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people slept
everywhere. You practically had to step over them. There were plenty of vacant
buildings in the city, but I suppose some people like being outdoors.
    No street vendors were going to be able to fill
Jyen’s request, so I went looking around for some contacts. But my resources
down here were thin. This wasn’t my scene.
    I finally inched my way up the totem pole to
Grever Treest. I was hoping he would have what I was looking for or at least a
good portion. I knew him by name only and not even that well.
    I buzzed his door and I could tell he was
scanning me. Not sure if he knew who I was, but he was probably weighing
whether or not to open the door.
    After a moment he cracked it open. He had long
greasy hair, which I’m pretty sure is some galactic rule all drug dealers have
to possess. He had a sharp nose and was probably handsome to the ladies. I
personally had a motto of “always look for the ugliest drug dealer possible.”
Handsome people made bad killers and drug dealers—they had too many better
options in life.
    “Hello?” he asked through the cracked door.
    “I’m looking for some drugs,” I said, standing
in the hallway. I decided I was just going to be upfront. I don’t think Garm’s
police even bothered with Deadsouth.
    “Uh, who sent you?” he asked warily. I swear,
even on Belvaille, drug dealers had to be the most skittish people in
existence.
    “Does it matter? Look, I need a list filled.”
    He appraised me for a while.
    “Are you Hank?” he asked.
    “Yes,” I said, not knowing if that would be
good or bad.
    He opened the door warily. Inside it was just a
normal apartment, slightly messy. It was a version thirty-one layout. There
were only fifty or so different types of apartments in the whole city. I lived
in a version fifteen, which was larger but had fewer rooms. It smelled like
incense inside and there were music holograms on the walls.
    Grever closed the door and faced me, looking
uneasy. I handed him Jyen’s list to get right down to business.
    “I need this,” I said.
    He looked it over for a while.
    “Wow, this is some zippy-duty stuff. I didn’t
think you did drugs.”
    “I didn’t say they were for me. That’s just
what I need.”
    “Who’s it for?” he asked.
    That struck me as an odd thing to request.
    “Why do you want to know?”
    “Oh, I’m just—,” he stammered. “You know, with
the way things have been going lately, I just want to, you know, be sure who
I’m dealing with.”
    “You’re dealing with me. That’s all,” I said
calmly.
    Grever looked over the list again.
    “A few of these, more than a few, probably
aren’t anywhere in the entire state of Ginland. I don’t even know what this one
is,” he said, pointing.
    “How much of it can you get?”
    He took a deep breath and started adding it up.
Then he bit his lower lip.
    “Uh, this is going to cost a lot of credits to
put together.”
    “Give me an idea.”
    “Well, a lot.”
    “I’m on a schedule here. Do I have to go
elsewhere?”
    He added it up for a bit.
    “I can get half of this. It’ll cost about…”
Grever paused, looking at me closely. “15,000.”
    That was about what I was figuring, so I was
happy with that number.
    “If you can get me half I can get you 15K.”
    “When?” he asked.
    “Right now.” I took out a token with 30,000 as
proof.
    “Don’t move,” I heard a voice say behind me.
    I turned around. There was a shivering junkie
standing there holding a pistol pointed at me. A big pistol. His eyes were
screwed up, his hair a mess, and he had the blotchy, wrecked skin of someone
who had done a whole lot of drugs in his life.
    I really didn’t need this.
    “Crayv, man, put that away. This guy is
buying,” Grever yelled at him.
    “Shut up. Shut up. You, give me that token.
Give it here!”
    I looked at Grever. This was his apartment.
    “Crayv, what are you doing? This guy is Hank.
You know like from The News .”
    “I-I don’t care who he is,