Allies Read Free

into its belt-holder. "Years ago that'd be. How's she
fare?"
    "She's sick," Miri said, and hesitated, then
blurted. "You know anybody's got work–steady work? I can do some
mechanical repair, and duct work and chimney clearing and–"
    Liz held up a broad hand. Miri stopped,
swallowing, and met the brown eyes steady as she could.
    "Happens I have work," Liz said slowly.
"It's hard and it's dangerous, but I'm proof it can be good to you.
If you want to hear more, come on inside and take a sup with me.
Grover does a decent stew, still."
    Miri hesitated. "I don't–"
    Liz shook her head. "Tradition. Recruiting
officer always buys."
    Whatever that meant, Miri thought, and then
thought again about Torbin and her father being on the loose.
    "Your momma all right where she is?" Liz
asked and Miri nodded.
    "Staying with Braken and Kale," she said.
"Won't nobody get through Kale."
    "Good. You come with me."
    *
    "Grew up here," Liz said in her lazy way,
while Miri worked through her second bowl of stew. "Boss Peterman's
territory it was then. Wasn't much by way of work then, neither.
Me, I was little bit older'n you, workin' pick-up and on the side.
Your momma, she was baker over–well, it ain't here now, but there
used to be a big bake shop over on Light Street. It was that kept
us, but we was looking to do better. One day, come Commander
Feriola, recruitin', just like I'm doin' now. I signed up for to be
a soldier. Your momma . . ." She paused, and took a couple minutes
to kinda look around the room. Miri finished her stew and
regretfully pushed the bowl away.
    "Your momma," Liz said, "she wouldn't go
off-world. Her momma had told her there was bad things waitin' for
her if she did, and there wasn't nothin' I could say would move
her. So I went myself, and learned my trade, and rose up through
the rank, and now here I'm back, looking for a few bold ones to
fill in my own command."
    Miri bit her lip. "What's the pay?"
    Liz shook her head. "That was my first
question, too. It don't pay enough, some ways. It pays better'n
whorin', pays better'n odd jobs. You stand a good chance of gettin'
dead from it, but you'll have a fightin' chance. And if you come
out on the livin' side of that chance, and you're smart, you'll
have some money to retire on and not have to come back to Surebleak
never again."
    "And my pay," Miri persisted, thinking about
the drug Braken thought might be had, over to Boss Abram's turf,
that might stop the blood and heal her mother's lungs. "I can send
that home?"
    Liz's mouth tightened. "You can, if that's
what you want. It's your pay, girl. And believe me, you'll earn
it."
    Braken and Kale, they'd look after her
mother while she was gone. 'Specially if she was to promise them a
piece. And it couldn't be no worse, off-world than here, she
thought–could it?
    "I'll do it," she said, sounded maybe too
eager, because the woman laughed. Miri frowned.
    "No, don't you spit at me," Liz said,
raising a hand. "I seen temper."
    "I thought–"
    "No, you didn't," Liz snapped. "All you saw
was the money. Happens I got some questions of my own. I ain't
looking to take you off-world and get you killed for sure. If I
want to see you dead, I can shoot you right here and now and save
us both the fare.
    "And that's my first question, a soldier's
work being what it is. You think you can kill somebody?"
    Miri blinked, remembering the feel of the
gun in her hand–and blinked again, pushing the memory back
away.
    "I can," she said, slow, "because I
have."
    Liz pursed her lips, like she tasted
something sour. "Have, huh? Mind sharing the particulars?"
    Miri shrugged. "'Bout a year ago. They was
kid slavers an' thought they'd take me. I got hold of one of their
guns and–" she swallowed, remembering the smell and the woman's
voice, not steady: Easy kid . . .
    ". . . and I shot both of 'em," she finished
up, meeting Liz's eyes.
    "Yeah? You like it?"
    Like it? Miri shook her head. "Threw
up."
    "Huh. Would you do it again?"
    "If I had to,"