4.I picked up my client and his two Companymen bodyguards at the restricted personnel downchute on my Retro Level. They were all waiting, bundled up in typical Freemen garb, caps or hats pulled down to their eyes, bandannas pulled up and shielding their lower faces, and each wearing a similar ankle-length dark duster with a chestful of colorful charms and amulets. They looked pretty authentic, all right. But all three moved just a tad clumsily, like they weren’t completely comfortable in their heavy, bulky disguises. I hoped they’d quickly adjust and shed their awkwardness before we got too far into the Ruins—prying eyes would certainly notice.
“You’re my guide, Spark?” the pilot said in a raspy, perhaps only rarely used voice.
“Yes,” I said, offering my hand. I wasn’t sure if he would a
