«Don’t worry. I’ll pull it all together,» Kemrin answered absently.
«I hope so, Kemrin. I really hope so. They’re making uneasy noises up there; they’re talking options and alternatives. Are you hearing me?»
Kemrin forced himself to look properly apprehensive. «I understand. I’ll do better. How ’bout this: Velligon escapes, with the help of Sualn’s beauteous chambermaid, Miskette, who’s carrying his illegal clone-child. They’re hiding out in CloudWorld’s Howlytown, right? Meanwhile, Jam’s critically injured in a fiery floater accident, and all seven of his Dilvermoon exbondmates flock to his bedside and throw Sualn out into Howlytown, where her on the street. Just off the top of my head, Bodrun, but… you see where I ’m going?»
«Yeah, yeah, that sounds like the good old stuff, Kem. But, listen to me. It’s a tight dream season.»
The next attack came after a hard day’s struggle with the new
Kemrin approached the foyer o f the building where he lived, trying to look in all directions simultaneously. To each side, slagged-out buildings offered ample concealment to potential ambushers.
Five meters from the safety of the foyer entrance, he heard a low thrum. A stream of soft plastic bullets reached out from a dark doorway and knocked him off his feet. He sprawled, losing his grip on the splinter gun. From the corner of his eye, he saw Rainbow and Peonies hot-footing it toward him, carrying between them a big stickyshock net.
Kemrin scrambled desperately after the gun, caught it on a lucky bounce before it had skittered out of reach. The gun buzzed, and half of Rainbow’s astounded face shredded away into red mist.
Peonies dropped his half of the net, said, «Oh rats,» in a small voice, and dodged back into the doorway before Kemrin could get a bead on him. Kemrin looked stupidly after him for a moment. Then his sense of selfpreservation kicked in, and he made for the foyer as fast as he could crawl.
His first act, on attaining the safety o f his habitat, was to call Bodrun.
«Kem? Is that you, Kem?» Bodrun peered anxiously through the static that afflicted most Howlytown-Pale vid lines.
«Yes, it’s me. Bodrun, you were right. Send an armorcar for my gear, and then come get me. Howlytown’s lost all its glamor.»
Bodrun looked uncomfortable. «Ah. Well. Kemrin, things have changed.
«How can they do that?»
«How can they do that?»
«Fine print. It looked like a good trade-off, at the time.»
Kemrin felt Howlytown pressing in around him, all teeth and claws and hungry eyes. He was too frightened to be angry. «What can I do?»
Bodnin shrugged. «Hang in there, buddy. They ’re not pulling
«But» Kemrin started to say.
«You can do it; I have faith in you, kid.» Bodrun clicked off.
When Kemrin tried to call back, he couldn’t get through. But a moment later his vid chimed, and he stabbed at the ACCEPT switch, hoping for a reprieve.
Asmo Bluedog’s vast face filled the screen. He chuckled throatily.
«Kemrin Animoht, are you there? How long can you hide?» The holographic eye winked madly; the real eye glittered hotly. «You cost me a good boy today, didn’t you? Are you proud?»
Kemrin drew back, horrified. Bluedog’s image slowly faded.
«Oh no. Oh no,» he said. Howlytown lost the last glimmer o f its dark luster, and he wished fervently to be back in the dull safe confines of the Pale.
A week later he found Bluedog’s dark-haired woman in the foyer, sitting against the far wall. Blood had pooled around her, but she was alive. Her eyes focused on him as he entered.
His first impulse was to ignore her; he suspected a boobybomb. But she called out wordlessly, and he remembered her small act of kindness to him.
He approached as closely as he dared. «I'll call a medunit,» he said.
She rolled her head from side to side. «No, please» she said in a tiny dry whisper. «They’ll sell me to a chop shop; I have no cash.»
He considered. Maybe the bomb was inside her. The source o f the blood wasn’t visible; perhaps Bluedog had cut a hiding place. «Where are you; hurt?» he asked.
«It’s not bad, really, nothing serious. My back… I ’ve just lost a little blood. I'll be okay in a while.» Her eyes rolled up; she had passed out.
Eventually, he came to a decision. He went up to his habitat and fetched the seeker-destroyer. He switched it to capture mode and set it on her. It scanned her carefully, found nothing. While it was peeling her off the wall, she woke and screamed as the wounds on her back reopened. But she fainted again immediately.
He followed as the SD brought her up to his habitat, and wondered all the while at his sudden foolishness.
Her back was hard to look at, jellied blood, raw purple meat, a few scraps of fabric embedded in the mess. Kemrin marvelled th a t she still breathed. He assumed he was seeing an example of Bluedog’s fabled skill with a flickwhip. What had she done to irritate the monster?
He had a small personal medic in the habitat. He rolled the unit across the floor to the corner where the SD had left the woman. When he pressed the unit’s switch, the chassis opened and a cluster of probes came weaving out, to touch delicately at her flesh.
Presently, she was obscured beneath a tangle of slender silver cable, and the unit’s telltales glowed red.
Kemrin examined the impulse that had caused him to rescue her. Why had he done it? Because she had been kind? No, it had been an insignificant kindness — though memorable, under the circumstances. Because she was pretty? No. Howlytown teemed with handsome women; most of them for sale at reasonable rates.
Perhaps he hoped to learn something from her, some scrap of information that might help him survive Bluedog’s enmity. Y es, that was probably it.When he had arrived at this rationale, he allowed himself to hope she would survive.
Six hours later, the telltales on the medic had faded to amber, and she woke.
Her eyes were huge, a deep soft violet. Lovely, he thought, startled. Her face was white, still drawn, still taut with fear.
She watched him wordlessly. «Hello,» he said.
She bit her lip and looked away. It suddenly occurred to him that she was afraid, afraid of him. «No, no,» he said. «I won’t hurt you. Bluedog did this?»
She nodded.
«Why?»
She tried to speak, but her voice was a dry whisper. He brought her water, and she drank it greedily.
Her voice was stronger. «Bluedog is a clever man,» she said. «Bluedog wished to show you something ugly. He wished to add the weight of another decision to your load. He foresaw that you would feel guilt if you left me, and anxiety i f you rescued me. He told me to tell you these things if I survived to speak to you.»
Kemrin drew back, appalled. Monstrous Bluedog! «He did this to you just to devil me?»
A tiny smile trembled on her mouth. «Of course. He’s Bluedog. But he was finished with me, anyway»
«Why? Why does he hate me so?»
She looked faintly surprised. «You don’t know? Bluedog hates everyone who doesn’t have to live in Howlytown and comes down here anyway. And now you’ve killed one of his favorites»
«And what are you to Bluedog?»
She didn’t answer immediately. «Tell me,» he said sharply. She cringed away from him, as if expecting to be
