Free Angeleyes - eARC by Michael Z. Williamson Page B

something, and eating assets while they did. I considered a bunkie but they were all full, some of them double. I settled for a dock shower for ten marks and got clean, washed both suits and aired them dry, and even caught a nap in the heat dry nook that helped a bit. I’d need real berthing tonight, though. There weren’t going to be many hangouts. Everything was full with transients, and the cheapest all booked. Well, not the very cheapest, but uggh.
    There weren’t any openings stationside, either. I was glad for that M500. It was down to M450 and once that was gone I was down to my savings and previous pay.
    I went back to that nice restaurant, ordered their M10 hot chocolate, told the server I’d be right back, and went to their bathroom.
    Damn, it was nice. I cleaned up some more, brushed on some eyes, painted my lips and swapped out for my third outfit, a ziptop, diagonal zipped skirt, and stockings. I left M13 with the server, chugged the chocolate, which was good, but damn, that was a lot of money, then headed back to the dock.
    It was quieter, though still busy. I found the locker I keep there in Spaceman Spiffy’s Storage, shoved my bags in and pulled out a mini-pack. It was a bit musty, so I spritzed it with lemon sanitizer, shoved in money, batteries, my lock pin and some makeup, and closed back up. I chewed my lip for a moment, being careful of the lipstick, and decided to drop M25 on another three months’ locker rent now, against trouble later.
    Then I took ramps and slides to the Orbit Room.
    At the door, I heaved my cleave, glinted at the door dude, and he let me slide. I was dressed upscale enough, and was obviously going to milk customers for business. He understood I was freelance, not a pro, and there wouldn’t be any trouble.
    I was dizzy-tired, so I bought a stim and chugged it. In a few moments, I was dizzy-tired and wired awake at the same time. I knew I was going to be a bit off.
    The guys in the place saw skirt and cleave. I knew what they wanted, they knew what I was offering. I waited for the music to shift to something I liked, and slid onto the floor.
    At .8G and in those lights, the ziptop bounced with my chest and flickered colors. That was exactly what I wanted.
    In half an hour Caledonia clock, I had four men watching me very closely. None of them were hideous, but one of them would have to be very nice and loaded to be worth it, or have a Dick of Death.
    One of the others was probably married, if I guessed right. I wasn’t going to help with his drama.
    One was young. He was very nicely built on the slim side, and a charmer. One was right in my favorite zone, about thirty-five Earth years, confident and probably had decent money.
    I waggled a finger and he came out onto the floor. He wasn’t much of a dancer, but he could move and kept a nice touch on my shoulders, then my hips, without trying to grope. Oh, but he wanted to.
    I turned and rubbed close, then stepped back, and kept dancing. I let three songs go by, then stopped, and took his hand back to his table.
    “I’m Angie,” I said.
    “I’m Byron,” he said. He held my chair. That doesn’t happen often.
    “Thank you, and glad to meet you.”
    I like dancing. I like the lights, the movement, the shifting sensation, and that can be better on a station. I’d have stayed all night and skipped sleeping. But I really needed sleep, and a place to sleep.
    “What are you up to?” he asked.
    “I was on station in Grainne when they had that atmo leak. You heard?”
    “Yeah! What was that like?”
    “Scary. I hopped a ship and came here. I’m trying to get back onto another freighter, but it’s going to take me a couple of days. I haven’t been here since April, I think. I figured I’d stop in and dance.”
    The place was suddenly very full, all the chairs, all the floor. I’d been raising my voice to compensate.
    “How bad was the leak?”
    “Big enough I felt it,” I said. We talked on that for a bit, at a shout.