Suicide, Inc

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Smith was recruited first.

That was in an alley.

The alley was narrow and quirky, thick with misty shadows and rich with foul smells. It angled along behind a nameless saloon and dead-ended against a mildew-streaked brix wall. This particular alley was in Deadzone 22 in the capital city of the largest territory on the planet Barnum, but Jared Smith had encountered similar problems in other alleys all across the Barnum System and elsewhere during the past twelve or thirteen months.

The specific problem in the Deadzone 22 alley consisted of a large broadshouldered catman, an even huskier lizardman and a crackbeaked scarlet birdman, who was both smaller and nastier than his companions. All three had taken exception to Smith while inside the murky saloon, and had suggested stepping out here to settle their differences.

Smith had been drinking mulled skullpop, a powerful mix of alcohol, euphorium and propolis. A long lanky man of thirty-one, he’d found he was incapable of ignoring challenges much beyond the third drink. Even challenges from huge hulking louts near twice his present lean weight.

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