The Fringe Wars

2.5

Reyne frowned as held out his left forearm, which had his comm strapped on it, below the taxi's flashing scanner. "Thirty-one credits? That's robbery."

"You could have three girls for that and still have a credit left over," Sixx said before adding, "Just a guess."

The taxi doors unlocked. "Thank you for your payment, Mr. Smyth," it said, calling Reyne by his cover name. "Remember to don your breather masks, and have a nice day."

The two men slid their masks over their faces and emerged from the hovercraft. They had just stepped out before the taxi's next fare rushed past them and hopped in. As with all stationhouses, the structure was packed with people during business hours. Reyne didn't miss the CUF drones hovering over the crowd at intervals of thirty feet, give or take. He suddenly found himself thankful for the need to wear breather masks that hid their faces.

The two men moved with the crowd toward the large entrance. Advertisements played on the walls and ceilings as they made slow headway with the herd through the tunnel. Many ads were for blue tea, but there were also ads for prostitutes, sweet soy, and the ever-popular adventure tours through Spate's deserts and canyons.

Other than brands and logos, no advertisements showed words of any kind. Like all fringe colonies, education was a luxury when it was a constant effort to find enough food and water. Generally, only the small minority of colonists who served in the CUF—like Reyne—had learned to read. It was a skill he'd taught to his entire crew.

When they approached the end of the tunnel, the screens transitioned from advertisements to a clip of a beautiful woman removing her mask and inhaling sensually.

Reyne delayed, wishing they could afford cloned skin disguises to hide their identities. Tense, he pulled off his mask and tucked it into his belt. "Be careful not to look up at any screens. They log either one of our faces, we're done for."

"Here goes nothing," Sixx said quietly before sliding off his mask.

They stepped from the tunnel and into a wide-open hall filled with vendors. The smell of food and incense overloaded Reyne's senses, heightened by too many years in space, and he breathed through his mouth. No longer shoulder to shoulder with other traders and customers, the pair strode forward to stand in line before a row of scanners that were mounted across the floor like a series of fence posts. Fortunately, the lines moved quickly as people made appointments with particular traders or vendors, or purchased reservations to the higher-end restaurants or brothels.

When a scanner opened up, Reyne pulled out the pass-card Critch had given him and swiped it over the scanner. The scanner flashed, and a thin computer stick dropped into the tray. Reyne grabbed the stick.

"Welcome to the Devil Town stationhouse, Mr. Smyth, where you're guaranteed to leave satisfied," the stick's sexy, automated voice said. "Proceed to the door indicated on the map to begin your adventure."

A map hologram displayed from the stick. Reyne shot Sixx a quick glance before they moved in unison, weaving around the crowd, careful to give any dromadiers patrolling the area a wide berth.

When they reached a door, the stick spoke again. "I am your key, Mr. Smyth. Please insert me into the lock. It may be tight, but I'm sure you can make it fit."

Reyne did as instructed. When he slid the stick into the small opening, the stick emitted a moan of ecstasy.

"Oh, yes. That hits the spot. Thank you, Mr. Smyth. You may now proceed. May your visit to Devil Town fulfill all your fantasies."

The door opened, and the two men stepped through. Whereas the great hall behind them was a bustle of activity, they now found themselves in an empty, winding corridor. Their boot steps echoed as they walked. When a third pair of boot steps joined the echoes, Reyne tensed and noticed Sixx placed his hand over his holster.