Circe 1

The autocab slid to a stop, gull wing door hissing opening. Fine oily rain drifted in over the single passenger, a slim, striking blonde woman. Slipping her cred card into the slot, she waited for the confirming, "Thank you and please call Rent a Robo for your future needs." She liked AI cabs. They were clean, quiet and anonymous. Circe climbed out, rain cloak hugging her sleek figure, translucent material hinting at the figure beneath. The street was quiet, row after row of cut out apartment blocks, dull grey prefab buildings marred by garish graffiti, bullet holes and fire marks. People drifted along in tight clumps huddled against the rain and each other. Circe could pick out the gang runners from the proles easy. They wore their colors proud here, high lords of the trash heap. Sponsored, the local gang boys had enough fire power to seal up this area real tight.

Starting down the street she felt eyes on her, felt the caress of slick greasy thoughts stirring in oversexed teen minds. She was welcome here. Here employers sponsored these upstanding young men. No one would touch her. But given the nature of some of the images seeping from the simian brains she almost wished someone would try. She came to the meeting point, a little bar called Malone's. It was sub street accessed by some cement set back in an alleyway. Its stairway stank of stale garbage and urine, but stink was kept out by air jets kicked on by opening the door.

Inside it was dim and quiet, no music or other distractions from serious drinking. Booths lined the walls and a steel bar ran the length of the other wall, a squat multilimbed robo waiting for orders. There was only one person there, a woman sitting in the far booth dressed in a dark blue suit, cut in the broad shoulder narrow collared look so in among execs this year. She was raven-haired and pretty in an ice maiden sort of way.Her eyes were mirrored orbs.