Angeleyes - eARC Read Online Free PDF Page B

pointing gesture in line with his body. I saw where he pointed. There was a gap behind two tool lockers. I walked over, backed in with the bags and left them stacked in front of me.
    Okay, so he had some reason for me to hide, and seemed to be on my side. I caught my breath and waited. I could see out through a slit of gap between my duffel and the locker.
    A couple of segs later, I saw a UN uniform walk into view, check the hatch with a glance, check one of the consoles and a catwalk overhead, and walk back out of view.
    Trif. How long would I have to lurk here? Could I get out without one of their chips? Should I retrace my steps and accept it?
    My legs were aching by the time one of the maintenance crew came over and leaned against the wall.
    He muttered to himself, “Goddess, I can’t wait for that nosy fucker to take a break. He keeps butting into my overhaul. Maybe I can get something actually done when he takes lunch. Yup, there he goes, to the back corner, where I don’t have to look at him.”
    He glanced over at me and flicked his eyes toward the main hatch. Then he stood up and walked back to his job.
    I took the hint, slid out, walked to the hatch and through.
    There was another UN uniform on guard there. She looked me up and down as I carried the bags, so I said, “See you in two divs if you’re here.” I figure our clock would confuse her, and added, “About seven hours.”
    She started to say, “Nah, I’ll be . . .” then realized it was none of my business what her schedule was, and shut up, hoping she wasn’t getting herself in trouble.
    I don’t know if she thought about it anymore, but I was around the corner and out of her sight by then.
    Fuck. They’d moved in and held the stations at least. I didn’t want to be dirtside, but that might be safest if I could get a flight in. I just barely had enough funds for that.
    I hit a bar and watched some newsloads while eating a codfish sandwich. I caught up on the local codes on the station. It was a spacer and engineer bar, with lots of screens and chairs with small tables, and no music.
    I’d be able to walk around without being scanned, apparently, in the “interim.” I’d need the chip to rent lodging, arrive or depart, or take a job beyond day labor.
    That was a pain in the ass. I understood why day labor was exempt. A lot of transients arrive here, run out of funds, and our government won’t pay to send you anywhere. You can work or starve. Periodically, there’s an emergency appropriation to deport a couple of hundred of them to Sol system and throw them on the dole there. In between, they’ll do anything from hauling trash to sucking cock to publicly humiliating themselves for a cred or a mark.
    It’s not all that bad. But there’s a lot of them, they’re paid cash, and tracking them would be almost impossible. Some of them couldn’t even read and wouldn’t be anywhere near polite company for weeks. Some were sex slaves. Those poor people would actually benefit from this.
    I’d get screwed, and not the fun way.
    I had spendable funds in discreet cards, and I could tap my account here with a day’s notice, but I’d rather not. So I needed a place to stay.
    I had a couple of friends I could call, if they were still here. I wondered if it was safe to call, or if I should just show up in person. No one knew who I was, or even that I was here really. I hadn’t reached customs. I didn’t know how far they’d gone on surveying the resident population, or whatever it’s called.
    I called, voice only.
    “This is Lee,” he said as he answered. Lee runs a small repair shop that stays busy making components for trampers and station businesses. His wife programs nav systems and sometimes has to go aboard to tune and zero them. And that’s as much as I know about astrogation.
    “Lee, it’s Angie. I’m insystem.”
    “Oh, hi! How are you?”
    “Broke, I’m afraid. Can you put me up for a night or two? I don’t mind sharing.” I