There was a light tug on his sleeve. He turned his head. It was Nixie.

“I say have go work now, so can catch Vic,” she said. “We go someplace now, yes?” At least she had put a wrap over her top.

Hunt sighed. “Nixie, don’t you ever give up? No thanks. Not today.”

“Is okay. I know good place.” She pulled insistently.

Hunt shook his head. “No. No fuck, understand? Nice girl, but fuck off.”

“You not understand. We just talk. Go place where is speak machine, Jevlen talk Terran.”

“Oh.” Hunt drew back and looked at her. She was serious for once, unsmiling. He nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

She slipped her arm through his as they began walking. “This way. I show. Place I use lots time.”

They entered a corridor of doors and display windows, many of them shuttered, leading off the street. From the other end of it, they crossed a trash-strewn plaza to another passage flanked by a couple of bars, an amusement gallery of some kind, and assorted other doorways. Two more corners brought them to a wider concourse, on one side of which was an entrance into what looked like the lobby of a cheap hotel. There was a desk on one side, and doors off to left and right of the dingy hall beyond, where two or three people were sitting on faded chairs among oddments of furniture. Several elevator doors lined the wall at the rear. Somehow the reception machine even managed to convey an air of sneering disdain as the john drew up at the desk with his hooker.

“Look wrong if I pay,” Nixie murmured. Hunt gave her the card that he had been issued at PAC to cover incidental expenses. She flipped open a cover on the machine and passed the card across a read head. Nothing happened. Nixie muttered something that sounded like an oath and pressed a button. After waiting perhaps half a minute, she called out a stream of Jevlenese in an abusive voice and jabbed at the button repeatedly. A clerk in need of a shave and a clean shirt emerged, grumbling, from a door near the desk. Nixie gave him the card, and an irascible exchange continued between them while the card was read into a different device, a transaction record copied out, and the card returned. Finally the clerk extracted a small disk- presumably a coded room key-from the innards of the nonfunctioning reception machine, said something to Nixie that sounded sarcastic and which Hunt had a feeling referred to him, and stumped back through the door he had come out of.

They took one of the elevators up several floors and found the room around a corner farther along a corridor. Nixie touched the disk against a plate, and they entered. The room was indifferent, in keeping with the rest of the place. There was a fake window with a graphics simulation of an unusual landscape scene, part of it nonfunctioning and blacked out. Nixie crossed over to the COM panel above the fitted unit opposite the queen-size bed, activated it, and gave an instruction in Jevlenese to switch on the translator.

“Like a drink?” she asked Hunt. “The first one comes with the room, anyhow.”

“Why not?”

“Anything in particular?”

“I’ll leave it to you.”

“House, a couple of colantas with tangy ice, unfizzed,” Nixie said. Rattles and grinding sounds came from the dispenser unit by the chef as she walked over to it. “Don’t get mad at Murray for being cautious,” she said over her shoulder. “The people that Baumer is mixed up with don’t like noses being poked into their business. And they can be nasty.”

“So you do know him,” Hunt said.

“You get to know what’s going on. And there aren’t that many Terrans in Shiban. People talk.”

“So who are these people he’s mixed up with?” Hunt asked, sitting down in the chair by the window image and producing his cigarettes.

“From what Murray says, you have them on Earth: people who supply things that are wanted, but which are illegal. He was doing the same kind of thing with chemical drugs.”

“You mean a black market?”

“Is that what you call it? Okay.”

“I thought things like that didn’t really happen seriously here,” Hunt said. “There isn’t too much that’s illegal.”

“But the changes in recent times have had effects.” Nixie turned, holding two glasses. She came over to hand Hunt one of them, and picked up his cigarette pack curiously from the sill of the fake window. “Can I try one of these?”

“Go ahead.”

Nixie selected one and leaned forward to let Hunt light it for her. “This is what you call tobacco, right?”

“Yes.”

She went over to the bed and sat down, swinging her legs up and leaning back against the headboard. “Let’s see if I understand this thing that Murray calls supply and demand. When you make something illegal, the price goes up, isn’t that it? Murray said the U.S. Government made him a lot of money-I never understood why, since they were trying to take it away from him… But anyhow, stopping people from doing what they want makes other people rich. Is that how it works?”

“It’s not supposed to, but…” Hunt shrugged. “Well, yes, I suppose that’s the way it turns out more often than not.”

Nixie gestured with the cigarette. “This is smooth… got a nice kick. Hits your throat.”

“Not all kinds. Some brands will take the lining off.”

“Is tobacco illegal on Earth?”

Hunt shook his head. “It makes the right people rich.”

Nixie thought about it. “I guess they have to be the ones who make the rules, then, eh?”

“That’s about it.”

Nixie nodded. “Anyhow, as I was saying… on Jevlen the Ganymeans have created a black market.”

Hunt looked down at his drink. It was amber, with pyramids of light green ice, and tasted like spicy Drambuie with a lemony base. Not bad. He thought he knew what she was getting at, but decided to play dumb. She was trying to help. Why spoil it? “I’m not sure I follow,” he said, looking back at her and drawing on his cigarette.

“Ask yourself, what’s been shut down for the last six months that everybody took for granted all their lives, and a lot of people don’t know how to get along without?”

Hunt frowned. “You mean JEVEX?”

“What else?”

Hunt appeared to consider the proposition. “That sounds strange,” he answered. “I mean, there might be a demand all right, but where’s the supply? You just said, it’s shut down.”

Nixie shook her head and sipped from her glass without taking her eyes off him. “The main system that ran the planet and what-have-you might be down, but the whole thing isn’t dead. There are still parts of it ticking over.”

“Well, yes, that’s right-there’s a core system still running for maintenance and…” He let his voice trail off, as if he had just seen the implication for the first time. “What are you saying? That there’s some way of getting people access to that capacity?”

“Yes, exactly. For the junkies, but at a price.”

It still didn’t explain everything, though. “Okay.” Hunt leaned back, still frowning. “But what product is it that they’re selling, exactly? I mean, you’re making it sound like a dependency situation. What is it that these junkies are dependent for? It can’t be simply to have the planet run for them again. What would there be for an individual that was worth paying for?”

Nixie smiled and watched the smoke from her cigarette. “You still don’t understand what JEVEX does, do you, Vic?”

That was something that Hunt had not been prepared for. He spread his hands and shook his head. “It’s an integrated processing and communications network. It runs the planet.”

“That’s like saying that colanta wets your throat and flows down. I’m not talking about how JEVEX functions, but what it does.” She read the baffled look on Hunt’s face. “It creates fantasies-anything that anyone wants can come true. Dreams that are real, which you can make do whatever you like just by wanting them to. Do you wonder why the Jevlenese can’t deal with reality? They’ve never needed reality.” She threw back her head and laughed. “The girls love the Ganymeans. Our business has never been better since they switched JEVEX off. They wiped out the competition.”