latter. The capsule doors were about to close again.
"There's nothing for us in Hubble City. Stick close, and for Shaitan's sake keep an eye on my backpack.
Everything we've got's in it, and I'm a sitting pigeon for pickpockets and cutpurses."
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...y%20-%20Fall%20of%20the%20White%20Ship%20Avatar.htm (9 of 242)23-2-2006 17:03:12
[Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR
"Sitting duck," Floyt corrected automatically, taking up his station behind Alacrity and a hair to the left.
They stepped out of the capsule. In that arrangement, one Alacrity had taught him, Floyt's right hand and arm were blocked from view and he could reach for the Webley with a certain amount of concealment.
The capsule's doors closed and it slid away silently except for a rushing turbulence in the air.
Four of the healthier-looking idlers, three men and a woman, casually moved to take a better look at the new arrivals, obstructing the way. Floyt waited for a signal, sweat starting in his mustache, but Alacrity gave none.
As they closed on the strongarm group, Alacrity simply stopped, resettling his pack a bit, and put his hand on the grip of the Captain's Sidearm. Floyt kept watch on what was going on to the sides and behind them.
The music stopped and the dancers edged toward cover. The banter and goofing died away too as people took prudent steps to avoid possible lines of fire. Quite a few hungry, fearful glances were turned their way and Floyt compelled himself to glower in return.
The muscle were watching Alacrity. He sneered at them in some language Floyt hadn't heard before, tugging at his own clothes and pack, and gesturing to Floyt. The challenge wasn't too hard to figure out, given Alacrity's previous attitude in that kind of crisis. The two companions were more prosperous looking than most boxtown visitors, but they were armed and knew the ropes. Alacrity's question, in slum patois, conceding that pack and clothes had some value, had to be: But are they worth your lives?
Floyt drew the Webley, letting the lanyard ring at its base swing and clink, putting a hard squint on his face, keeping watch on their rear and flanks for a sneak attack. There was a profound silence on the platform.
In the midst of it, Floyt thumbed back the revolver's hammer, a sound that hung in the air. Not many hours before he'd been in the somewhat ensnaring lap of luxury, Hero of the Terran Weal, seemingly Earthbound for life. In retrospect, that fate had certain points to recommend it.
The muscle began to spread out to either side, to outflank them. Alacrity yanked out the Captain's Sidearm. It was a big, matte-black weapon with a basket hand-shield to protect the firer from blast and backlash.
"Ah! Now just go back and sit where you were, or we start hosing!"
Floyt brought the revolver up into the clear. The muscle looked at one another. Floyt had seen Alacrity kill their kind in another boxtown, not so long before. Then Floyt hadn't been obliged to fire; now it looked different. An altogether inappropriate time, but he found himself wrestling with his doubts.
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...y%20-%20Fall%20of%20the%20White%20Ship%20Avatar.htm (10 of 242)23-2-2006 17:03:12
[Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR
The eyeing and silent debate among the muscle ended. They started a retreat to the main corridor that led up into the boxtown proper, seeming to surrender the field.
"Uh-uh!" Alacrity hollered, waving the energy pistol's muzzle, which was wide enough to fire walnuts.
" You stay here. Get back where you were, or you'll all four of you get a real hot bath!"
They didn't like it, but they obeyed, eyes on his.
"Sit all the way down, pants on the pavement. And sit on your hands while you're at it!" Alacrity snarled, and they did. Guns held at waist level, Alacrity and Floyt backed into the corridor.
Floyt glanced back over his shoulder every few paces—or, more
"There's nothing for us in Hubble City. Stick close, and for Shaitan's sake keep an eye on my backpack.
Everything we've got's in it, and I'm a sitting pigeon for pickpockets and cutpurses."
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...y%20-%20Fall%20of%20the%20White%20Ship%20Avatar.htm (9 of 242)23-2-2006 17:03:12
[Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR
"Sitting duck," Floyt corrected automatically, taking up his station behind Alacrity and a hair to the left.
They stepped out of the capsule. In that arrangement, one Alacrity had taught him, Floyt's right hand and arm were blocked from view and he could reach for the Webley with a certain amount of concealment.
The capsule's doors closed and it slid away silently except for a rushing turbulence in the air.
Four of the healthier-looking idlers, three men and a woman, casually moved to take a better look at the new arrivals, obstructing the way. Floyt waited for a signal, sweat starting in his mustache, but Alacrity gave none.
As they closed on the strongarm group, Alacrity simply stopped, resettling his pack a bit, and put his hand on the grip of the Captain's Sidearm. Floyt kept watch on what was going on to the sides and behind them.
The music stopped and the dancers edged toward cover. The banter and goofing died away too as people took prudent steps to avoid possible lines of fire. Quite a few hungry, fearful glances were turned their way and Floyt compelled himself to glower in return.
The muscle were watching Alacrity. He sneered at them in some language Floyt hadn't heard before, tugging at his own clothes and pack, and gesturing to Floyt. The challenge wasn't too hard to figure out, given Alacrity's previous attitude in that kind of crisis. The two companions were more prosperous looking than most boxtown visitors, but they were armed and knew the ropes. Alacrity's question, in slum patois, conceding that pack and clothes had some value, had to be: But are they worth your lives?
Floyt drew the Webley, letting the lanyard ring at its base swing and clink, putting a hard squint on his face, keeping watch on their rear and flanks for a sneak attack. There was a profound silence on the platform.
In the midst of it, Floyt thumbed back the revolver's hammer, a sound that hung in the air. Not many hours before he'd been in the somewhat ensnaring lap of luxury, Hero of the Terran Weal, seemingly Earthbound for life. In retrospect, that fate had certain points to recommend it.
The muscle began to spread out to either side, to outflank them. Alacrity yanked out the Captain's Sidearm. It was a big, matte-black weapon with a basket hand-shield to protect the firer from blast and backlash.
"Ah! Now just go back and sit where you were, or we start hosing!"
Floyt brought the revolver up into the clear. The muscle looked at one another. Floyt had seen Alacrity kill their kind in another boxtown, not so long before. Then Floyt hadn't been obliged to fire; now it looked different. An altogether inappropriate time, but he found himself wrestling with his doubts.
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...y%20-%20Fall%20of%20the%20White%20Ship%20Avatar.htm (10 of 242)23-2-2006 17:03:12
[Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR
The eyeing and silent debate among the muscle ended. They started a retreat to the main corridor that led up into the boxtown proper, seeming to surrender the field.
"Uh-uh!" Alacrity hollered, waving the energy pistol's muzzle, which was wide enough to fire walnuts.
" You stay here. Get back where you were, or you'll all four of you get a real hot bath!"
They didn't like it, but they obeyed, eyes on his.
"Sit all the way down, pants on the pavement. And sit on your hands while you're at it!" Alacrity snarled, and they did. Guns held at waist level, Alacrity and Floyt backed into the corridor.
Floyt glanced back over his shoulder every few paces—or, more
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