Badger lifted his face to the morning sunshine as he walked the crowded, narrow street. He took a deep breath, and his nose filled with a rich and heady mix: the smells of dust, cooking, incense, body odor, drive exhaust, a dozen others. The clamor of the vendors and customers sounded over the deep rumble of ships coming and going at the landing area. My place. My people, he thought contentedly. The nods and small bows of many whose paths he crossed reinforced his feeling that all was right with the world.

Pissing off Warrick Harrow always left Badger in a good mood.

"'A petty thief with delusions of standing,' am I?" He almost laughed out loud. A fine insult, coming from a man who just bought himself a lordship. With money he got from smuggling banned entertainment vids, no less.

Mokey’s mood was somewhat less cheerful. “Swear, I don’t know why you deal with that touchy peacock. If he didn’t want you to tell him what you thought of his stupid sash, he shouldn’t of brought it to the meet.”

“Prolly sleeps in it, mate,” Badger said with undiminished humor. “He’s just a broken-tailed alleycat who claims he’s a lion on his mother’s side. He’s got his pedigree, a down-at-the-heels estate, two good suits, and a herd of cows. He still gets invites to all the fancy parties because his family’s gentry for six generations, but none of the old money wants to be seen talking to him. He uses the get-togethers to meet new-rich social climbers. They’re the only sort he can impress. Sometimes he gets a little business out of it.” He smiled wider. “Wasn’t really laughing cause he was wearing one, even at the Docks. It’s just the bloody thing is red as a landing beacon and twice as wide as anybody else’s, like he wants it visible from orbit. Pathetic.”

“So, what about the deal?” Howard said from behind him. “That off, I suppose?”

“Don’t know. Haven’t decided.” Don’t know anybody I dislike enough to give the job of shipping His Lordship’s cargo, he thought. “Harrow still wants the deal, that’s sure. He knows he’ll never pull