Tundell went sailing out of the group, his face spewing blood. He flew across the corridor, crashing into the bunk stack on the other side, after which he drifted limply, globules of blood drifting around his head.
Chapter 2
17 August 2103 AD
The violence had come and gone so fast that the street kid was standing with his mouth wide in shock. After a moment, he stared at Ron with a new respect. "Wow!" He said, "That was incredible!"
Ron smiled weakly. He was relieved that he had escaped a beating, but worried that his encounter with Tundell was only the beginning. He shook his head. "I was lucky," he replied. "If we hadn't been in free fall, or if he had known how to fight in zero-gee, that would be me over there!" He hooked a thumb toward the gently drifting figure of the big man. Flight attendants were already closing in to take the man to the med bay.
He turned to Vlad as the kid turned away to watch the attendants at work. "I'm afraid this calls for a change in plans," he said. "There are two ways this dustup can turn out. Sometimes, these street toughs will have no hard feelings, just respect for the man that beat them. More likely, though, as soon as he's physically able, he'll gather a couple of his new buddies and come back to beat me up or kill me.
"As soon as Manny comes back," he continued, "I'm going to have to get out of this dorm. We'll divide up our purchases, and I'll head for one of the Drone dorms. There will almost certainly be thugs there that would like to move here, to hire on with a dorm boss."
Vlad looked troubled. "I understand, Ron." He hesitated. "If you don't mind," he continued after a moment, "I'd like to accompany you. With Tundell and those two street gang thugs in this bunk group, I foresee only years of bullying and brutality here."
Ron frowned. "I don't know, Vlad. Don't forget, the Drones are nearly all uneducated, illiterate Asians. There are very great cultural differences, among other things."
Vlad chuckled. "If by 'other things' you mean racism, I don't expect that to be a problem. I'm black, and I've had Asian shop assistants before. I don't look down on them; in fact they're some of the finest craftsmen I've ever had. And if you mean educational snobbery, I think you'll find I don't suffer from that particular affliction."
Ron nodded. "All right. As soon as Manny returns, we'll start circulating in the Drone dorms."
It was quite late by the time Manny got back. He was carrying a small cloth bag.
"This is half of the stuff," he said. "I stashed the rest. That was the weapons and stuff I din't wanna get caught carrying. You'll have to fetch those yourself."
Ron nodded. "How did you do?"
Manny produced Ron's list, now creased and crumpled. "I got everything except the hush field generator and the stun grenades. You've got a blaster and three power packs, and two lasers with two each. I even got you a practice rig for the laser, reduced power and all. I also got you holsters for the blaster and lasers. Then you got two stunners with four spare power packs, four fighting knives and four practice knives. And then the wrist comps, army survival kits and the other stuff. But we're gonna have to talk about my cut. Those weapons were more expensive than I thought. I listed the prices there."
Ron scrutinized the list. If Manny had listed the actual prices he paid, only about a thousand remained of their credits. But a thousand credits was still a lot of money.
"All right Manny," he said. "You did very well for us. How does five hundred sound for your cut?"
"Make it six."
"Tell you what, Manny," Ron said. "Vlad and I are about to move to another dorm. We'll give you the six, and you forget you ever met us."
Manny grinned. "Another fifty and I never heard of ya."
He took Ron to the service conduit where he'd stashed the weapons, and waited while Ron checked them against the list. Most of the weapons were well worn, but he had no doubt they were serviceable. They had most likely
Chapter 2
17 August 2103 AD
The violence had come and gone so fast that the street kid was standing with his mouth wide in shock. After a moment, he stared at Ron with a new respect. "Wow!" He said, "That was incredible!"
Ron smiled weakly. He was relieved that he had escaped a beating, but worried that his encounter with Tundell was only the beginning. He shook his head. "I was lucky," he replied. "If we hadn't been in free fall, or if he had known how to fight in zero-gee, that would be me over there!" He hooked a thumb toward the gently drifting figure of the big man. Flight attendants were already closing in to take the man to the med bay.
He turned to Vlad as the kid turned away to watch the attendants at work. "I'm afraid this calls for a change in plans," he said. "There are two ways this dustup can turn out. Sometimes, these street toughs will have no hard feelings, just respect for the man that beat them. More likely, though, as soon as he's physically able, he'll gather a couple of his new buddies and come back to beat me up or kill me.
"As soon as Manny comes back," he continued, "I'm going to have to get out of this dorm. We'll divide up our purchases, and I'll head for one of the Drone dorms. There will almost certainly be thugs there that would like to move here, to hire on with a dorm boss."
Vlad looked troubled. "I understand, Ron." He hesitated. "If you don't mind," he continued after a moment, "I'd like to accompany you. With Tundell and those two street gang thugs in this bunk group, I foresee only years of bullying and brutality here."
Ron frowned. "I don't know, Vlad. Don't forget, the Drones are nearly all uneducated, illiterate Asians. There are very great cultural differences, among other things."
Vlad chuckled. "If by 'other things' you mean racism, I don't expect that to be a problem. I'm black, and I've had Asian shop assistants before. I don't look down on them; in fact they're some of the finest craftsmen I've ever had. And if you mean educational snobbery, I think you'll find I don't suffer from that particular affliction."
Ron nodded. "All right. As soon as Manny returns, we'll start circulating in the Drone dorms."
It was quite late by the time Manny got back. He was carrying a small cloth bag.
"This is half of the stuff," he said. "I stashed the rest. That was the weapons and stuff I din't wanna get caught carrying. You'll have to fetch those yourself."
Ron nodded. "How did you do?"
Manny produced Ron's list, now creased and crumpled. "I got everything except the hush field generator and the stun grenades. You've got a blaster and three power packs, and two lasers with two each. I even got you a practice rig for the laser, reduced power and all. I also got you holsters for the blaster and lasers. Then you got two stunners with four spare power packs, four fighting knives and four practice knives. And then the wrist comps, army survival kits and the other stuff. But we're gonna have to talk about my cut. Those weapons were more expensive than I thought. I listed the prices there."
Ron scrutinized the list. If Manny had listed the actual prices he paid, only about a thousand remained of their credits. But a thousand credits was still a lot of money.
"All right Manny," he said. "You did very well for us. How does five hundred sound for your cut?"
"Make it six."
"Tell you what, Manny," Ron said. "Vlad and I are about to move to another dorm. We'll give you the six, and you forget you ever met us."
Manny grinned. "Another fifty and I never heard of ya."
He took Ron to the service conduit where he'd stashed the weapons, and waited while Ron checked them against the list. Most of the weapons were well worn, but he had no doubt they were serviceable. They had most likely