Codename: Night Witch by Cary Caffrey Page A

and making Jaffer have to shout to be heard. "You're not trying to weasel out of dinner, are you? I'm counting on that free meal."
    "I'd never dream of it. But there's some business I need to take care of in town. Can I meet you after?"
    "Sure. Sure." Jaffer thrust his hands in his pockets. She could tell he had a growing list of questions, but like a gentleman, he kept those questions to himself.
    "I need to see to the cargo anyway," he said, as more an excuse than anything. "Shouldn't be more than an hour."
    "Perfect. See you in an hour, then."
    The longspur rose on its repulsors. Sigrid kicked it into gear, spinning it in a swift 180-degree turn before blasting away down the road and leaving Jaffer in a cloud of dust.
    "Already counting the minutes."
     
    ~ - ~
     
    Stranger and stranger, Sigrid thought as she rode slowly through the narrow streets of the Crossroads. Her travels and adventures had taken her to many shores, but none perhaps as strange as this.
    On the surface, the Crossroads didn't appear all that different from places like Vincenze or even Konoe Station, except of course that the Crossroads was on Earth and not floating through space. As with any company town, there were tenement buildings for housing the work crews, but unlike the corporate factories, there were no guard walls surrounding the tenements, and none of the usual suicide nets. There weren't even any bars across the windows to seal the workers in at night! Stranger still, the workers here weren't even indentured, at least according to Jaffer. As incredible as it sounded, they were free women and men, come here to work, and they were paid in Federated dollars rather than the usual company script.
    And there were other differences, though some took Sigrid longer to notice. She'd been driving for some time before she realized she hadn't seen a single flesh-trader or drug peddler, and normally they would appear everywhere. In their place, Sigrid spied several apothecaries, cheery-looking women and men in brightly lit shops. The brothels were more difficult to spot, but only because the establishments appeared clean and friendly, looking perfectly in place next to the neighboring cafés and dress shops.
    Apparently this Consortium had its own way of doing things. Those looking to imbibe could have their drugs without having to bother anyone or be bothered in turn. Others looking for shared intimacy could have that too. The only difference appeared to be the drugs were clean and monitored, and the sex-workers were of consenting age and worked willingly at their own volition, rather than coerced through drugs or violence. It made for a much calmer environment than she was used to.
    But neither of these were the services she was seeking. Drugs were useless on her, and sex…well, there was only one partner she was interested in, and Sigrid didn't even know if she were alive or dead.
    It was in the advocates' quarter of the Crossroads that Sigrid found what she was looking for: a solicitor specializing in contract law. In the woman's dusty office, surrounded by towering stacks of leather-bound legal tomes, Sigrid received the news she was dreading most.
    "I'm sorry, young lady, but this contract is quite authentic," said the gray-haired solicitor. She leaned across her desk to hand Sigrid a legal copy of her life contract—the very same contract Sigrid had discovered in the facility in Punta Arenas.
    Sigrid stared at the printout in her hand. "But-but that's not possible! It's a fake—it has to be!" She'd only come here to confirm that fact, not to find out…
    That it was real?
    Sigrid thrust the contract back into the solicitor's hand. "This is a mistake. There has to be some other explanation."
    "I can scan it again. But the answer will be the same. The contract was registered, filed and approved by the offices of the CTF on October 15, 2352. You, my dear, are the property of Cheung-Yoshida Multi-Planetary, a subsidiary of…oh, look at that. Coran