A Call to Arms by Robert Sheckley Read Free Book Online Page B

short, scaly bald species with long antennae on their foreheads? Symbiotes? Or sheer chance? There were mysteries here that would take a lot of time to clear up.
    She went by several little food markets, the goods spread out on the sidewalk. Did people actually eat that stuff? A little farther on, she passed a fast-food stall selling a meat-filled bun that reminded her of klashpies, a delicacy of her native region--back when she’d had a native region. She was tempted to sample one, but decided to check it out later. There was no telling what they might put into those buns. And money was a problem, though, she hoped, not for long.
    The sector was crowded, especially where several corridors intersected, forming open spaces where people could hang out and talk. In one of the open areas she saw two dancers, of a species she couldn’t immediately identify, dancing to the sounds of a drum and fife played by two vaguely Human-looking people. She stopped for a moment to watch, and felt someone come up behind her.
    “Hello, little lady,” a voice said. She turned. It was a Dipsha, a species she’d rarely encountered. This one was leering at her. He was wearing a ridiculous purple velvet cap that she supposed was to make him attractive.
    “What do you want?” Dureena asked doubtfully.
    “Fun,” the Dipsha said. “Frolicsome fun. You and me together. In a place I know. I pay good.”
    “Get lost,” Dureena said.
    The Dipsha looked like he wanted to take offense at the remark, but, noting Dureena’s aggressive readiness, he controlled himself and moved away.
    He was the first of the people on the make, but not the last. Several other men, or at least males of whatever species they were from, indicated that they’d be happy to make her acquaintance. Some of them seemed ready to force their attentions on her, but something about her look--the taut, well-conditioned look of a person accustomed to fighting--put them off, and they spared her their importunities. Dureena had a look that said, I am not to be taken lightly.
    She continued walking, her gaze roving the surfaces of her new home, looking for a familiar sign. But when one came, she almost missed it.
    She saw just the barest indication of a swirl of paint, half-hidden behind a decaying poster. Pushing it aside, Dureena saw an odd-shaped glyph painted on the wall in red and violet. It was circular, its circumference made up of short, curving lines that did not join. There was a twist on one side of the glyph. It looked like an afterthought, but Dureena knew it indicated a direction. She went the way it pointed, down another corridor, and then she climbed up a series of stanchions set into the wall.
     

Chapter 12
     
    Down Below was all eyes. Someone was watching Dureena’s moves. This time it wasn’t Vlast; for the moment, he had been left behind, baffled. The person watching her was named Rolf.
    Rolf was a large, imposing man, wearing ragged clothes that might once upon a time have been rather fine. He was bald-headed, imperious in his movements, yet with a feline quality about him that let him dissolve into a crowd. He had a gift for being unobtrusive, almost invisible.
    If Dureena had noticed him, which she did not, she would have envied his ability to appear not to be there. If there was one thing she was having trouble with on Babylon 5, it was blending in with the crowd. She was highly skilled at what she did, but her distinctly alien features and her clothing, which was splendid and barbaric, called far too much attention to her.
    Rolf was observing all this, and he noted that the lady’s feisty quality was not a good trait in this place. Many fierce people had come to Down Below, and sooner or later they had all learned that there was always someone fiercer, stronger, more feral. It was a valuable lesson, if one could learn it and remain alive.
    Dureena turned a comer and found another marker on a wall, the same design as before, only this time the pointer