“Just get moving,” Juahir said. “Hide your comm—it’ll tag you as top-class, and you don’t want that. And be careful.”
“I will.” Keying off, Arihnda tucked her comm back into her pocket. She took a final look around, then headed down the walkway, trying to match the not-hurrying pace of the others.
It wasn’t too bad, actually. The people were rough-edged and a little on the skittish side, and she had no doubt they were both willing and able to engage in rough stuff if the mood struck them. But back in Bash Four she’d learned tricks of expression and body language that made people think twice before engaging with her.
Luckily, the pattern here seemed to be the same as it had back there. The handful of people who got close enough to get a good look at her passed by without comment and without slowing.
She’d made it four blocks, and could finally see the turbolift indicator sign, when it all fell apart.
They came without warning: six of them, gangly youths hopped on spice or something worse, boiling out of a pair of dark doorways between two broken lights. Two of them carried long chains; the other four had short blades held casually in their hands. “Hey, sweets,” one of the chain carriers called. “Lookin’ for some fun?”
Arihnda threw a quick look over her shoulder. Two more thugs had emerged from concealment behind her.
With a sinking feeling she realized she was trapped. To her left were the windows and doorways of small businesses already shut for the night. To her right was a two-meter-high railing between the walkway and a sheer drop of at least twenty levels before she even hit anything solid.
“Not interested, thanks,” she called back, trying to keep her voice steady. She’d tussled with friends when she was growing up, and had had to deal with the occasional drunk or spicehead back on Lothal. But she’d never faced anything like this.
She could call the police. But they were spread all over the district, and the thugs were right here. Trouble would reach her long before any help could. She could turn and run and hope she could somehow get past the two men behind her. But there was nothing back there but unfamiliar walkways and a broken turbolift.
“Aw, don’t be like that,” the thug said, mock-sweetly. “You want a drink? Sure you do. So do we. You can buy us all one. You got money, right?”
Arihnda felt her stomach tighten into a knot. What the hell was she going to do?
Behind the six thugs, a man and woman had come into view, striding toward the confrontation through the shadows of another pair of broken streetlamps. Arihnda watched them, feeling a surge of hope. This was her chance. If the couple got too close before they realized what was happening, she might be able to point the thugs in that direction and get away while they were occupied with more interesting prey.
Too late. The man came to a stop ten meters behind the thugs as he apparently spotted the trouble. If he and the woman turned and ran right now, they’d probably make it back to the turbolift before the rowdies could catch them.
Except that the woman hadn’t stopped when her companion did. She was still walking toward the thugs as if she didn’t even see them. Arihnda braced herself…
The thug’s spokesman must have heard the approaching footsteps. He started to turn as the woman reached him—
Without even pausing, the woman snapped her leg up, jabbing the edge of her foot into the back of his knee.
The leg collapsed beneath him. He got one hand on the pavement, howling in rage and pain as he flailed for balance. His cursing abruptly cut off as the woman slammed the back of her fist into the side of his neck. He collapsed to the walkway and lay still.
For a single second the other thugs froze, gaping in bewilderment. The woman didn’t give them time to recover from their shock. Even as her first target fell, she snatched the chain from his nerveless fingers and threw it at the heads of the three youths on her right.
Two of them managed to dodge. The third caught the chain squarely across his throat and dropped with a tortured gurgle as the chain rattled onto the pavement beside him.
The woman spun to face the two standing on her left. But the gang had had enough. The four still on their feet took off at top speed, sprinting past Arihnda on either side without even a glance. Arihnda spun around as they passed, saw that the two who’d been behind her were already tearing into the garish lights of the night.
“You all right?”
Arihnda turned back, feeling her jaw drop. “Juahir?”
“Yeah. Hi. You okay?” Juahir gripped Arihnda’s shoulder, looking her up and down. “Did they get to you?”
“No,” Arihnda managed. The man Juahir had been walking with had finally come unglued from the walkway and was walking toward them. “I was…you surprised me.”
“I said we were coming,” Juahir reminded her, waving her companion forward. “Arihnda Pryce, meet Ottlis Dos. Ottlis is a bodyguard who’s been taking some extra hand-to-hand classes at the dojo. We’d just finished our session and were heading home when I got your call. He offered to come along in case I needed him.”
“I guess you didn’t,” Arihnda said, eyeing the man closely. He didn’t look much like a bodyguard.
“Nope,” Juahir said. “And before you ask, he let me take them on by myself because I told him to. He’s a government employee. If he beats someone down, there’s a mass of datawork he has to fill out.”
“Assuming the victims file a complaint,” Arihnda murmured.
“Well, there’s that,” Juahir conceded. “Regardless, as a private citizen all I have to do is claim self-defense or defense of others and I walk.”
“Nice when the law works on the side of the people.”
“You mean, for a change?” Ottlis asked. His voice was smooth and resonant, pleasant and almost cheerful. Again, not the kind of voice Arihnda would expect from a man who beat people bloody for a living.
“That’s not what I said,” Arihnda protested.
“It’s okay—Ottlis has no illusions as to how Imperial law is stacked,” Juahir said. “He works for—well, actually, he’s not supposed to talk about his job or employer. Sorry.”
“Not a problem,” Arihnda said, taking a second look. That kind of mandated silence usually implied someone very high up the political ladder lurking behind the curtain. This Ottlis character might be worth cultivating. “We should get moving now, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” Juahir said. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now,” Arihnda said. She took a step.
And found herself fighting unexpectedly for balance as one leg tried to collapse beneath her.
“Whoa,” Juahir said, catching her arm. “Let me help.”
“Thanks,” Arihnda said, her face heating with embarrassment. “I’m not scared, you know. Just…shaking.”
“Don’t worry, it happens to everyone.” Juahir said, peering closely at her. “Adrenaline and delayed shock. You ever think about taking some self-defense training?”
“I’ve thought about it a lot,” Arihnda assured her as they started walking toward the turbolift. “Mostly in the past three minutes. How much does your dojo charge?”
“Unfortunately, we’re totally booked at the moment,” Juahir said, wrinkling her nose in thought. “We might be able to refer you to—” She broke off and looked at Ottlis, who’d taken up position on Arihnda’s other side. “What about you? Would you be willing to give Arihnda an hour’s training before or after your classes? We could work out a discount.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Arihnda protested. “Juahir, stop it—you’re embarrassing him.”
“Not at all,” Ottlis said, inclining his head to her. “I’d be delighted to give you some instruction. It’s been said that a man never truly understands a subject until he teaches it.”
“But do you even have the time?” Arihnda pressed. “Juahir said you were someone’s bodyguard.”