Orbitals are arranged like a layer cake with the dock levels near the middle. Everything above the dock is generally designated office, retail, restaurant, and residential. Everything below the dock is industrial. That’s where all the cargo canisters are processed and stored, among other things. Docks were the designated main deck and everything above that was numbered in increasing order while everything below was prefixed with a zero and numbered in increasing order. So level five was the fifth level above the docks, and level oh-two was the second level below the docks. We had the same set up on the Lois with the main deck being the spine level and the main lock, the gym was technically the oh-one deck and berthing was the first deck.

The place we were heading to was in the commercial zone, below the docks on the oh-two deck. A lot of the rowdier spots were below the docks to put a buffer between the residential quiet zones and the louder entertainments available. Put another way, everything above the docks was nice and everything below the docks was not nice. Tonight, we were going to not nice and this was terra incognita to me.

The lift doors opened and we could hear competing music coming from a variety of places in both directions up and down the corridor. There was a lot of heavy bass, most of it syncopated. The air felt as moist and heavy as it did in environmental, and the crush of people after so long aboard nearly overwhelmed me. I did not know where to look first but I followed Bev out of the lift like I knew what I was doing. Diane fell in step beside me and I could feel the heat of Brill’s body behind me as she strode along as rear guard. The natural bubble that opened for Beverly expanded around Diane and me and did not close immediately behind Brill so we moved quickly. Bev obviously knew where we were going and she arrowed right for it. We carved through the crowds and into a gaping hole in the bulkhead that did not appear to have any doors at all. Above the hole a laser sign painted the word: Jump! on the bulkhead.

Just inside the door, Bev paused and leaned back for a short confab. “We’re meeting them here, right?”

Brill nodded. “Usual spot or as near to it as we can get.”

“Who are we meeting?” I asked Diane.

“Some people we know from other ships. A few from the Duchamp, and maybe some of Brill’s old shipmates from the Soyokaze. Beyond that, we’ll see what happens.”

Bev led the way and before long we had found a group of people who had chairs saved for us and pitchers of beer already on the table. Introductions went by in such a blur that none of them stuck. Several guys in leather, a couple of women in tailored suits, and at least one woman who made Beverly look like a girl scout. Her head was shaved and tattooed, the pierced breasts were bare under a spiked leather vest, and the muscle-builder bulk tipped the scales in her direction. Ironically, she had the most welcoming smile. I guess when you are built like that, you can afford to be friendly. Her name was Al. She was the astrogator from the Hedley and had the most amazing repertoire of dirty jokes.

Somewhere around then, a waitress in a cut down shipsuit showed up to take our orders. I took a simple gin and tonic. Not the typical drink for an eighteen-year-old, I suppose, but Mom always had a bottle of gin around and we would occasionally have one after she got home from school. “I hate to drink alone,” she said one time and that was that. I was only seventeen, but after my sixteenth birthday party, I never was tempted to overdo it again. The occasional gin and tonic did not seem to hurt me any.

The drink cost ten creds and when the server came back with it I did not start a tab. I knew better. It was, however, a strong drink and I knew I would need to keep an eye on it as the night wore on. The last thing I needed was a reputation as an easy drunk on my first night out. I settled in the empty chair next to Al and Brill grinned at me as she sat across the table. Bev was already circulating but kept an eye on us. Diane had a drink already as well, and she was chatting up a lanky guy in leathers. The snippets of conversation I could hear made me think she knew him already.

I turned to Al. “So? What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” I asked in a loud voice.

Brill almost spewed beer onto the floor and Al roared. The commotion attracted attention but I just sipped my drink and waited. Al turned to Brill. “He’s one of yours then, ain’t he?”

Brill grinned and gave a little shrug. “He works in my department, but don’t blame me for him. We found him that way.”

After that, we settled in for the evening. I kept one eye on my drink and the other open for the plumber. After a stan or so of easy drinking and sporadic dancing, the combined crews relaxed into an easy camaraderie. Al was a dear and we got on famously, all the implanted surgical steel notwithstanding. Several of the women in the group circulated around and occasionally sat down on the other side of me to strike up a conversation. Everyone seemed nice enough but there was not a lot of electricity in the air. The night had not yet gained escape velocity and nobody seemed too anxious to push the throttle. I got the feeling that something was coming, but it had not arrived yet.

Eventually, the crew from the Duchamp showed up—about eight of them. I paid attention because I knew that this was the crew that locked Pip in the scrubber for three stans as a joke and then hounded him off the ship. On the other hand, they were also the crew that found him a berth on the Lois rather than just stranding him ashore. I wondered if any of the people joining our party were involved in either incident.

Introductions raced around, and again almost everybody knew just about everybody else. I was the new meat and knew it. Two names stuck out when they floated across the table. Alicia Alvarez was the first and Steph Murdock was the second. The plumber had arrived.

Even if I had not heard the snippet of conversation earlier, Bev and Diane both bristled when Murdock joined the group. Steph Murdock was a hunter, one of those who were in it for the sport and not for the meat. She just wanted the kill. Brill looked like she had a bad taste in her mouth when she introduced us, and I was not sure why she was doing it. At that point, I had a pretty good idea of whose plumbing was the subject of concern—bless her heart.

Alicia Alvarez, on the other hand, was a real killer—petite, dark, vivacious with flashing eyes and olive skin much darker than even Bev’s or Tabitha’s. If I was gonna get killed, I knew who I wanted to do the deed as soon as I saw her, and even before I had met the plumber. She was the one who had told Pip that he needed to enjoy the ride. My breath caught in my throat as I thought of several delightful ways that might be interpreted.

Murdock wore a pair of slacks so tight they puckered and a top so loose she might as well not bothered. She plunked herself into the chair beside me and leaned in close. “So, you’re the new guy,” she said with a throaty growl. She leaned into me a bit, mashing a nicely padded breast into my upper arm, and I suddenly realized why they called this place Jump! There did not appear to be any speed limits. Brill was looking anywhere but in my direction, but I caught Bev glaring—not at me but at Murdock.

I leaned back a little so I could get my arm in a position to shake her hand. “Hi, my name is Ish. You’re Steph Murdock? Did I hear that correctly?”

She nodded with half lowered lids. “Yeah,” she purred. “We have a lot in common, I hear.”

“Really? You have me at a disadvantage then.”

“I used to be on the Lois,” she told me. “We have that in common.”

“That’s quite a coincidence.” I allowed and could sense even Al getting a little tense. I wondered why it was that so many women felt the need to protect me. I patted her beefy thigh discreetly under the table and slipped her a wink. She seemed surprised by the touch but I felt her relax.

“You used to be on the mess deck and now you work in environmental? Or so I hear.”

“You seem to know a lot about me,” I said. Brill caught my comment and tone. Diane was standing not two meters away with her back towards me but I could see held her head slightly turned with an ear cocked in our direction. I did my best not to laugh. Bless their hearts, all of them. Two days before and I would have been irate.

“Well, you know how it is, everybody wants to get to know the new guy,” she gushed and leaned in a little more. I had to admit that the cleavage was spectacular in a slutty, overdone, tasteless kind of way. I bet she was a very successful predator.

“Well, I suppose that’s true,” I said and sipped my drink. “So how did you come to leave the Lois and go to the Duchamp?” I thought I knew but I wanted confirmation.

“Oh, I used to work the mess deck there, just like you! I passed the half share test for engineman. I wanted

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