World's End

Page 21

ods, I can't believe what I did to myself yesterday.

How could I have done something that asinine?

I was sick half the night. I've never been drunk like that. It's this place. It must be.

This morning I swore to myself that if nothing changed today I'd give up this insanity. I'll never know if I meant it this time or not... because something finally happened.

I was back in C'uarr's place, as usual. A local man came over to me where I sat, nursing my drink and my queasy stomach. Finally I realized that he was interested in me, and I looked up at him.

He was tall and heavyset, closing in on middle age, with skin the color of leather and straight black hair. A Company man, I thought

... an ex-Company man. His dingy coveralls had no insignia or identification, only white patches that showed they'd been there once. A tarnished religious medal dangled against his chest; bitter lines bracketed

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his mouth. "You Gedda?" he asked.

I found my jaw clenching with resentment. I've gotten too used to this enforced solitude. I worked my tongue loose, and said, "Yes." I go by Gedda here. It suits me better than my own name, and it hides my identity from chance encounters. My real identity is a liability in a place like this . . . and besides that, meaningless.

The man sat down without waiting for an invitation.

I frowned, but said nothing. He stared at me, assessing

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JOAN D. VINGE

me in turn. There was something disturbing about his gaze. "I hear you're a Kharemoughi. A Tech?"

I nodded. "I was once."

The hooded eyes dropped to the scars on my wrists.

"What happened?"

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I turned my hands over, palms down on the damp tabletop. 'I got tangled up in Blue." The standard phrase for trouble with the police. I saw his mouth quirk.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Waiting."