Back Room, Smell Of Stale Booze

Gino grabbed me by the arm, gently for him. I stopped; it was either that or leave my arm behind, and I’ve always been attached to that arm. He looked me over carefully.

“You ain’t bringing in trouble, are you?”

I had to laugh. I was walking around the Silver Zone in a stolen uniform and had an illegal assault blaster in the bag at my side. “All the trouble I know of is out here, and it can wait until I get back,” I said. I certainly hoped it was true, and I guess that was enough for Gino, who grunted again and let me pass. His eyes were already back on the traffic.

Silver Zone, Sun Shining

I walked out, adjusting my uniform cap, and went in search of someone that valued money over patriotism. You’d be surprised how easy that is, even in the Silver Zone — especially if you listen to the propaganda.

We’re always “marching to victory” and “winning the war”, which might even be true. But after a while you start to wonder just how long the war is going to take to win, or for that matter if we’re even fighting the same one, all these years later.

Puddle In A Gutter, Lots Of Pain,

She frowned, then nodded. “That’s plausible. It’s the sort of thing you’d do. And of course I believe every word you ever tell me.” There was a flicker of a smile, and then back to the scowl. “But that won’t help you.”

As they dragged me away, I realized once again: Sometimes, being too clever just gets you in more trouble.

In The Shadows, Steady Drizzle

It was time to set some things up, and maybe grab a quick bite while I was at it. Fortunately, I knew a place to do both. And they never closed.

In every city there’s a place like this, where the down-and-out congregate. Even the Robots had their own version, a particularly brutal type of scrapyard where cannibalism was a way of life. It doesn’t matter how tight the regulations; people still need a place to be once society has finished squeezing the life out of them. Here in Founder’s Landing, it’s The Forum. Diogenes would feel right at home.

Old House, Dust, Must, Distant Thunder

“I see; that’s fair enough. Very well; another fifty thousand added to the initial deposit, available immediately.”

Quick decision; no consulting anyone. That meant he was my principal; either that or he was a person so highly trusted it made no difference. More importantly, he wasn’t government. No bureaucrat ever forks over money without whining.

We fenced a bit more for the look of the thing, then shook hands. I took the case and left the way I’d come.

Decaying Mansion, Dying Firelight

There was a light in a ground-floor study, the flicker of a fireplace. Solid construction; the floors didn’t squeak and the door opened silently. My employer didn’t look up from the papers he was studying at an old-fashioned desk; I decided not to bother him. I went over and sat in a comfortable-looking chair, trying to look like I’d been there all along. I gently cleared my throat.

The effect was all I could have hoped for. His eyes bugged as he stared at me. “H-how–?!” he gasped.

In my line of work, it’s all about making a good first impression.