Starlady & Fast-Friend Read Online Free PDF Page A

could’ve, one on one, no-knife against stingstick. No chance, though. An’ now, Hal’s all crottled. Marquis’ll never face him alone anyhow.”
    “You’re Hairy Hal,” Janey said evenly. “If he could take Marquis once, you can take him now. You can’t leave Golden Boy with him. You
can’t
. I love Golden Boy.”
    Hal looked up, wincing. “Hey, Starlady,” he said. “I’m spinning you straight. You want Hal cold?”
    “If you won’t do anything,” she said. “Yes.”
    He shrugged. “I hum to you, Janey,” he said suddenly, staring at her with something that was almost fear.
    “Wonderful. But you’ll never see me again.” She stood up. “Give me your no-knife, Hal. If you won’t try, I will.”
    “They’ll kill you, Starlady, or worse. Root down an’ listen. You won’t even find the Marquis.”
    “Yes I will. And he’ll face me one on one, too. You told me how, Hal. The Marquis is loud, remember? Well, me too. I’ll stand in the middle of the Silver Plaza and shout for him until he comes. He can hardly have his blackskulls gang up on me then. If he did, who’d ever get chilled again? Will you give me the no-knife?”
    “No,” he said, stubborn. “You’re wobbly.”
    “All right,” she replied, leaving.
* * *
    Night-cycle in the Plaza, and the silver-shining overheads were out. The wall-lights provided a different illumination, winking through their color-phases, alternately dyeing the faces of the revellers blue or red or green or violet. The dancers were out in force, music was everywhere, and the air was thick with the sweet gaiety of joy-smoke.
    On the polished stairway that curved up towards the second tier of shops, Starlady took her stand and began to spin.
    “Hey,” she called to the throngs below her, to the people pushing by, “Hey, stop and listen to me spin. You won’t soon have the chance. The Marquis is going to kill me.”
    Below, the off-worlders paused, curious, admiring. Whispers were exchanged. Prometheans shook their heads and grinned. And the swaggers in their swoopsuits, the redheads out to sell, the drooling dreamers and the men who doled out dreams, the pimps, the bodyguards, the dancers and the thieves—well, they knew what was going on. A show was coming. They stopped to watch.
    And Starlady spun, Starlady with the shiny, dark hair, in a suit of milky nightwhite that took the colors of the lights, Starlady with a black rod in her hand.
    “Marquis took my lover,” she shouted to the gathering crowd. “He chilled down Hal and stole the Golden Boy, but he hasn’t chilled down me.” And now the no-knife in her hand was alive, its ghost blade flickering strangely in the violet light. And Starlady was sheathed in purple, her face stained grim and somber.
    “I’ll kill him if he comes,” she said, as they drew away around her, leaving her alone on the stairs. “Me, Starlady, and I’ve never used a no-knife in my life.” The Plaza was growing quiet, tension spread outward like ripples in a pool. Here the talking stopped, there the dancers ceased to whirl, over in the corner a joyman killed his smoke machine. “But he won’t come, not Marquis, and I’ll tell you why. He’s chilled.”
    And now the light clicked over, and Starlady was a vision in green, the ghost blade a writhing bluish shadow. “You’ve seen him kill, starslummers,” she said, with a shake of emerald-dark hair. “And you’ve heard the wobbly spins, right? Marquis, who hums to pain. Marquis, Thisrock’s top ’stick.” She threw back her head and laughed. Over on the far side of the Plaza, they were muting their music and drifting her way. “Well, think now, have you ever seen him
fight
? Without his blackskulls? Without Crawney—” she pointed, and a man with a shiny striped skull straightened and glared and rushed towards the nearest corridor— “and Stumblecat—” she whirled the other way and picked him out lounging against a food stall, and Stumblecat smiled and