Shadowplay

CELL 21

Flitters whine over a dark huddle of shacks, search lights spear down into the narrow, crooked streets. In the flitters, dark intent faces are lit by the amber glows of the of the control panels, kanaweh all, the Nistam's secret security police.

Light from one flitter flowed over a ragheap In a boarded-up doorway, came sweeping back; the ragman scuttled off, running as fast as he could in a lurching lopsided panic.

The kana handling the light Impaled the tcuttler with it, thumbed a jak stud, triggering a spray of explosive pellets from the gun tied into the light.

"That's another one for us, he said. "Scratch it down, Kaweeshk. Two more and ltoshin buys the beers this week. Come on, Weeshk, let's lob a gas grenade in house that pikshikoshk come out of, see if we can flush the rest of 'em."

"Put a cork in it, Wakso. You know what the Gospah said. Street is fair game, houses we leave alone.

"Damn jerkoff, sticking his twitchy nose in places it don't belong. Let him play with his Na-priests and leave us do our job. I'd like to…"

"Shut up, fool. And pay attention to what you doing, I thought I saw something move down there."