“What are you having, then?”
The
bartender was a tall man, with thick, greasy hanging in his face in a
wave. He was thin, his cheekbones and
bones in the back of his hands were prominent.
His complexion was sallow and his skin was as oily-looking as his
hair. He was chewing on what looked like a genuine wooden toothpick – an expensive habit in these parts.
Seeing
her uncertain frown, he smiled and said, “Let me make it simpler for you – I
know the variety can be overwhelming. Do
you like it to taste like alcohol or not?”
Mary
shook her head. “Not.”
He
nodded. “Now we’re getting
somewhere. All right, sweet, sour,
savory, tart, or bland?”
Mary
considered as she let her eyes travel to the holographic display above the
bar. Sports, sports, sports, dancing,
and someone in formal clothing waving their hands and speaking vehemently –
either politics or religion. As she did,
she felt an all-too familiar pressure in her thoughts. It always felt like an obstruction in her
stream of thoughts, like a partially submerged rock in a river that the water
had to negotiate its way around.
<<Bartender:
You aren’t really here for a drink, are
you?>>
Mary
bit her lip. “Savory? When I think of drinking something savory I
think of broth. Do you have alcoholic soup?” She let her eyes wander to the holograms
again, watching as scored of huge reptilian figures in archaic gear tackled one
another while wrestling over what looked like an egg. She projected back to him, <<Mary: Why, what do you think I’m here for?>>
The
bartender laughed and wiped the hair back from his forehead. He had a ring on his middle finger, a large
silvery band with a rectangular black stone set in it. She caught the briefest whiff of expectation
and excitement from him. He’s expecting me to react to the ring, not
that I have any clue what that is about.
“Well, we can make you some broth if you like, but I bet you’d want
something stronger. Nah, some people
like their drinks to taste like food.
Ever had a beef shake?”
<<Bartender:
I think that you’re here to play the
game. Find some way to make a little
credit off of the gullible or the desperate.>>
“I think that I’ll go with
sweet.”
<<Mary:
I’m not part of your ring club, guy. What do you want?>>
“Of
course. Do you like fruity, sugary, or
exotic? Also, sharp or mellow?” He turned around and walked towards the back
wall, inspecting bottles and nozzles as he waited for her reply.
<<Bartender:
You came alone and took a long time to
come to the bar and were hovering around tables. What are you after?>>
“Um,
exotic and sharp.” Mary prepared her ID for
scanning. The small iridescent card was
in her pocket, and she saw the bartender glance back sharply as she laid it on
the counter.
<<Mary:
There were a couple of people that I’ve
met but haven’t been introduced to yet.
I was hoping that they’d notice and say hi. See the two Diplo officers sitting with the …
whatever that is? The scaly and hairy
person? The older of the two was in my
first briefing. I don’t know anyone on
the station yet, really.>> Mary carefully tried to project an air of
mild frustration.
“Exotic
and sharp it is! Time for some
Tanalurian Tropical Torrent!” He pulled
down on two nozzles and began releasing them into a cup.
<<Bartender:
Nice routine, hon, but I’m not
deficient. You were scoping
them.>>
“Wow,
sounds… exciting.” Mary managed a raised
eyebrow. The bartender stopped combining
the bright yellow and red fluids about three quarters of the way up the glass
and reached for a jar filled with dark liquid and small, oblong objects.
<<Mary:
What business is it of yours if I
was? You’re not a Strainer.>>
“You
have NO idea.” He said aloud as he
opened the jar and reached into it with a pair of tongs, pulling out what
looked like a soft, slick purple egg. He
turned it around in the light, grinned, and dropped it in.
<<Bartender:
Thought so. No, I’m not, and neither are you. It’s my business because you’re in my bar.>>
The egg
started to fizz and break apart in the drink.
Little purple dots floated to the surface. He turned back around and presented it to her
with a flourish, swiping her ID casually with the bar scanner at the same
time. He folded his hands and leaned
forwards expectantly.
Mary
picked the large drink up and sniffed at it.
It had a sharp tang that was evocative of citrus and made saliva flood
her mouth. The little purple dots turned
out to be slick little spheres. She took
an experimental sip, grimacing at the slimy texture of the orbs but pleasantly
surprised at their slight spicyness. She
carefully chewed one between her premolars, and it fell apart easily under
pressure. She swallowed the rest of her
mouthful and looked up.
“That
was … good. A lot of flavor, and it
doesn’t taste even remotely alcoholic.”
She licked her lips.
<<Mary:
So are you going to report me?>>
The
bartender nodded and waggled his eyebrows.
“Be careful with that. Anything
else I can get you?”
<<Bartender:
That depends. Are you going to be honest with me?>>
Mary
sighed, thanked the bartender, and turned to walk towards an unoccupied
table. She hoisted herself up to perch
on the seat and pretended to watch something mindless as she carefully sipped
the Tanalurian Tropical Torrent.
<<Mary:
I don’t know what I was looking for,
guy. I just wanted to see what they were
up to. I can do this; it doesn’t mean
that I do much with it.>>
Two Vislin
were involved in what appeared to be a martials arts competition. The two sinuous figures stood in place,
weaving back and forth, and occasionally lunging forward to tap the other in
the chest or belly or neck. One of them
stumbled as they leaned back to avoid a strike and she could see the crowd
behind them in the upper portion of the projection go wild.
<<Bartender:
Official training or did you sign up for
a course? Or did you just figure it out
on your own?>>
Mary
twirled the drink with her finger and pulled out one of the slimy purple
blobs. What is this stuff? I’d honestly
rather not know.
<<Mary:
I knew that I had talent. I’ve read a few things, basic practice kind
of stuff. I’ve never told anyone about
it.>>
A rowdy
group of young Sec personnel jostled past the table. One of the guys smiled at her as he
passed. She smiled back, trying to look
distracted and unavailable.
<<Bartender:
Sounds like you don’t want to attract
attention. That’s smart. Nosey Awakeners and SCAPE everywhere. You’re in luck on this station – the fungi
are mostly busy and there aren’t a lot of Watchers.>>
The
human Sec officer who had smiled at her began to make his way back over to her
table. She mumbled. “Maurice, can you run some interference?”
“Let me
out and I’ll see what I can do.” The
smooth, stentorian tones of her Brin came out of her pocket. She pulled out the projector and put it on
the other available seat. A large man,
bald with a bushy black beard and pitch black eyes appeared. He smiled at her and turned around to the
rest of the room, scanning the crowd.
<<Bartender:
No matter where you go, though, someone
is going to notice.>> The
bartender continued in her head.
<<Bartender: That is, unless…>>
Maurice
spotted the guy who was making his way over and waved to catch his
attention. He raised his eyebrows and
shook his head firmly. The officer’s
face fell, and he shrugged and turned to rejoin his companions. She felt a little bad. He was cute, and she hadn’t been lying when
she said she didn’t really know anyone on the station yet. She made a note to keep an eye out for him
when she was less distracted.
<<Mary:
Unless what?>>
<<Bartender:
Unless you’re really interested in not
being noticed. If that’s the case, then
maybe we can help each other out.>>
“Mary? Are you alright?” Maurice looked concerned.
“Yeah…
just a little distracted.”
“Is
there something that I can do for you?”
“Just …
just make sure no one bothers us. Give
me a few minutes.”
Maurice
nodded, with a look of dawning comprehension, and put his hands atop hers. It was odd, seeing his large, hairy fingers
covering her smaller pale ones but feeling no pressure or warmth. She had never quite gotten used to it.
<<Mary:
I am.
What are you proposing? Does it
have to do with that ring you showed me earlier?>>
<<Bartender:
Maybe.
Tell you what, my quarters are 15-3-57.
Come meet me there after my shift.
We’ll have more time to talk. For
now, enjoy your drink.>>
Mary
sent him a wordless assent and looked up at Maurice. “All right, I’m better. Are you okay going back into my pocket for
now?”
Maurice
pursed his thick lips and sighed. “Do I
have a choice?”
Mary
frowned. “Of course you do!”
Maurice
nodded. “Then if it’s all the same to
you, I think I’d rather hang out here while you socialize. After all, you can always come back over if
you have need of more … interference.”
Mary
smiled. Of course, he’s been lonely and cooped up. “I’m sorry you’ve been away for the last
couple of days. It’s just … the Mauraug
that I’m working with right now…”
Maurice
nodded magnanimously. “I
understand. You don’t want to spook them
or make things uncomfortable. However,
I’d like to have a little social time as well.”
“Of
course!” Mary moved over and carefully
hugged the empty air of his hologram and picked up the remains of her
drink. “Let me know if you want to leave
early. I’m going to go talk to Dimples
over there.”
She
moved through the crowd, carefully feeling the psychic pressures around
her. As far as she could tell, the
bartender wasn’t scanning her. That was
good. The thought of the meeting later twisted
her insides and she needed a distraction badly.
This was going to be a long night.
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