Twenty minutes later and the city of Gaillimh is coming into view. You could just about make out the lights from some of its most iconic skyscrapers in the distance. It is a compact and dense city; the economic powerhouse of the habitat containing its sole spaceport and hence controls inter-colony trade. Still, it relies heavily on tourism from its vast agrarian hinterlands to survive.
Almost certainly that is why it is one of the very few places where alcohol and ladies of the night can be purchased. Not legally of course, a blind eye is turned.
Tabitha shuffles in her seat.
“So where exactly are we going?” Tabitha asked.
“We are going to a tavern called Roisin Dearg. In English I’d guess that would be Red Roisin. Not that you’ll hear any English there. It the best place to go if you need something underhand. One of the people who regularly frequents works in the space port and I’m hoping he can help you.”
“And how do you know this?”
“Probably best not to say.”
Fuck, that was close. I’d really rather not tell her that’s where I go for some female companionship.
The outskirts of the city is drawing nearer now. Huts and farmsteads are giving way to mansions with large estates. He hasn’t mentioned it to Tabitha, but it would be wise to reach the inner core of the city before the habitat system changes to daylight. And that was happening shortly. So many more to monitor their movements then.
Mark's Writing Corner 