Andromeda's Fall (Legion of the Damned) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the end of the block and took a right. The store, which was called Rewear, was directly ahead. There was no front door. Just a mesh gate that could be pulled down to protect the shop.
    Cat strolled in, cruised the aisles, looking for clothing in her size, and cautioned herself to forget about fashion. Twenty minutes later, she had three basic outfits including some new underwear, socks, and a knit cap. A pair of high-topped lace-up boots completed her wardrobe.
    Cat was filthy but elected to change into a “new” outfit anyway because the ripped evening gown was attracting attention, and she wanted to protect her feet. So when Cat emerged from Rewear, she was clad in the cap, which effectively hid her blond hair, a waist-length leather jacket that had plenty of mileage on it, and a pair of military-style trousers. They were baggy and cinched at the ankles. Scuffed boots completed the outfit. The rest of her wardrobe was stashed in the black suitcase that rattled along behind her.
    A short walk took Cat to a convenience store, where she purchased a first-aid kit, disinfectant, and some toiletries. By the time she left the store, Cat realized she was hungry. Very hungry. A stop at a food cart took care of that. The wrap was hot, greasy, and surprisingly good. She wolfed it down.
    At that point the only thing Cat wanted was a place where she could enjoy a hot shower, take care of the cut, and get some sleep. There were hotels. Lots of them. And no way to know what they were like. So with no information to go on, Cat chose the Get Away Hotel. A name that was certainly consistent with her circumstances.
    No bellbot came forward to help with her bag. The front door opened onto a seedy lobby that was furnished with a threadbare carpet, tired-looking furniture, and a pair of drooping plants. A fortresslike reception desk ran along the back wall. Only one of the two check-in windows was staffed. The desk clerk had thick black hair and a five o’clock shadow. He was perched on a stool, and there was something slimy about the way he eyed her. “Good evening, miss. What can I do for you?”
    A vid set was visible on the shelf behind him. Judging from the pictures, the fire on the fifth floor of the Imperial Tower had been put out. Had there been shots of her? Cat hoped not. “I need a room.”
    The man was wearing a sweat-stained tank top. And according to the name tag resting on the counter in front of him, his name was Fing Jat. “Of course,” Jat said. “Our singles cost one hundred credits per night. We take all major credit cards.”
    “I plan to pay with cash.”
    “Then I’ll need a deposit.”
    “Fine,” Cat replied as she brought her roll of cash out and counted some bills onto the table. The stash was made up of small bills so it looked more impressive than it actually was. “Here’s two hundred. I’d like a receipt please.”
    “This is a tough neighborhood,” Jat said judiciously. “Be careful where you flash your cash. And your name?”
    The first name that came to mind was that of a friend back home. “Harmon. Sissy Harmon.”
    “Okay, Miss Harmon, here’s your receipt, and a keycard. You’re in 808. The elevator is to your right.”
    Cat said, “Thank you,” and felt the full weight of Jat’s stare as she entered the elevator lobby. The lift made a sustained groaning noise as it carried her upwards. A man and a woman were waiting when the doors parted. They stepped to one side so she could pass.
    Cat took a right, made her way down the hall to 808, and slid the keycard into the slot. A light glowed green followed by an audible click . Cat entered a small room that reeked of stim-stick smoke. There was barely enough space to accommodate a full-sized bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. An attempt to activate the vidset on top of it failed.
    She could have requested a different room but was too tired to go through the hassle. Not yet anyway. So Cat lifted a blind and found herself looking down into a