X

Corps⁠—or how they felt about me. This was an entirely different affair that had to be done neatly and with dispatch before I changed my mind.

I joined her at the bar and ordered two double shots of the local battery acid. Being careful, I deepened my voice and changed my accent and manner of speaking. Angelina had heard enough of my voice to identify it easily⁠—that was the one thing I had to be aware of.

“Drink up, doll,” I said, raising my drink and leering at her. “Then we go up to your place. You got a place don’t you?”

“I gotta place, you gotta League ten-spot in hard change?”

“Of course,” I grumbled, feigning insult. “You think I’m buying this bilge-juice on the arm?”

“I ain’t no cafeteria pay-on-your-way-out,” she said with a bored lack of interest that was magnificent. “Pay now and then we go.”

When I flipped the ten credits her way she speared it neatly out of the air, weighed it, bit it, and vanished it inside her belt. I looked on with frank admiration, which she would mistake for carnal interest, but was in reality appreciation of the faultless manner with which she played her role. Only when she turned away did I make myself remember that this was business not pleasure, and I had a stern duty to perform. My resolution was wavering and I screwed it tight again with a memory of corpses floating in space. Draining my glass I followed her marvelous rotation out of the bar and down a noisome alley.

The dark decrepitude of the narrow passage jarred my reflexes awake. Angelina played her part well, but I doubted if she bedded down with all the space tramps who hit this port. There was a good chance that she had a confederate around who had a strong right arm with a heavy object