't get another place now that the whole cluster's in. I won't be blatant, but I'm going to make my profit."
Dyrkin shrugged. He wasn't about to waste time arguing with the obvious. He turned to Hark.
"So what have you been up to? I ain't seen you since the first fight. You ain't a loner, are you?"
The word "loner" came out as if a loner was something he definitely shouldn't want to be.
"I met a woman. She came from my planet."
Dyrkin raised an eyebrow. "That must have been weird."
"It was, kinda."
"I don't think I'd fancy it. What did you do?" "Screwed a lot, and she talked a lot." "No doubt she filled you up with a lot of witchery." "She said that they remembered." "It doesn't do us any good." "It's good to think you're remembered somewhere." "When you're gone, you're gone." Dyrkin didn't seem to expect Hark to argue with the obvious, either. Hark didn't.
"What happened to the others?" he asked. "Liquored up and crazy," Dyrkin replied. "How crazy?"
"Crazy enough that the next two hundred minutes will find Renchett and a half dozen others back on the ship in a punishment pod. If nothing else, it's shaping up as a liberty that's going to be remembered."
"What's Renchett up to?"
"Usual Renchett stuff. Some woman told him that the dauquoi had an R amp;R facility on another level of this rock. He took it into his head to break into this level and see how the dauquoi have their fun. Needless to say, he found a bunch of drunken assholes to go along with him."
"What are the dauquoi?"
"You never came across dauquoi?" "No."
"Well, they're these big worms. They ain't too smart, and they're mainly used to keep the ducts clear, but they have this real complicated reproductive process, so I guess they qualify for a kind of liberty."
"Shouldn't we do something to stop him?"
"You and me? You want to try stopping Renchett when he's blind drunk?"
"No, I guess not."
"Me neither. I figure if it's anybody's problem, it's Rance's. He can deal with it."
Ten
"You Rance?"
Rance groaned inwardly. A shore patrol squad leader was marching smartly across the topmen's lounge, heading directly for his table.
"Yeah, I'm Rance."
The woman who was with him-she'd said her name was Amansa-looked at him questioningly. "Are you in trouble?"
"Not me, but my men probably are."
The squad leader was typical shore patrol. Her white uniform was crisp and starched, her harness and boots were polished to a high gloss, and she wore a holstered sidearm, complete with lanyard, on her left hip.
"Rance from the Anah 5?"
"That's me."
"Some of your men are trying to break into the dauquoi facility."
"I didn't know that this base had a dauquoi facility."
Amansa looked from the squad leader to Rance. "Do you have to go?"
While Rance scowled, the squad leader answered for him. "He can help us sort this out or we can open fire on his men. They're past reasonable restraint, and I can't risk them breaching the dauquoi environment. The Therem would shut us down."
Rance shrugged. Why the hell had Elmo stayed on the ship? This should be his job.
"I'll come with you. I should be able to talk them out of it."
"It'll take some talking. They're crazy drunk, and they got hold of some chemical explosive." "What?"
"You know, some of the women make it."
"To give out to drunken troopers on a rampage?"
"Some old girls got a funny idea of subversion."
Rance downed his drink in one gulp. He grimaced at Amansa. What could he do? "Maybe I'll catch up with you later."
"You never know."
The squad leader laughed. "There's plenty more where she came from." "Let's go."
A servo suit was parked in the corridor outside the topmen's lounge. All its lights were flashing. As the squad leader climbed into it, she glanced down at Rance.
"Are you checked out on one of these?"
Rance shook his head.
"That's okay. We don't have a spare, anyway."
Rance had never liked the shore patrol. They demonstrated the same two traits on every recstar: arrogance and attitude.
"Do I follow you?" he asked.
"We can take the emergency chute."
The servo suit ground into action. Jogging to keep up with the hulking metal humanoid, Rance felt like a child who was forced to trot alongside a striding adult. It did nothing for his dignity. The emergency chute brought them to a rough-hewn axial tunnel. The squad leader's suit took a few moments to regain its equilibrium after the jolt of backgrav, but when she had it under control, she gestured with one of the giant pincers.
"The entrance to the dauquoi section that your men are trying to break through is up ahead at the next intersection. It's a secondary air lock."
"Why didn't you gas them down and be done with it?"
"Because I don't want the stuff hanging around in the atmosphere for ten standards or more. It'd be easier to blast them."
"You're all heart."
"I look after my own."
"Then you can't blame me if I do, too."
The area around the air lock was like the aftermath of a small battle. Six troopers were backed up against the air lock, glaring defiance at the same number of shore patrol who surrounded them in a half circle. Back in the corridor, a dozen or more troopers were penned up in mobile holding cages. They were bruised and bloody. The line of shore patrol moved aside to let Rance and the squad leader through. Rance noted, not without a certain pride, that two servo suits had been knocked out of commission. They lay flat on their backs, completely immobilized.
"Your boys have had quite a time at the expense of my women."
Rance did his best not to smile. "So it would seem."
"You've got one shot at getting them to give up. Then I have my people open fire."
Rance took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Summoning all of his authority, he marched smartly toward the air lock.
"What the hell is going on here?"
"That's far enough, Rance!"