Free Stardogs by Dave Freer

head full of a distant thunder. He was one of the privileged few who rode in Sal’s own groundcar. When they were clear of the carefully chosen neutral site Sal relaxed. “Well, Sam? What you think, huh?”
    Sam shook his head. “If we can do it San, it’s good. The fuckin’ League have had their foot on our necks for too long. But I don’t like that Caporegime from the Dakada-clan.”
    His master’s eyes narrowed. He knew of Sam’s instincts and used them. “We need the bastards. This thing’s too big for one family. The Dakada’s smuggling connections are important in this thing too, paisan . But afterwards…. “ he drew a thick finger across his throat. He put a big hand on Sam’s slight, wiry shoulder. “Sam. This one I want you to take.” And Sam once again had that feeling which had driven him to save this man’s life. His own life, he knew, stood at a cross-road. And none of the choices felt good.
    The next meeting was held in one of the clubs in the red-light district. The Green Door was not a Heiki place, but the family who owned it were old and trusted allies. Salvatore was at ease here. Sam was not. Prostitution was the norm in his world. Even so, this place gave him the creeps. It dealt explicitly in boys, drugs and pain. In the Imperial city, there was a niche market for almost any form of vice, and the Yak serviced all those niches.
    Sam moved around the back room like a stepping razor, eyes never truly still, hand close to the infamous .22. He watched that almond-eyed Dakada bastard in particular. That willowy individual was smoothly at ease however. He was the one who got the game of cards started while they waited. Sam didn’t play, but although he couldn’t swear to it, he thought the man cheated… with the intent to lose? Sam couldn’t figure it out. Eventually the one they waited for came.
    He was a footman. A man in Imperial service, even if he had carefully shed his livery. That morning he had been waiting on Princess Shari. His unpleasant tastes led him to frequent places like the Green Door. Indeed, these depraved tastes had left him putty in the hands of the Yak, who had pandered to him… and then enmeshed him.
    The cauliflower-eared waiter pushed him through the hidden doorway of the sound-screened back room. “He got caught up in watching the floorshow, boss.” A thin scream came down the passage. “He’d still be there if I hadn’t hurried him along.” The disdain in the waiter’s voice was unmistakable.
    “Thanks… Sergio.” The waiter left, closing the soundproof door behind him.
    The footman bowed servilely. His lips were wet and his eyes a little bright and wide from what he’d seen out there. “I… I thought it was best not to be too obvious coming in here. I was just lingering in the common-room awhile until I thought I could come here unobtrusively.”
    His excuse was greeted with silence. The kind of silence that is far more frightening than words. “I… I’ve got the itinerary. Dates, times… everything you wanted.” The footman was sweating freely now.
    Salvatore stood up, dwarfing the footman. He held out his hand. “Where is it, Eta ?”
    “It’s all in my head, Sir. I can’t leave the Imperial compound with a list like that! Selim Puk’s men would find it for sure!” The almond eyed card player put his cards face down with a slight smile. “But, honest, I’ve got it all memorized. Just give me some paper…”
    Salvatore looked at him, cocking his big bullet head slightly. “Don’t fuck about with me, mister.” He turned away, to the elegantly underdressed girl who had been serving drinks. “Bring pretty boy here some paper and a pen. And then scram, honey.” She left as fast as her stiletto heels could carry her. Once she’d returned with the paper and pen she again made a rapid exit. She’d been working in this house for two years now. She had a pretty good idea what might happen in that room, and she wanted no part of it.
    With