fringe worlds break away from the central government. It has been going on for centuries; the war that destroyed the Old Federation shattered a community of worlds far larger than the Empire. The Hamati Confederacy and the Believers Sodality were once both part of the Federation. The Empire has lost control over them, just as each century if loses dominion over more of its frontier.
Someday a war will come that will drive the Empire into a fragmented barbarism, and even the name of Empire will perish. The technology that supports its economy will be lost, and all that will remain will be apes scavenging in a boneyard, looking up at the stars.
5
Malice In Wondertown
Kiffit’s one of the few places in the Outfar where the port city was there before the port-a ancient and valued member of our varied and colorful Empire. Paladin says Kiffit used to be bigger and thriving, but it was fine with me if it wasn’t now. The parts of it I was interested in still seemed in good enough shape to me.
By now the horizon’d risen and cut off Kiffit’s primary, and the Kiffit-Port security lighting wasn’t on yet. Bad light’s saved more lives than bodysnatchers in my line of work, so that was the time I picked to head out.
###
The Elephant and Starcastle in Borderline is where the Gentry on Kiffit hang their heat. Like any other hooch servicing a port, the Starcastle’s on a full-rotation sked. Stardancers on the up-and-out aren’t going to rearrange their circadians every time they downfall.
I didn’t have any trouble getting a room with no view and a box with locks sunk into the floor. I’d have to be more of an idiot than even Pally thought I was to cold-call on a total stranger carrying 3K of illegal. The lockbox was the reason I’d rented the room.
I put the densepaks under lock and seal and threw enough of my own stuff around to make it look natural. It was after full-dark when I went down to sightsee in the unregulated planetary air.
The early evening streets was full of fellahim and grubbers tied to planetary rotation. I saw Company men from Directorate ships in their lovely gray leathers, Indie crews trooping their colors like a pack of bandarlog, and the kiddies that catered to both. Borderline’s a planned city, which means that after a certain point the plans give out and there’s nothing but a sprawl of back-alley mazes. If you fight your way through them long enough, you reach Borderline New City, which is also nice and tidy.
I’d checked at the PortServices shop and found where the Azarine Guildhouse was, but Tiggy’d made that none of my concern. The address I had from Gibberfur was for a transient outhostel called Danbourg Strail that was a little farther out. Joytown was on left, and behind me and to the right was the commercial port towers. Company again, rot them, with their stranglehold on Mid-Worlds and Directorate shipping and their nasty way of holing any Indie ship they run into, just for kicks. Guild sanctions don’t mean a helluva lot to them.
I kept going. Eventually I left wondertown behind; I didn’t mind the walk, and it’s always good to know the ground you may have to retreat over later.
I was a couple kliks from the port, and all the way to the thin edge of the city planners’ good intentions. The area I was in now had been razed for new building but no buildings had gone up. It was being used as sort of a open-air market; unregulated and ramshackle. About as thriving as any place in Borderline was, which wasn’t saying lots. My destination was just the other side.
The Danbourg Strail was the kind of outhostel where you usually go to sell things you don’t own. I went on up to the cubie-number I’d been given back on Wanderweb. According to Gibberfur, Moke Rahone kept regular hours here and these were those.
I’d also been told to call before I came. Sure I would. And maybe my kick would waft in here on the wings of song, too.
Punched the bell. The door said it
Someday a war will come that will drive the Empire into a fragmented barbarism, and even the name of Empire will perish. The technology that supports its economy will be lost, and all that will remain will be apes scavenging in a boneyard, looking up at the stars.
5
Malice In Wondertown
Kiffit’s one of the few places in the Outfar where the port city was there before the port-a ancient and valued member of our varied and colorful Empire. Paladin says Kiffit used to be bigger and thriving, but it was fine with me if it wasn’t now. The parts of it I was interested in still seemed in good enough shape to me.
By now the horizon’d risen and cut off Kiffit’s primary, and the Kiffit-Port security lighting wasn’t on yet. Bad light’s saved more lives than bodysnatchers in my line of work, so that was the time I picked to head out.
###
The Elephant and Starcastle in Borderline is where the Gentry on Kiffit hang their heat. Like any other hooch servicing a port, the Starcastle’s on a full-rotation sked. Stardancers on the up-and-out aren’t going to rearrange their circadians every time they downfall.
I didn’t have any trouble getting a room with no view and a box with locks sunk into the floor. I’d have to be more of an idiot than even Pally thought I was to cold-call on a total stranger carrying 3K of illegal. The lockbox was the reason I’d rented the room.
I put the densepaks under lock and seal and threw enough of my own stuff around to make it look natural. It was after full-dark when I went down to sightsee in the unregulated planetary air.
The early evening streets was full of fellahim and grubbers tied to planetary rotation. I saw Company men from Directorate ships in their lovely gray leathers, Indie crews trooping their colors like a pack of bandarlog, and the kiddies that catered to both. Borderline’s a planned city, which means that after a certain point the plans give out and there’s nothing but a sprawl of back-alley mazes. If you fight your way through them long enough, you reach Borderline New City, which is also nice and tidy.
I’d checked at the PortServices shop and found where the Azarine Guildhouse was, but Tiggy’d made that none of my concern. The address I had from Gibberfur was for a transient outhostel called Danbourg Strail that was a little farther out. Joytown was on left, and behind me and to the right was the commercial port towers. Company again, rot them, with their stranglehold on Mid-Worlds and Directorate shipping and their nasty way of holing any Indie ship they run into, just for kicks. Guild sanctions don’t mean a helluva lot to them.
I kept going. Eventually I left wondertown behind; I didn’t mind the walk, and it’s always good to know the ground you may have to retreat over later.
I was a couple kliks from the port, and all the way to the thin edge of the city planners’ good intentions. The area I was in now had been razed for new building but no buildings had gone up. It was being used as sort of a open-air market; unregulated and ramshackle. About as thriving as any place in Borderline was, which wasn’t saying lots. My destination was just the other side.
The Danbourg Strail was the kind of outhostel where you usually go to sell things you don’t own. I went on up to the cubie-number I’d been given back on Wanderweb. According to Gibberfur, Moke Rahone kept regular hours here and these were those.
I’d also been told to call before I came. Sure I would. And maybe my kick would waft in here on the wings of song, too.
Punched the bell. The door said it
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