But, of course, she had no choice. When day-cycle came Janey told Hal what she must.

He gave her a smile. He did not get one back.

“You’ll work the Silver Plaza,” he told her, as he stood across the table and buckled a plastic belt. “Starlady’s fresh, an’ young, an’ she smells of stars, an’ that’s all good for trade. Mayliss’ll take the Concourse. Hal will take you round today, an’ spin out all the rules. Listen.”

She looked at the couch. “What about the boy?”

“Mayliss!” Hal bellowed. When she came, glaring, he gestured. “Stay an’ feed the Golden Boy, spin him soft when he blinks, an’ don’t let him fly. Hal’s got plans for Golden Boy.” He went back into his bedroom.

Mayliss watched his door shut with a sullen expression, then turned on Janey. “Why don’t you run, ship girl?” she said. “Run back to your ship. You don’t click here, and Hairy Hal don’t click so good himself. Scope him smart before you root, he isn’t all that much. You and Golden Boy will get shoved up an air duct if you believe his wobbly spin.”

Hal emerged from the bedroom, dressed in a black swoopshirt and his cape. “Seal it, redhead,” he told Mayliss. Then, to Janey: “First lesson, listen flow.” He reached across his body, beneath his cape, and his hand came out holding a finger-sized rod of black metal.

“No-knife,” he said. He did something with his thumb, and suddenly there was a humming, and a foot-long blue haze that stuck out from his fist. “They make them, well, not here. They come on ships. The force-blade’ll cut anything, cept durloy, an’ it’s clean an’ quick. Hal was good once, now not so good, but still he’s better than most. This is your protection, starlady. This is why you don’t get hit no more. Today Hal’s parading you round the Plaza, an’ the word gets out. Tomorrow no one touches you.”