monitors jerked. The one with the forehead scar and the missing teeth opened his eyes. Then the knockout drugs took over and the eyes closed again.
“It’s a little device that Hansen keeps with him,” Nadia said. “I’ve seen him slide it over two of his guards before, when they came to… to help me. One of them said something about it making them invisible. I guess he meant invisible to the station tracker.”
“Good,” Marten said. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”
7.
Marten reentered Smade’s. He needed the device that would deactivate his barcode tattoo. Nadia said Hansen kept it on his person. He hoped she was right.
Before Marten adjusted to the gloom, Kang bellowed a greeting. Marten strode in that direction and a moment later slid into his chair. Hansen had his slender hands wrapped around a frosty glass of blue liquid. He looked dejected, his thinning hair messed up at the sides as if he’d been scratching his head. The massive Kang sat at the table as if he were a king. The dim light shone off the top of his bald head, while his eyes were a little more open than usual. His pupils had started turning glassy.
“Where’s Omi?” Kang asked.
“He’s with a girl,” Marten said. “I figured there’s no sense in trying to find Lance and Vip. So…”
“They’re more of you?” Hansen asked in alarm.
Kang leered. “Poor little informer, always wants to know everything, don’t you?”
Hansen made a peevish gesture.
“What are you having?” Marten asked Hansen.
“Eye-bender,” mumbled the monitor. “Do you want one? It’ll be on me.”
“Sure,” Marten said.
Hansen snapped his fingers and soon a waitress set a tall frosty eye-bender before Marten. He raised his glass to Hansen. Glumly, Hansen raised his and they clicked glasses.
“To old friends,” Marten said.
“I’ll drink to that,” Kang said, picking up his glass and clicking it against theirs.
Kang slurped vodka. Marten sipped, while Hansen took a mouthful of eye-bender and swallowed as if it were a lump of clay.
“Do you know why Hansen looks so sad?” Kang asked.
“Please,” said Hansen. “Do you have to speak so loudly? Must everyone hear?”
Kang leered. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Is that better?”
Hansen sighed, peered at his eye-bender and took another of his doleful swallows.
“He thinks I’ll spill his secrets,” Kang said.
“We’re all Sydney boys,” said Hansen in a dispirited way. “We have to stick together.”
“That’s so right,” Kang said. “So very right.”
Marten wondered how much vodka Kang had put away.
“But if I scratch your back, you little maggot, how are you gonna scratch mine?” asked Kang.
Hansen reached into his pockets and put a small pile of plastic credits on the table. “It’s all I have.”
Kang leered at Marten. “Do you think that’s enough?”
“For what?” asked Marten.
“To buy the 101st’s silence.”
Marten studied the credits and then Hansen. “Isn’t it dangerous what you’re doing? This entire setup?”
“No more dangerous than your profession,” said Hansen.
“Are you trying to say you’re as brave as us?” growled Kang.
“The saints forbid that I dare claim that,” said Hansen. He studied his eye-bender and a grin twitched. “But my profession does pay better and there are more perks.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Kang said. “At least about the better pay.”
Hansen winced, shook his long head and finished his eye-bender. “I must be leaving,” he said.
Kang dropped his hand onto Hansen’s wrist. “Going to get reinforcements are you? Maybe have them take me out somewhere quiet and work me over?”
“Do you think I’m insane?” asked Hansen. “The HBs would come flying to your rescue.”
“That’s right,” Kang said. “Then you’d all be in the pain booth. And then one of you would talk, would break under the pressure. It would be over for you. You’d take a space walk in your skivvies.”
“I know, I know,” said Hansen, sweat beading on his tall forehead.
“You little maggot,” Kang said. “You don’t know at all. You think you’ve finally got me drunk, got me stupid. You really think you can outsmart me. You, a little informer—” Kang spat on the table.
Hansen closed his eyes. When he opened them, the man and woman monitor-team that had been watching them stood at the table. The woman was taller than the man and had long black hair. Although short, the man had wide shoulders and seemingly no neck, and there was something odd about his eyes. They were gray and seemed empty, devoid of emotion.
Kang leaned back, eyeing the pair. “Are they yours?” he asked Hansen.
“Is everything all right, boss?” asked the man.
Hansen pursed his lips. “Have either of you spoken to Dalt or Methlen?”
“No, boss.”
Hansen glanced at Kang as he spoke to his team. “I think you two should check on them.”
Kang grunted his okay.
“Yes,” said Hansen. “That’s what I want you to do.”
“What about you, boss?”
“I’ll be fine,” said Hansen. “These are old friends.”
“Are you certain about that?”
Hansen slapped the table. “I said I would be all right, didn’t I? Now do what I ask, Ervil.”
Ervil darted his dead eyes at Kang and Marten. Finally, he dipped his thick head.
“Report back when you find them,” said Hansen.
“Like you say, boss.” Ervil took the black-haired woman’s hand and they left.
“There,” said Hansen. “Satisfied?”
Kang poured more vodka.
“But I must tell you that if I press a switch or don’t report to HQ in another half hour that monitors will descend upon me,” said Hansen. “Then it’s detention for both of you.”
“And then your secret is out,” Kang said.
“Not necessarily,” said Hansen. “As I said before, Chief Monitor Bock runs the secret police.”
“All the monitors help make dream dust?” asked Kang.
“No,” said Hansen. “But enough.”
Kang nodded and slurped more vodka. “Not a bad racket, you little maggot, not bad at all. I’m impressed.”
The thin monitor sat a little straighter and he even adjusted his collar. “If you can make it in Sydney’s slums then you can make it anywhere.”
“That’s right,” Kang said.
Hansen smiled ruefully. He turned to Marten and noticed his eye-bender. “You’ve hardly sipped your drink.”
“It’s not really what I expected,” Marten said. “Would you like it?” He slid it over.
Hansen peered at him, shrugged. He took the tall glass and took another of his measured swallows. Kang slurped more vodka.
Marten waited, wondering just how big a bladder each man had.
“Maybe this is all for the best,” said Hansen. “I’m looking for more sellers I can trust and Bock wants to break
