Read To THE LAND OF THE ELECTRIC ANGEL: Hugo and Nebula Award Finalist Author (The Frontiers Saga) for Free Online Page A

hatred. Since he was a man, they would want to play games: Run and well chase you ... Walk on the edge of this slidewalk, it's only a fifty-meter drop ... Challenge one of us to a duel. Or else...
    The zongo gangs roamed every arcolog. If the police came they ran, knowing every chute and elevator – in this condo and out that delivery hatch, down that tube, up that access passage. They had lithe young bodies and good motivation for hiding. The police seldom gave chase for very long: they were older, and hadn't the motivation to run blindly down service halls with knocked-out light panels and deadfall traps.
    Blake looked down the curve of the mall, but few citizens were in sight. The Monte Carlo section was popular at this time of night, as the gaudy, rowdy Sinstrip would be later on. Few people in this area now – mainly service technicians, and they were faraway, either unseeing or deliberately unseeing. They had to work nights in this section, and the gangs might return anytime. White Suit laughed. "No loyal members of the constabulary in view, citizen slave."
    His knife grazed Blake's cheek. The designer tried to stay calm, to stall until a patrol craft floated by.
    "Forget it," White Suit said. "There's a Zeropop riot over in the university or somewhere."
    "It's a Living Standards protest, Lennie," the addict said.
    "Shut up, Weed." Lennie turned back to Blake, who had not moved. "In any case, no blackshirts, citizen slave, none at all."
    He pulled Blake toward the darkness of a support column covered with violent-colored posters, shoving him against a torn placard of George Clay's Law and Order Coalition. Lennie's chuckling laugh degenerated into a giggle, as if he could not help but laugh at the irony.
    Suddenly Blake was afraid. Up until then he had been startled, and apprehensive, but had had no real fear. They're kidding. They'll go away. But they weren't going away and they weren't kidding. Now Blake was afraid. Even as Lennie patted his body, looking for weapons, Blake was composing a headline: NOTED ENVIRONMENTALIST KILLED, VICTIM OF VIOLENCE. "The sad death of Blake Mason spurs Ark Director Bloch to sweeping reforms..."
    Death.
    Nothingness.
    Then, just as suddenly, the fear was gone, and anger replaced it. How dare they!
    "Duel or chase?"
    "Huh?"
    "Duel or chase, citizen slave?"
    The addict giggled, holding the knifepoint against Blake's throat.
    They don't rob for gain, only for thrills, Blake thought. Urban banditos! The anger spoke. "I don't feel like running."
    A wicked grin spread across Lennie's face. He stepped back, hands spread, the knife loose in his right.
    The addict backed off into the mall, looking in both directions and grinning crookedly. "Uh, looks okay, Lennie."
    "Come on, citizen slave," Lennie said, gesturing Blake out.
    "Where's mine?" Blake said, indicating the knife. Lennie shook his head, his eyes glittering. "Table stakes, citizen. You should carry."
    Blake didn't speak, but he edged forward. He saw Weed move toward him and realized the table stakes were high. Three to one, counting the knife.
    It's time to reduce the odds.
    He faked a lunge to the right, then broke left toward the mall space, then just as quickly threw himself to the right, toward the wall, hitting and bouncing, letting himself twist and roll along the ferroconcrete until he was almost behind Lennie.
    Lennie turned and Blake brought up his leg, kicking straight out from the knee, aiming for the crotch. Lennie twisted, avoiding it. But he stumbled, and Blake shoved at him, breaking past and striking at Weed. The addict lurched, blood on his cheek, but did not fall. Blake kicked at his feet and the twitching Weed crashed to the mall deck.
    With a strangled cry Lennie threw himself at Blake. His knife cut through Blake's jacket, caught on the tough creaseless fabric, and as Blake leaned backward the knife twisted from Lennie's grasp. He stumbled and fell to one knee. Blake grabbed at the knife, but it fell to the hard