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looked to be more rock than ice, he doubted it would be inhabitable for very long. Everyone else here seemed to feel comfortable enough with the risk, at least, but he figured the sooner he could fly out of there the better.

Inside the tunnel, another Morlani sat behind a tall desk with two hulking Oranchians on either side of him and a Pleiadean cyborg standing off to the side armed with a duel-emitter pulse rifle. A holo camera was mounted over them, its wide eye aimed at Eow and Dirken, and two heavy repeater phase mini-cannons mounted on the walls were also aimed at them. The Pleiadean still had the mass of little horns on his head, but his arms and legs had been replaced with military-style titanium-iridium alloy structures capable of tripling his strength and speed.

Dirken expected the Morlani to demand they turn in their weapons. But all it did was say, "State your name and business with Grimmag Ruby-Eye," its voice high-pitched but monotone.

"I just gave her a ride," Dirken responded, pointing at Eow, "and I need a drink."

"I can vouch for him," she added.

The Morlani turned to the Ananak and said without a hint of emotion, "Welcome back, Eow. Grimmag Ruby-Eye is expecting you to give your report."

Eow nodded, and they continued past the checkpoint. Dirken raised an eyebrow. She reports directly to Grimmag? She was no low-level messenger or foot soldier.

The wide corridor had irregular walls and ceiling, and everywhere were drips and rivulets of melting cometary ice, running down to dampen the floor and drain into gratings along the walls.

The noise of the hangar faded away as they walked down the passage. They passed a very wide blast door to the left guarded by three heavily-armed Reptiloc guards and a human who was so muscular that he surely had been pumped up with steroids. He nodded at Dirken in a "greetings fellow human" sort of way, but his face was grim and had a melted look from a horrible burn.

"What's in there?" Dirken asked Eow, rubbing his arms for warmth.

She smirked. "That is the Sanctum. No one goes there unless they are mafia or have business to conduct directly with Grimmag Ruby-Eye."

Walking away from the Sanctum doors, they soon heard the heavy beat of music and lively voices from down the corridor. As they walked closer to the music, they met small groups of people of different races milling about and talking. A Pleiadean prostitute winked at him as he passed, the corners of her mouth turning up in a naughty smile on her short muzzle. "Hi, there," she said, winking, then turned on hoofed feet and lifted her short skirt, flashing her fuzzy white posterior, pink anus, and vaginal lips beneath an upraised, deer-like tail.

He smiled back at her but kept walking. He'd had the pleasure of sleeping with twenty-one different species, including now an Ananak. He'd had Pleiadeans many times. I'd gladly do so again, he thought. The great thing about having sex with aliens was that it was very rare for diseases to jump species, and getting them pregnant was almost unheard of.

The corridor branched, and to the right a small crowd of people spilled out of a club. Neon lights spelled out "Ruby Lounge," with a ruby-colored gemstone for the O in "lounge." Rigellian synth-metal music poured out of the wide, open doorway, along with a thin cloud of blue-gray smoke that smelled of musk.

Thankfully, it was warmer in the lounge. The scene inside brought a smile to Dirken's face. This was his kind of joint. It came with its own set of unwritten rules shared by every other smuggler's den in the galaxy: Assume everyone is armed. Don't ask anyone's business unless you think both of you can profit from it. And most of all, nothing you see or hear should be repeated outside. There were two-bit hustlers on every block in every city in the galaxy, but the community of professional smugglers was surprisingly small. Even though Dirken didn't normally do business with the Eridani mafia, he still recognized many of the characters in the lounge by sight or reputation.

To his right were circular couches, each centered around an enormous hookah. By the look and smell of the smoke he knew they were smoking jocentooc, made from the dried petals of horac flowers from Tau Ceti f. The sensation it gave, when inhaled, relaxed the mind and body and gave a sense of euphoria that lasted for hours without withdrawal — for most species, at least; it was poisonous to Reptilocs, and Oranchians who smoked it went on killing sprees.

A short but beefy human emerged from the couches and approached them, his eyes drooping from the jocentooc. He was clearly from Mars, as he had the dark hair, larger eyes, and orange-tinted skin of a native Martian, the product of generations of Mars colonists adapting to higher radiation, lower light, and lower gravity. "Eow. I see you're not dead yet. Charm your way off the pirate's plank again?"

She smirked and ran her hand along his jaw, finishing with a playful flip to his chin. "If by 'charm' you mean I killed a bunch of them, then yes."

"I'd expect no less." He ran his own hand along the fur of her forearm.

Despite his best rational efforts, seeing such an intimate display with the woman he'd just slept with was too much.

"Who are you?" Dirken asked. It was a breach of smuggler's etiquette.

The man flashed a look of annoyance but didn't answer, turning his eyes back to Eow. "I've missed those eyes," he added.

Eow smiled back at him, then turned to Dirken. "This is Dimitri the Giant."

Dirken sized up the man. Dimitri was at least half a head shorter than him. "Giant?"

"Not in height," Eow said, mischief sparking in her eyes.

"Ha!" Dimitri said to her, grabbing his bulging crotch. "You'd know, wouldn't you?" Eow laughed.

Dirken batted away the thought of comparing penis sizes. What the hell's wrong with me? She's just

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