little robot surgeon had tentacles, probes, lasers, and drugs of all varieties to repair human flesh. I never liked to depend on them, having heard stories of malfunctions—accidentally rerouting an artery through a lung—especially when their monthly premiums weren’t paid.
I drained my coffee and stepped onto the bridge. Virginia’s hands danced over the controls, adding mass to the Grail Angel, bringing us back under the influence of Newtonian physics, and into a black sparkling star sea.
Needles colony floated in our displays, a silver orb in orbit about a planet with olive and coral clouds, an abstract of ribbons, curls, and whirlpools. The illusion of the colony’s smooth edges vanished when we approached. Docking gear and cannon stuck out at odd angles. A swarm of insects gathered here to sip dark nectar, a hundred ships buying contraband, smuggling it elsewhere, and multiplying their profits. There was no port authority, or if there was, they didn’t bother to hail us.
Everyone kept their noses out of each other’s business here.
The Grail Angel glided into an open bay, and settled in an empty slot.
“Still think this ship is haunted?” I asked Virginia.
She ran a hand over the inlaid briarwood. “One trip isn’t long enough to shake the bugs out of her. The mass-folding generators are impressive. I’ve never seen the likes of them before.”
“Is that a hint of approval I hear?”
“No. I’d prefer to see the AI purged. This ship is plenty fast without it.”
“Setebos is quirky for an AI, I admit, but it stays. I need the extra speed.”
“I don’t trust it.”
“Learn to.”
“It’s your ship.” She disentangled herself from the wraparound pilot’s chair. “It’s your life.”
“Setebos,” I said, “we’ll be gone for a few hours. Don’t let anyone in the ship except Virginia or me.”
“Yes sir, security procedures active. Magic circle energized and enhanced. Identification required for all functions.”
“Excellent.” I asked Virginia, “Are you armed?”
She removed a plasma cannon (just like the one Gilish tried on Gustave) from a pocket in her pilot’s suit. Her lucky four-leaf clover dangled on a chain from its handle. “I have a spare, if you need one.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant the weapon or the charm, but I hefted the accelerator rifle, and said, “This should cover me.”
Virginia double-checked the ship’s systems, then we disembarked.
A warm breeze blew through the hangar, bringing with it the scent of grease, ozone, and the smokes of opium and marijuana. Merchants loitered by the entrance of the colony, waiting for customers. Three of them immediately approached the Grail Angel. I shifted my rifle into a more threatening position.
“Dream?” inquired the first and waved a vial of viscous liquid before me.
“Perhaps some Samber juice, O worthy one?” queried the second. His lips and fingers were stained black from the hallucinogen, and his breath was the stuff of nightmares.
“Freeze?” the third asked, his eyes darting to Virginia then back to me.
Virginia kept walking, ignoring them. I halted. “You have Freeze? How much? What else do you have?”
“Metadexidrene, chlorozeneatol, Lightning, and Shazam,” the merchant said, digging through his backpack. His hands shook uncontrollably.
Virginia turned and came back to me.
“I’ll take a dozen hits of each,” I told him.
“You’re not—” she said.
“Kit,” I insisted.
The merchant removed a tester so I might gauge the purity of his goods.
“This is sixty-three percent. Do I look like a tourist?”
“A thousand pardons, benevolent sir.” He dug deeper into his pack.
I tested again. “Ninety-three percent. Good enough.” I transferred funds on his disposable from the Golden City bank to his account. In return, he dropped sixty thimble-sized capsules into my hand. “May your visit be filled with delight,” he said, and moved on.
“I can’t believe you
I drained my coffee and stepped onto the bridge. Virginia’s hands danced over the controls, adding mass to the Grail Angel, bringing us back under the influence of Newtonian physics, and into a black sparkling star sea.
Needles colony floated in our displays, a silver orb in orbit about a planet with olive and coral clouds, an abstract of ribbons, curls, and whirlpools. The illusion of the colony’s smooth edges vanished when we approached. Docking gear and cannon stuck out at odd angles. A swarm of insects gathered here to sip dark nectar, a hundred ships buying contraband, smuggling it elsewhere, and multiplying their profits. There was no port authority, or if there was, they didn’t bother to hail us.
Everyone kept their noses out of each other’s business here.
The Grail Angel glided into an open bay, and settled in an empty slot.
“Still think this ship is haunted?” I asked Virginia.
She ran a hand over the inlaid briarwood. “One trip isn’t long enough to shake the bugs out of her. The mass-folding generators are impressive. I’ve never seen the likes of them before.”
“Is that a hint of approval I hear?”
“No. I’d prefer to see the AI purged. This ship is plenty fast without it.”
“Setebos is quirky for an AI, I admit, but it stays. I need the extra speed.”
“I don’t trust it.”
“Learn to.”
“It’s your ship.” She disentangled herself from the wraparound pilot’s chair. “It’s your life.”
“Setebos,” I said, “we’ll be gone for a few hours. Don’t let anyone in the ship except Virginia or me.”
“Yes sir, security procedures active. Magic circle energized and enhanced. Identification required for all functions.”
“Excellent.” I asked Virginia, “Are you armed?”
She removed a plasma cannon (just like the one Gilish tried on Gustave) from a pocket in her pilot’s suit. Her lucky four-leaf clover dangled on a chain from its handle. “I have a spare, if you need one.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant the weapon or the charm, but I hefted the accelerator rifle, and said, “This should cover me.”
Virginia double-checked the ship’s systems, then we disembarked.
A warm breeze blew through the hangar, bringing with it the scent of grease, ozone, and the smokes of opium and marijuana. Merchants loitered by the entrance of the colony, waiting for customers. Three of them immediately approached the Grail Angel. I shifted my rifle into a more threatening position.
“Dream?” inquired the first and waved a vial of viscous liquid before me.
“Perhaps some Samber juice, O worthy one?” queried the second. His lips and fingers were stained black from the hallucinogen, and his breath was the stuff of nightmares.
“Freeze?” the third asked, his eyes darting to Virginia then back to me.
Virginia kept walking, ignoring them. I halted. “You have Freeze? How much? What else do you have?”
“Metadexidrene, chlorozeneatol, Lightning, and Shazam,” the merchant said, digging through his backpack. His hands shook uncontrollably.
Virginia turned and came back to me.
“I’ll take a dozen hits of each,” I told him.
“You’re not—” she said.
“Kit,” I insisted.
The merchant removed a tester so I might gauge the purity of his goods.
“This is sixty-three percent. Do I look like a tourist?”
“A thousand pardons, benevolent sir.” He dug deeper into his pack.
I tested again. “Ninety-three percent. Good enough.” I transferred funds on his disposable from the Golden City bank to his account. In return, he dropped sixty thimble-sized capsules into my hand. “May your visit be filled with delight,” he said, and moved on.
“I can’t believe you
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