>>6135019>>6135044>>6135067>>6135125>>6135621>>6135684Your blood is pounding in your ears. You rush over to the table and grab the data crystal, crushing it in your grip, ready to smash it against the wall. But your hand remains at your side. Finally, you slip the crystal resignedly into your pocket, and slump down on the bed. Her name comes unbidden to your lips, Alyla, carved forever into heavy stone, never to be heard by her again. You want nothing more than to reach down now and open the lockbox, to touch and smell and remember. But you don't. That way lies a darkness too cold and sharp to endure again.
That bastard. As if you didn't already know what you were doing; as if it even mattered. The night's ruined now. Spicebrew won't be enough: you need a distraction, something potent. Put things in balance. Tux mews at you from the windowsill. You get up to open a can of food for him, then grab your jacket, and then you're out the door.
---
"Prince Charming's here again," says Millee, nodding to a young man with chisel-cut features, sitting alone in a dark, noiseless corner of the club. He'd be almost handsome if it not for the sunken eyes and the grim, brooding disposition. He has on a jacket with a corporate insignia, which usually means a good tip for little fuss. You gotta love bureaucrats. This one, though, seems different. He's nursing a glass of nog, but not drinking it. He's not leering at the girls. Not even the servers. In fact, he seems more interested in the other customers.
"Don't even think about it," says Millee. "No one's been able to crack that one."
You weren't, of course. You've been working at the Albedo for two months now, and the word has finally come down from up on high that your mark is going be here tonight. Gaver Tane, prodigal son of the Tane family, sowing his wild oats before he settles down to a nice, quiet life of high politics. Nothing else matters. And once the job is done, you're offworld. You've got a shuttle waiting at the spaceport, and then a jump to who knows where. Another planet. Another mission. Another mark. Another life. Another life? You're already dead, honey. Don't forget that.
You glance at the timepiece on your wrist. Still got half an hour.
>"OK, I'll bite. Why 'Prince Charming'?">"No one? What's the pool up to on him?">"Whatever. I'm heading up to the lounge for a bit.">Write-in 