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Jet-Dancer [MultiFormat]
eBook by James C. Glass
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eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: Her dream was to be a dancer--a real dancer, trained on Earth. She knew that the planet's heavier gravity would exact a terrible price, but she would gladly pay it...
eBook Publisher: Rosetta Solutions, Inc., Published: 1990
Fictionwise Release Date: December 2001
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [83 KB], eReader (PDB) [44 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [17 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [16 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [83 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [88 KB], hiebook (KML) [74 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [74 KB], iSilo (PDB) [14 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [18 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [59 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [26 KB]
Words: 4900 Reading time: 14-19 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

Lyrae waited in the darkness of the tiny backstage, heart pounding as the din went on and on. Nan had worked the crowd into a frenzy with a herky-jerky routine that was all sex and no art, but the men all came back for it again and again and showered the heavy-breasted veteran with silver and gold. Lyrae envied the older woman's body, but not the crude jet harness in her act or the pawing by the crowd. Only a moment before, she'd heard Nan yell, then the laughter of men at her curses. A piece of meat on display, without dignity or respect, surrounded by sweating, grunting cobalt miners who would spend a week's pay in an evening for watered-down drinks and a few looks at female flesh. Touching cost extra, but nobody touched Lyrae Jellico; nobody ever touched a Jet-Dancer, because if he did, a lifetime of lonely weekends in the barracks on some miserable asteroid was in his future. Jet-Dancer meant class, even if it was on the sleaziest wheel sunward of the belt and the closest she'd probably get to her dream. What would mother say now, Jellico, the company-owned woman with all the ambitions for her little girl, the dried-up woman who'd worked her fingers bloody in the ore separators and died a crummy death from breathing too much rock because her husband was crushed in a mine collapse that shouldn't have happened? Lyrae had buried them side by side, then used what they'd died for to come to the Anaconda-Toshiro wheel because it was as far as she could afford to go from Hanson Beta, and the mines, and the constant smell of rock dust.
Now she was a Jet-Dancer--with dreams of more.
Nate floated up to her and reached through the nozzle web to touch her on the cheek. She smiled, and brushed his fingers with her lips.
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