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eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: What is home? A place? A family? A community? Andrea must find out where she fits within Kalikuata, the giant orbiting station in which she pulls rich customers around in a pedicab, or put her life in jeopardy.

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Men Writing SF as Women, 2003
Fictionwise Release Date: April 2005

8 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [167 KB], eReader (PDB) [24 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [10 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [10 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [72 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [81 KB], hiebook (KML) [82 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [39 KB], iSilo (PDB) [8 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [11 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [38 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [18 KB]
Words: 3021
Reading time: 8-12 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

I left my birthworld, Loki, for another cylindrical Orbital I'd once seen advertised as a vacation paradise. Instead of finding better work, I found a world stressed by overcrowding. I could see millions of people teeming over the insides of Kalikuata just by leaning my head back and looking up the arch of green land a mile overhead.

Kalikuata's air choked me, thick with smoke and the hydrogen belches of small vehicles. Overloaded city filters, great blocks of carbon the size of the overcrowded apartment complexes around them, added to the noise all around me. Men with rickshaws shouted and pushed themselves closer to one of the many thirty-foot high airlocks dotting Kalikuata's inner equator. I shoved left, pushing the arms of my rickshaw into the ribs of the man in front of me.

He swore and shoved back. My rickshaw's right pole slammed against my chest, bruising my bound breasts. It hurt more than he realized--I had disguised myself as a man in order to pull the rickshaw.

I let him move forward and caught breath.

Immigration officials with full beards and khaki uniforms stood on catwalks over my head. One of the utility doors spun itself open. The official who stepped out examined the lacelike chakras and lotus symbols on the sides of the airlock. He looked sideways at me, sides of his eyes crinkling.

"I have a passenger looking to go to the Hilton," he said. "A hundred ruppees is my price."