Roofrats 23

Nico only heard the "greeting" well enough to make it out, and decided to provisionally think of it as a way to ask "how are you".

Weft went indoors, scrubbed up, stared at some food for a while, forced himself to eat a little and then hung around with Afflictive and Affability, mostly just watching them curled up together talking.

By evensong he was over the minor attack of self-loathing and back to his cruel, sarcastic baseline. He told the novice diplomat Tortile about his contract that morning, interspersed with plenty of pointed remarks about the decor.

The problem had been that the guard had been doubled in the last ten minutes and Weft hadn't known. Of course the target lay very very dead, but he had needed to incapacitate more people than predicted on the way. Tortile helpfully suggested that he meditate on his laxity, which Weft had already been told in his debrief.

Nico had a healthier appetite for her lunch.

Afterwards she went for another round of "bother passers-by who look like they have a bit time to spare with random questions". She thanked enthusiastically everyone who took the time to answer, even if the answers were as unhelpful as "'S rough out there. They don't have boutiques, yeah" or "Summer raises eyes, turning lovely blushing cheek to follow the geese" - thanks for the latter garnished with a decent amount of bafflement. She even managed to not laugh loudly when someone told her, "Look, if your boyfriend got shipped off then following him won't help... you want to appeal to the Appeals Court." After the initial surprise, it did fit well with the attitude regarding the "inferior outside".
Probably the best source of information was a man who told her, "My wife's in exports. She says it gets lawless. Firearms aren't banned like here." He was willing to listen to (and watch) Nico long enough for her to make sure he was talking about guns, and also brought her vague idea to find out about trade routes to the forefront.

Since it was still early in the afternoon, she headed in the general direction of the channel and docks, also taking a break from asking any questions apart from about directions.

The canal docks, at the foot of Offwhite's mountain, were busy. Aside from a little loading and unloading, there were a lot of stalls, trays and in some cases blankets full of food and tacky knickknacks for sale. A few truanting children played among the crates.

A shouting woman in the middle of a fishing jetty had drawn quite a crowd and was now proceeding to tell them how little she thought of them. She was spitting a little.

"Please pretty lady, you want someone to cuddle who gonna treat you like queen?" someone asked Nico in an atrocious accent of interworld. He was a nervous and extremely thin young Instarrian man, large-eyed and whipcord-veined.

After a look which had less to do with appraisal than he might think, and more with guessing what the hell was going on, Nico answered, "No, thanks," with a friendly smile, only afterwards switching to interworld. "But maybe you can help me. I am looking for someone who would tell me about the colonies, and the rest of this world outside the city." She pulled a low-denomination note out of an outside pocket. It should be enough to buy one or two decent meals for the poor bugger.

The kid - well, he looked perhaps seventeen - fixed his eyes on the note as soon as it appeared and kept them there in case it evaporated.

"I outside city. You new in city? I show you around city. I prettiest boy in city, look good beside you." He was clearly trying his best but just as clearly had no clue what she was talking about.

Oh, well, so I'll be the one who gets practise. She switched to Instarrian.

"'Outside' means 'outside'. Not in. I saw parts of city, and it is nice, but I want to see a bit of rest of world."

"Oh. Normally people move in the opposite direction. There's not much money outside."

Though now he was finally speaking Instarrian, the young man's speech was odd for Offwhite - which, from what Nico had seen, didn't usually have this much variance in accent.

After making sure ("Into, not out, yes?") Nico shrugged. Money was not her main interest. "I am inquisitive." She was also grinning.

"Inquisitive about boys too?" he asked, getting hopeful again about that banknote.

"Not like I think you mean." She handed him the money, anyway, and gave it another try. "So, you know someone chatting who knows about rest of world?"

The money was tucked immediately inside his shirt with a brief and disbelieving smile.

"I came from one of the colonies. To work," the young man said.

A short surprised look - this work? - and a slightly longer thoughtful one, and she suggested, "I buy you a meal anad we chat?"

He was a little wary, but, well, she was the one with the money.

"Yes, please. What's your name?"

"Nico. And yours?" She was back to her usual cheerful smile.

"Yavu Nefeqis," the hooker said, pronouncing it yah-voo neh-feh-kiss evenly stressed, "or whatever you prefer. Place over there does good hot food." Yavu pointed out a dockside restaurant among many.

Nico figured that a better sign than some recommendation for a more backalley hole in the wall, and agreed.

It was a fairly large room with several sturdy tables, at which dock workers and general members of the public were eating. There was time to get a glimpse of this before the owner's husband came over and shoved Yavu back the way he'd come in. "Look, snare, I told you," he began.

"Nonono, buddy, this time I'm good for it. I'm with her, see? My friend. She's paying," Yavu said, easing the cook's hand away and beginning to slide inside.

"A likely story," said the cook, grabbing hold of his shirt collar and looking an apology - I'll seat you as soon as I throw this trash outside - in Nico's direction.

"No, really, Warwaru's honest truth!" The skinny boy squirmed and looked over his shoulder in case anyone was coming to help chuck him out.

"Is he with you?" the cook asked Nico, grabbing Yavu's collar more tightly.

"Yes. Is that a problem?" Nico asked evenly.

"It's a surprise." But he did let go of Yavu, who gave him a bright smile and strolled over to the best seats in the house, picking up a couple of menus from the counter as he did so.

"He tries to come in here a lot, and he never pays," said the cook, before shaking his head and leaving them to get seated.