Primary Inversion (Saga of the Skolian Empire) Paperback Read Free

as
they moved away into the crowds.
    “Looks like we bore them,” Helda said.
    Taas shifted his feet back and forth like a ball player
waiting for his opponent to make a move. “We can’t just let them walk away.”
    “What justification would you give for doing anything else?”
I asked.
    “They’re Traders,” Taas said. “Isn’t that enough?”
    I tilted my head toward the Allied police officers who had
gathered in the area, their blue and silver uniforms easy to spot among the
crowds. “I doubt they would agree.”
    Taas scowled. “If it wasn’t for us, the Traders would have
taken over their Allied Worlds a long time ago. They should be grateful we’re
here.”
    “If it wasn’t for the Traders keeping us occupied,” I said, “we
might have taken over their Allied Worlds a long time ago.”
    Taas’s forehead creased. “Don’t you hate the Traders?” He
hesitated. “Especially after—”
     “Brawling in the street won’t serve any purpose,” I said. “It
also happens to be illegal here.”
    Helda shrugged at Taas. “We have better ways to occupy our
time, hoiya. I would like a drink, myself.”
    I had never quite figured out what hoiya meant in
Helda’s language, but I thought it was something like “sweet young one.” Taas
had yet to realize it was more than a nonsense word she threw into her
sentences. It was going to be interesting to see her try to explain herself
when he realized she was calling him a sweet boy.
    Rex grinned. “Heya, Helda, hoiya, you want to get drunk?”
    “Hoiya yourself,” Helda grumbled. But then she smiled. “Maybe
a few drinks, heh?”
    “I wouldn’t mind a drink,” I said. A strong one, the kind
that obliterated memories.
    Night had been pressing down on the sunset for over an hour,
darkening the reddish-purple streak of sky along the horizon. A day here lasted
sixty-two hours, making the sunset go on and on as if it resisted giving up the
light. The Arcade was even more crowded now, people taking advantage of the
respite from the heat. With thirty hours of sunlight a day, it was usually only
cool enough outside for humans to be comfortable during the evening, night and
dawn hours.
    Overhead the sky was a deep violet. The Delos sun emitted
more purple light than average for human habitable planets and the thin
atmosphere scattered it less. It gave a purple tinge to the sky as if we were
high in the mountains instead of at sea level. Clouds streaked the horizon,
their lower edges rimmed with a brilliant pink that deepened as the sunset
withdrew behind the Arcade roofs.
    We walked through the twilight along a line of bars.
Holosigns lit up the dusk: a shocking pink flower suspended over a door, gilded
insects flying in ellipses, a cluster of blue-green planets orbiting close to a
blue giant star that in reality could never have supported such a solar system.
Hologram screens also sided most of the bars, spawning holos everywhere, so
that poles of light rotated between buildings, swirling with gaudy purple and
red stripes, and arches of light spanned the roofs. Scampering animals sparked
and popped like firecrackers as they ran up and down the sides of buildings, or
morphed into different species.
    Music jangled at us, raucous tunes mixing with seductive
melodies. Sounds jumped out as we approached and receded into the general buzz
after we had passed. Hawkers called out from doorways, using a slew of
languages. The ones I understood were trying to entice customers with promises
of liquor and smoke-sticks, and seeds of the oilweed plant that could set you
to dreaming, or to making love for hours. The smell of cooking meat and spices
filled the air.
    I couldn’t read most of the holosigns. Pulling down a translation
menu in my mind, I overlaid it on an elegant sign that said CONSTANTINIDES.
    Translate, I thought.
    Greek, the node answered. Translation: Constantinides.
    “That helps a lot,” I muttered.
    “Where you want to go?” Helda asked.
    I pointed to