got
nothing to gain here. I got no percentage in saying anything."
She shook her head slowly. "Oh, no, friend, you know I'm going to kill you. And
in your case I'm going to take my time."
CHAPTER 4
« ^ »
Morning, Nan," she said, at the door of the Registry, and Nan looked at her
oddly and tilted her head as she unlocked.
"You're right cheerful," Nan said.
She nodded. And went and had her morning cup of coca, in the back, out of view
of the couple of clients that were coming in the door—that being an employee
privilege.
Rico was going to wonder for maybe an hour this mainday evening, when Terry
failed to show. And maybe he'd call up the apartment and maybe leave a message,
but Terry's kind was cheap, Terry's kind was the sort that showed up to work a
stretch and then got his life in a mess and just dropped out of sight. Rico
might have a new alterday man by mainday next, that was all Rico was likely to
do. Meanwhile Terry's card still had credit in the bank, it worked in the
vending machines—she wasn't fool enough to walk into some restaurant and claim
to be Terrence Ritterman; she just used the machines, just cheap stuff, just to
tell anybody who happened to check the card-use records that Terry Ritterman was
still walking around, no reason for alarm unless someone had specific reason to
be alarmed.
And was it unusual if alterday help in a skutty bar walked out one shift-change
with some piece of ass that might have more money than he did, and just not
bother to tell the owner he wasn't coming back?
She could live off stuff in the apartment, but she wanted to keep the card
active. So she'd had this morning's breakfast out of the dockside vending
machines. You didn't need an access code check for that, you just slipped it in
and out came breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. There'd been a little cash in
Ritterman's pocket. Eight cred. She knew where that could turn to a cheap
duffle: she could use that, for when the ship came; that and a few other
necessaries off Ely's cred a day, that she could save now.
She'd left the body in the bedroom, she'd turned the heat off in there, she had
stuffed the vents and cracks under the door and sealed everything up with tape.
It could get real unpleasant in a week or so, but there were no neighbors close
and if people noticed a scruffy spacer coming and going out of Terry Ritterman's
apartment, all they could figure was, she was crazy as he was for hanging around
with him. And nobody much bothered a crazy woman.
She'd washed the jumpsuit, she'd had herself a shower, she'd scrubbed with
perfumed soap and she'd given herself a haircut; and Ely gave her a second look
when he came in. Looked pleasantly surprised to see her scrubbed-up and
cheerful, as if he'd really done something spectacularly good with his charity.
"Looking good, Yeager."
"Adds up," she said back, and grinned. "Few meals don't hurt, stationer-man."
She had a real warm feeling for people like Nan and Ely. They were probably real
happy doing good. And it was really too bad, they were probably going to shake
their heads and have long second thoughts about their helping strangers when
station-law found what was in that apartment bedroom and linked everything up.
Damn mess was what. Get herself a ship out of here, get clear back to Sol if she
had to, change ships where she could, just keep moving far enough and long
enough and stay alive.
The Old Man was operating hell and gone away from here. Africa was still alive,
and maybe she could be lucky enough, sometime, somehow, to match up her course
and the Fleet's. Meanwhile she just hoped to hell to avoid Alliance law and
Mallory's attention. That was the thing gave her the chills, that turncoat
Mallory was out hunting her old friends, and Norway made these ports from time
to time, Mallory being respectable now. The rest of them had come up on the
losing side, that was all, and Mallory was smart, Mallory had gotten