If S.T. had known what Badou was thinking, he'd have agreed. The thugs Basco had hired had been long on brawn, short on brains. At least the ones that had done the actual chasing -- some of them fatally (for them) so. Physics, unlike city government, didn't make exceptions for organized crime.

"Yeah, I figured." Group sex for what? He'd missed that particular lurid episode. If they ever got out of here, none of them would ever need to work again -- the talk-show circuit and ghostwritten autobiographies of sex, aliens, and alien sex would leave them set for life. "And it might be hard to find, but you don't have to be a brilliant biochemist to make the stuff. Though it doesn't hurt." He grinned. Modesty was something he'd never been accused of.