Free Allies by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller Page B

Miri could slide through just
fine.
    Even if there wasn't work, there'd be
coffeetoot, thick and bitter from havin' been on the stove all day,
and Trey was sure to give her a mug of the stuff, it bein' his idea
of what was–
    A shadow stepped out from behind the
tavern's garbage bin. Miri dodged, but her father had already
grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. Agony screamed
through her shoulder, and she bit her tongue, hard. Damn' if she'd
let him hear her yell. Damn' if she would.
    "Here she is," Robertson shouted over her
head. "Gimme the cash!"
    Out of the tavern's doorway came another
man, tall and fat, his coat embroidered with posies and his beard
trimmed and combed. He smiled when he saw her, and gold teeth
gleamed.
    "Mornin', Miri."
    "Torbin," she gasped–and bit her tongue
again as her father twisted her arm.
    "That's Mister Torbin, bitch."
    Torbin shook his head. "I pay less for
damaged goods," he said.
    Robertson grunted. "You want my advice, keep
her tied up and hungry. She's bad as her ol' lady for sneaking
after a man and doin' him harm."
    Torbin frowned. "I know how to train my
girls, thanks. Let 'er go."
    Miri heard her father snort a laugh.
    "Gimme my money first. After she's yours,
you can chase her through every rat hole on Latimer's turf."
    "But she ain't gonna run away, are you,
Miri?" Torbin pulled his hand out of a pocket and showed her a gun.
Not a homemade one-shot, neither, but a real gun, like the Boss's
security had.
    "Because," Torbin was saying, "if you try
an' run away, I'll shoot you in the leg. You don't gotta walk good
to work for me."
    "Don't wanna work for you," she said, which
was stupid, and Robertson yanked her arm up to let her know it.
    "That's too bad," said Torbin. "'Cause your
dad here's gone to a lot a trouble an' thought for you, an' found
you a steady job. But, hey, soon's you make enough to pay off the
loan an' the interest, you can quit. I don't hold no girl 'gainst
her wants."
    He grinned. "An' you–you're some lucky girl.
Got me a man who pays a big bonus for a redhead, an' other one
likes the youngers. You're, what–'leven? Twelve, maybe?"
    "Sixteen," Miri snarled. This time the pain
caught her unawares, and a squeak got out before she ground her
teeth together.
    "She's thirteen," Robertson said, and Torbin
nodded.
    "That'll do. Let 'er go, Chock."
    "M'money," her father said again, and her
arm was gonna pop right outta the shoulder, if–
    "Right." Torbin pulled his other hand out of
its pocket, a fan of greasy bills between his fingers. "Twenty
cash, like we agreed on."
    Her father reached out a shaky hand and
crumbled the notes in his fist.
    "Good," said Torbin. "Miri, you 'member what
I told you. Be a good girl and we'll get on. Let 'er go,
Chock."
    He pushed her hard and let go her arm.
Expected her to fall, prolly, and truth to tell, she expected it
herself, but she managed to stay up and keep moving, head down,
straight at Torbin.
    She rammed her head hard into his crotch,
heard a high squeak. Torbin went down to his knees, got one arm
around her; she twisted, dodged, was past, felt the grip on her
shirt, and had time to yell before she was slammed into the side of
the garbage bin. Her sight grayed, and out of the mist she saw a
fist coming toward her. She dropped to the mud and rolled, sobbing,
heard another shout and a hoarse cough, and above it all a third
and unfamiliar voice, yelling–
    "Put the gun down and stand where you are or
by the gods I'll shoot your balls off, if you got any!"
    Miri froze where she was, belly flat to the
ground, and turned her face a little to see–
    Chock Robertson standing still, hands up at
belt level, fingers wide and empty.
    Torbin standing kinda half-bent, hands
hanging empty, his gun on the ground next to his shoe.
    A rangy woman in neat gray shirt and neat
gray trousers tucked tight into shiny black boots. She was holding
a gun as shiny as the boots easy and business-like in her right
hand. Her hair was brown and