The Light Years - The First Two Chapters

The boy dashed away, the bowl tight against his narrow chest. Adem cursed. The money would likely end up in the hands of whatever Fagin gave the child his daily meal and a corner to sleep in. Adem pulled up his hood and resumed his walk.

The russet afternoon light turned the roadway’s cracked pavement the color of dried blood. The area had devolved since Adem’s last visit, the people becoming poorer, more desperate. Rows of refugee shanties and hovels pressed up against the elevator depot. In a taxi he might not have noticed. He could have avoided it completely by darkening the taxi’s windows and watching a news or entertainment vid. But when he was on-planet, Adem walked where he could, curious to see what had changed. Once, his simple clothing helped him blend in with the locals but now his sturdy utilisuit made him a target.

A woman beckoned him from the next corner. She was standing in front of a crumbling building that had been a thriving noodle shop half a standard century before. She ran her hands down her short dress and raised its hem to reveal her scrawny thighs. “You look lonely, spaceman!”

“Bad luck,” Adem said. “I’m getting a wife today.” Talking to another child might have broken his heart, but he had thicker skin where adults were concerned.

“I’ll give you my bachelor discount.” She stepped closer. The smell of her sweat allied with the chemical tang of whatever drug she favored and the cheap ginja on her breath. Her tight dress was grimy, hugging bone more than curve.

Her hair was dry and limp.

“Last time I was here this was a nice place,” Adem said.

The woman shifted position, her malnutrition not quite eliciting the desired response. “How long ago was that?”

“Two and a half years relative. About fifty years your time.”

She rubbed her lower lip with the stump of her missing left thumb. “I have a friend across the street. Maybe you’d like him better. Maybe you want both of us.”