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humans that she actually interacted with, the two other
Yurrick she had met, and the one time she managed to speak with an
Ordonian or rather the time the Ordonian bellowed at her in those
strange clicking and clacking noises when it thought she had groped
its... what did it call it again? Flarkjip? Jackflap? Or was it
flapjack?
    'You can get
some sleep if you want,' said Sear. 'I'll be watching the road if
you need me.'
    He perched
himself on the edge of the floor where the wall had once been and
faced into the street. He pushed the last piece of his pre-fab meal
into his mouth and dropped the wrapper into the street. She was
still undecided on whether a 'flapjack' was a real thing or not.
She decided she would look it up on the exonet later. She slouched
down on the floor next to the fire with her back against the wall
and tried to relax.
    If he was
going to do something, he would have done it by now.
    'How much
longer will it take to get to Sinn?' she asked.
    He didn't turn
when he spoke. 'A week if we walk. Half a day if we take the
shortcut.'
    'What kind of
shortcuts are there in the middle of a desert?'
    'You'll see in
the morning.'
    '… Not that I'm
complaining but why are you helping me?' Seline asked.
    'Like I said.
I'm going to Sinn anyway.'
    'And that's
it?'
    Seline listened
to the crackling of wood inside the flaming barrel, waited for a
response.
    'It's also hard
to find good, quiet company,' he finally said.
    'Oh. Sorry
about all the questions, then,' said Seline.
    'It's fine.' He
paused again. 'You mentioned back on the platform that you haven't
been in the Insolvent District for at least ten years, you also
don't have a consumer number, and you're travelling alone. I gather
you've been hiding somewhere – off planet would be my guess.'
    'Well... yeah.
I work on Yarfor Station in the Vega System.'
    'It's a rough
place. What do you do there?'
    'I'm a... a
bartender.'
    'A human
bartender? Can't be very common out there.'
    'You have to be
pretty desperate to take any of the remaining service industry
jobs... well, either desperate or female. Unfortunately I'm both.
Even with all the automation... there's always a market for the
types of girls that Mr. Klondike is after.'
    Seline closed
her eyes. It was years ago. She didn't know how many. She was
sitting in Zackry Klondike's office on Yarfor Station. Small. Damp.
The walls vibrated, convulsed to the music coming from the club
room.
    'The implants
stop at the shoulder don't they?' asked Zackry in that quiet,
worming voice. 'You ain't got some robot pussy or something, right?
It just ain't the same, know what I mean? Those robot pussies don't grab the same way. Don't taste right. That's why I
don't bother with those damn androids. People wanna fuck muffs not
mufflers, understand?'
    He paused,
smiled down at her. The plastic in his smile stretched as if the
corners of his mouth were being pulled by fish hooks.
    'I only want
the bartender position,' said Seline, jerking her arm back from his
probing fingers.
    'You need the
money, Seline,' he said, still smiling, 'I know you do. The
bartending job don't pay too well and, like I said, there's
definitely a market for your types 'round here – as long as you're
human where it counts.'
    Seline stared
back, biting her tongue. There wasn't enough money to even pay for
a flight off Yarfor Station let alone pay another week's rent.
Belameir had just lost another job. They'd been living off a diet
of prefab wafers and Vicodin for the past two weeks. She could
taste blood. She unclenched her teeth.
    Zackry sat on
the corner of his desk, he reached out, touched her arm. He
caressed it gently, spoke through his smile. 'You got any
attachments for this thing?'
    Seline opened
her eyes. The fire spat embers from the top of the barrel.
    'You work for
Zackry Klondike?' Sear asked.
    She nodded.
'It's pretty much how it sounds.'
    'Zackry's clubs
are pretty much the only businesses left operating in this district
although I never really