Chapter 7

He was dressed in a buff shipsuit. His eyes were the color of rare green-fire opals, and his hair, tied back from his face in a queue, was pure white, although it was easy to see that had nothing to do with age. His skin was smooth and unlined.

“Odd. They don’t usually stop here.”

“‘They?’”

“That’s a young sir, Sloff.” He could tell from his bearing alone.

“That is odd. Don’t usually stop anywhere on Dive Row. Slumming, you think?”

“Maybe. For whatever reason he’s here, you’re right. We’re gonna have trouble.”

A quartet of cargo techs had finished a triple shift earlier. They’d already been on the way to being drunk, most likely having hit other dives on the Row before they got to the Pit. One look at Rinig’s face, and they’d reined in their boisterous drunkenness.

Now they were showing marked interest in the young sir.

Rinig could hear wagers being made as to who would have him first, and he had no doubt the young sir could hear them, too.