Spacer Outlaws in the Ashes 124
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    The two exchanged a glance, one pinned against a tree by Lucky's casual strength, the other glowing faintly from the field I had wrapped around him. There was a lot of information in that glance. They knew her, what she had done in the past and was capable of doing now, and I was standing well back from the scene, body language indicating that I didn't plan to interfere in whatever it was she did. Which was a silent lie, of course, but as it turned out I needn't have worried.
    "Who are you working for?" she demanded in a soft growl.
    "We're just supposed to be following you," one of them admitted. "The guy's name is Carl."
    "I don't have a name other than Carl!"
    "Where'd you get your orders?"
    "We meet him at the Rat."
    "What's he look like?"
    "Blonde, dirty blonde hair down to his shoulders, got a scar running from here to here, big guy, little overweight, likes to sit near the back, Jesus that's all I know!" he yelped as she closed in on him a little further.
    After a few more minutes it became clear that they didn't know any more than this. Low-grade thugs too stupid to be told much of anything, they had their orders and didn't ask questions. She left them with a final muttered warning, and we returned to the bike. Then we headed back for Boston.
    "I'm gonna go have a drink," she stated.
    "Mind dropping me off first?" If she was going to go to the Rat and try to find this guy, I probably wouldn't be a help, I figured. I just don't blend into her environment very well, and unlike Phoenix Talon I can't make myself invisible to make up for it. She left me on a corner in Copley Square, and from there I made my way back to the cave. Not a great day, all told, but better than yesterday. We're making headway.

[Perspective switch: Lucky]

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© 1999 Rebecca J. Stevenson