Starlady & Fast-Friend by George R. R. Martin Page B

hand, and took it off the table.
    Then he smiled at her. “Easy to get hurt,” he repeated.
    She chewed her lip. “Can’t you get it replaced?”
    He laughed. “Probly, starlady, on Rhiannon. Probly Prometheans could, too. But Hal’s here, and Thisrock forgot a lot during the Collapse. No. Not even if Hal was an insider, an’ Hal is no insider. Hairy Hal is a starslum pimp.”
    Janey’s eyes widened. “I don’t care,” she said. “You’re better than those others. You helped us.”
    Behind him Mayliss laughed. Hal ignored her. “Hey now, starlady,” he said smiling, “Listen and learn, an’ learn quick. Starslummers don’t help anyone, less they get a slice. Hal is no hero, he didn’t even try to stop that rip an’ rape, right? But Hal is offering you good, and straight, so listen to him spin. Starlady and Golden Boy can stay here till day-cycle. When the lights come on, they got to pick. One, go out and take their chances, and good luck. Two—” he cocked his head questioningly—“they stay and work for Hal.”
    He lifted his right arm then, struggling and trembling, without using his left. It hit the table with a thump. Mayliss was laughing again. “Hairy Hal was good with a no-knife,” he said, patting his arm with his good hand. “Still, this. Pick.”
    Well, I told you he wasn’t a hero.
    Janey’s face went baffled at first, as she listened to Hal’s words. Then, despite herself, she began to cry. Mayliss kept on laughing, but Hal’s smile faded then. He shrugged, and shook his head, and went to bed.
    The tears stopped in time and Janey sat alone, watching pink shadows race across the room. After a long time, her gaze wandered to Golden Boy asleep on the couch, and she went to him and curled up on the floor so her face was close to his. She stroked his silvery hair, and smiled at him, and thought.
    But, of course, she had no choice. When day-cycle came Janey told Hal what she must.
    He gave her a smile. He did not get one back.
    “You’ll work the Silver Plaza,” he told her, as he stood across the table and buckled a plastic belt. “Starlady’s fresh, an’ young, an’ she smells of stars, an’ that’s all good for trade. Mayliss’ll take the Concourse. Hal will take you round today, an’ spin out all the rules. Listen.”
    She looked at the couch. “What about the boy?”
    “
Mayliss!
” Hal bellowed. When she came, glaring, he gestured. “Stay an’ feed the Golden Boy, spin him soft when he blinks, an’ don’t let him fly. Hal’s got plans for Golden Boy.” He went back into his bedroom.
    Mayliss watched his door shut with a sullen expression, then turned on Janey. “Why don’t you run, ship girl?” she said. “Run back to your ship. You don’t click here, and Hairy Hal don’t click so good himself. Scope him smart before you root, he isn’t all that much. You and Golden Boy will get shoved up an air duct if you believe his wobbly spin.”
    Hal emerged from the bedroom, dressed in a black swoopshirt and his cape. “Seal it, redhead,” he told Mayliss. Then, to Janey: “First lesson, listen flow.” He reached across his body, beneath his cape, and his hand came out holding a finger-sized rod of black metal.
    “No-knife,” he said. He did something with his thumb, and suddenly there was a humming, and a foot-long blue haze that stuck out from his fist. “They make them, well, not here. They come on ships. The force-blade’ll cut anything, cept durloy, an’ it’s clean an’ quick. Hal was good once, now not so good, but still he’s better than most. This is your protection, starlady. This is why you don’t get hit no more. Today Hal’s parading you round the Plaza, an’ the word gets out. Tomorrow no one touches you.”
    “Cept Marquis,” Mayliss said. Her tone was cutting. “Cept Marquis and Crawney and Stumblecat, and any other blackskull who wants you. They get you free, starlady, and they do anything they want with you, and Hal don’t do a