by M. D. Cooper
Outside, empty chairs stood around weathered tables. Glasses stained with beer foam and smaller shot glasses peppered the tabletops, some laying forlornly on their sides, left uncollected by the servitors.
Does this place even have servitors?
“Whoa,” said Hal as he climbed out of the skiff.
Erin also exited the vessel onto the dusty lot strewn with stones. Dusk had fallen, but the rocky landscape radiated the heat that had collected over the day, only lightly tempered by a cool breeze blowing down the mountain. Fazir’s skiff was landing on the opposite side of the lot.
“What do you think?” he called a moment later as he got out. He walked across to Erin and Hal. “It’s something else, right?”
“It certainly is,” she replied.
Lark and the other engineers arrived a minute later, and the group sauntered across the lot together toward the drinking den. Delphi seemed to be a place that required sauntering.
Fazir pushed at both half-doors at the entrance, swinging them open. A dim interior thick with people greeted them, along with an atmosphere heavy with the yeasty smell of beer and the sharp tang of strong alcohol.
The Delphinians appeared to also be from a bygone age. The men wore wide-brimmed hats and shabby pants and shirts, and the women were clothed in long, fitted dresses, in spite of the hot, dirty environment.
“Hey, Fazir,” said the bartender. “Long time no see.”
Erin’s guess that the place had no servitors seemed to be correct. Like the Odyssey’s cocktail lounge, the bar was staffed by humans. A slim, moustachioed man sporting a striped apron was behind the bar, and a woman holding two stacks of dirty glasses and wearing a saucy smile stood among the customers.
“Marvin,” said Fazir. “I’d like you to meet my boss, Erin, and some friends from the Transcend—Hal, Jere, Reiko, and Leif.”
“Visitors are always welcome,” Marvin responded. “It’s good to see new faces once in a while. What can I get you folks?”
“What do you have?” Jere asked. He was looking up and to one side, clearly trying and failing to read the bar list on the Link.
“We like to keep things simple around here,” said Marvin. “You can have whiskey, beer, or whiskey and beer.”
“Just beer for me, Marvin,” said Fazir.
“Taking it easy tonight, huh?” the barkeeper responded. “That’s not like you.”
Fazir coughed and glanced at Erin.
“Er,” Marvin continued, “except when you have important work to do, which is most of the time. Beer it is. And how about you, Lark?”
“I’ll have a beer too.”
Marvin gave a sigh of exaggerated disappointment and shook his head sadly. “Sweet lady, are you sure I can’t interest you in something stronger? Something that might lower your standards for just one night?”
Lark blushed and laughed. “You never give up, do you?”
“Can’t blame a man for trying. How about the rest of you?”
Erin and the others ordered beers as well.
“Where shall we sit?” Hal asked.
The bar was crowded. Most of the seats were taken, and the people who were standing clustered around one table. The ones at the back were craning to see past those in front of them. Something was happening at the table, but Erin couldn’t see what. The only spare seats were at the table next to the one where the interesting activity was taking place.
“I think we can squeeze in over there,” said Lark.
The engineers carried their beers over to the empty seats and moved the chairs around so they could all fit. Now Erin had a better view of the table next door. Six Delphinians were playing a game of cards. Their audience pressed close to them, peering over their shoulders to see what cards the players were holding.
“What’s happening there?” asked Hal, referring to the card game.
“I think they’re playing poker,” said Erin.
“What’s that?” asked Jere.
“You never heard of it?” asked Fazir.
“Not that I recall” said Jere. “How do you play it?”
“Certain sets of cards are better than others, in a hierarchy. The players bet according to the cards they have, hoping that their cards beat their opponents’, or they can bluff and bet high in the hope that the other players will pull out of the game and they can win the pot.”
“The pot?” asked Jere.
“That pile over there,” said Erin. “Can you see? They seem to be betting uncut gems.”
A pile of brightly colored though rough-textured stones sat in the center of the neighboring table, and smaller piles sat in front of each player. Erin guessed the Delphinians had dug them up locally.
Jere bent forward and peered between the players’ arms. “Cool. I’ll ask if I can join in later. Maybe I can buy some gems from someone.”
“That might not be such a good idea,” said Lark. “The games can get pretty heated.”
“You’ve seen a few, then?” asked Erin, unable to resist teasing, though she really didn’t mind at all what Fazir and Lark had gotten up to in order to pass the time.
“Oh, just one or two.” Lark coughed and covered her mouth.
The engineers watched the game and drank their beers, while Lark explained the finer points of poker.
After an hour or so, the gem piles in front of the players had dwindled, and the pot in the center had grown considerably larger. The tension in the bystanders was growing too. Dark looks began to pass between the players.
All became still. The play had stopped, and a silence stretched out.
The engineers had also stopped chatting, and their interest being drawn by on the poker game. Erin wondered what was going on. It was hard to tell without a clear view of the table, but whatever was happening, the players and the onlookers were rigid with tension. The crowd had ceased shifting about, and Erin had a good view of the table for the first time that evening.
Suddenly, a man growled, loud in the silence, “What’s it to be, Jake?”
“I’m still thinking,” Jake whined, slurring his words.
“We ain’t got all night,” said the first speaker.
“I’d fold if I were you,” an onlooker said. “Ned’s sitting there like the cat that got the cream.”
“Shut your mouth, Bernard,” Ned spat. He’d been the first to speak. The man’s smug expression shifted to anger.
“Hey, I was just sayin’,” said Bernard. “What I think don’t mean nothin’.”
Jake’s gaze was flicking between Ned’s cards and his own. He appeared to be digesting Bernard’s words. He blinked slowly once or twice.
“Dang it,” said Ned. “Don’t take any notice of him, Jake. He doesn’t have the first idea what he’s talking about.”
“That’s right, sugar,” said a female voice. The woman who was holding the dirty glasses was offering her opinion. “You do whatever you think is best.”
When Jake stared at his cards again, she subtly winked at Ned, who returned a grateful smile.
Jake’s features were riven with anxiety. He fingered the few gems he had remaining in front of him, then eyed the pile in the center greedily.
“I reckon you’re bluffing,” he said to Ned. Then he turned to Bernard. “And I reckon you’re in on it.” He pushed his entire pile of gems into the center. “I call.”
Ned whooped and threw down his cards. They scattered across the table, their faces upward. From her good vantage point, Erin saw two kings and three queens.
Jake cursed and flung down his cards. They bounced and turned over haphazardly, finally settling with two facing downward and three looking up: two jacks and a nine. Bernard reached out and turned over the remaining cards, revealing a pair of nines.
“I hate to say I told you so,” he said, “but—”
His sentence was cut short by Jake’s hands around his throat. The losing player had leapt across the table, scattering cards and gems to the floor.
Bernard fell
backward into Jere, who exclaimed, “Hey!” before leaping up.
Suddenly lacking anything behind him, Bernard hit the floor, and Jake landed on top of him, his hands remaining clamped on Bernard’s neck. Bernard gurgled and turned purple. Jere backed away, holding his glass aloft.
The bar’s patrons piled onto the pair and tried to prise off Jake’s hands. Meanwhile, Ned was scooping the pile of gems into a bag.
“Maybe we should go outside?” said Lark.
“I think that would be a great idea,” said Erin.
The engineers rose from their seats and edged around the crowd, who were pressing closer, eager to see the fight.
“We’re going to sit outdoors,” said Lark to Marvin as they passed the bar. “It’s a beautiful evening.”
“Sure is,” he replied. “I believe it’s a little quieter out there too.” He gave her a wink. “Maureen,” he called toward the glass collector, who had abandoned the altercation and was chatting with a customer, “stop flirting, and go clean up those outside tables.”
“I’m busy,” she called back, holding up dirty glasses as if they were evidence. “Send Butler.”
As the bartender grumbled a response, Fazir opened the doors, and Hal asked, “Aren’t they worried that those men are going to bust up the place?”
“Look around you,” Fazir replied. “What’s there to damage?”
Hal had to admit that the man had a point. The interior was as rough and ready as the exterior. Marvin’s bartop was the only clean, polished surface in the place. The tables and chairs all bore the signs of many repairs, the walls were gouged with the scars of previous fights, and the floor was stained and uneven. Only the air conditioning seemed to be in good working condition, for when they stepped outside, the Badlands’ heat hit them like a tsunami.
They picked the least dirty table and moved the used glasses on it to another surface. While they were taking their seats, the doors opened, and an automaton walked out. The model looked like one that had been in service for decades at Victoria before ending up on Athens, and the machine seemed to be on its last legs. It advanced jerkily toward the table that held the dirty glasses, one arm bent at an awkward angle.
When the automaton reached the table, it didn’t stop in time and crashed into the edge, sending the glasses flying.
Fazir tutted and got up. Lark joined him as he went over to help the antique machine.
“Hey, Butler,” Leif called out, “get me a beer.”
“It can’t hear you,” said Lark. “Its auditory system is shot to pieces. I keep telling Marvin he should get it fixed, but he says he likes Butler just the way it is.”
“You’ll have to shout your order to Marvin through a window,” said Fazir. “Maureen will bring it out.”
While the poker game had been going on, Erin had fended off frequent questions from Leif about her work. She decided to try something and see what happened.
“Leif,” she said as the man leaned in toward the window. “Can you order me a shot and a chaser?”
“Sure,” he replied. Then his eyes lit up. “I’ll have the same.”
The noise inside the bar had returned to its previous level, and Leif had to bawl the drink order to be heard. Erin watched him from the corner of her eye as he returned to his seat, and she saw a look flash between him and Reiko.
So they’re a team. That means Reiko’s disappearance earlier wasn’t a coincidence.
Maureen appeared with a tray bearing two shots and two beers. With brusque efficiency, she deposited the drinks on the table and swept away saying, “I’ll turn on the environment control,” over her shoulder.
Moments later, blissfully cool air blasted down from vents in the overhang.
“This is quite the spot,” said Jere.
“You can say that again,” Hal said. “It’s like something out of a vid.”
The mountain took up half their view, the cavern in its side now entirely black, no starlight penetrating the deep interior. The Cradle shimmered above, and behind them in the decrepit bar, the Delphinians were becoming raucous. Laughter mixed with vigorous arguments. Every now and then, Marvin’s voice could be heard, threatening to throw someone out.
Erin lifted her shot glass, tipped her head back, and threw the whiskey down her throat.
Leif cheered his approval and disposed of his whiskey in the same manner.
Erin sipped her beer, watching him over the glass rim.
“Another?” asked Leif, his expression eager.
She nodded.
“Are we having a drinking competition?” Fazir asked.
“Maybe,” said Erin, giving Leif a challenging look.
“You’re on,” said Leif. “No AI help?”
“No AI help,” she agreed.
A drinking match was exactly the kind of childish activity that fit Leif’s M.O., and Erin had a good idea of what it would lead to.
She quickly downed her beer, and Leif moved to sit next to her.
Reiko said, “This can’t be an easy place to live. What I don’t understand is what all these people are doing here.”
“Delphi is special,” Lark explained, “and its people are special too. They built this town themselves, you know. Didn’t have much equipment, but they liked the spot, so they built their houses anyway. Delphi isn’t on any official maps…. We didn’t know it existed until we flew over it one day and saw the buildings—then we thought we would drop in and introduce ourselves. The Delphinians made us feel welcome. They’re good people, interesting and fun to be around. There’s not many who would choose to live in the middle of nowhere with only basic supplies.”
“But is it safe, living around here?” Jere asked.
“Seismic activity in the Badlands is fairly low,” Lark replied. “Or it was until recently. Delphi is as safe as anywhere else in these regions. But only the polar areas are really safe.”
“Is there a reason they came here in particular?” asked Hal.
“That was part of why I wanted to sit outside,” said Lark. “If you wait a while, you’ll find out what’s really extraordinary about Delphi.”
While the conversation had gone on, Leif had ordered Erin and himself more shots. Maureen brought them out and deposited them on the table. Looking Erin in the eyes, Leif threw back his shot. She did the same. Leif smiled as he picked up his beer.
Suddenly, a low groan issued from somewhere. The deep note echoed and vibrated before rising slowly in pitch. Everyone except Lark and Fazir widened their eyes in surprise. The sound finally petered out in an almost-human sigh.
Hal said, “What the hell was that?”
“That’s the Oracle,” Lark replied, chuckling. “The noise comes from the cave erratically. Fazir and I think it’s probably volcanic gases escaping from the heart of the mountain, but no one knows for sure. The cave opening magnifies the sound.”
“So that’s why the locals named this place Delphi,” said Jere.
“It’s a little creepy,” Hal said. “Like something’s trapped in the mountain and it’s crying to be released.”
“When you put it like that, it does sound creepy,” Jere said. “I need another beer to calm my nerves.”
“Another drink for us too, Erin?” asked Leif.
She shrugged. “Sure.”
A couple of hours later, they’d continued to match each other shot for shot. Erin had lost count of how many she’d drunk. Leif had begun to talk to her quietly while other conversations went on around the table.
As the others had remained relatively sober and chatted about work, swapped funny stories, and generally shot the breeze, Leif had draped a supposedly drunken arm over Erin’s shoulder. She didn’t protest.
Emboldened, Leif again asked her about her work in New Canaan. They talked about other things too, but he always brought the conversation back around to what she’d done, where in the system she’d worked, what projects she’d worked on. He was trying to milk her for all she knew about the system.
<
br /> Erin’s suspicions were confirmed.
She fed him some lies about her work history, keeping the information vague. When she grew bored of deceiving him, she pushed away the next shot of whiskey that had arrived.
“I’ve had it, Leif. I give up. You win.”
He smiled smugly. “You did well for someone your size, but you never really stood a chance.”
Erin nodded and straightened up, pretending that Walter was clearing the alcohol from her system.
Fazir suggested it was time to head back to the PETER.
Lark said.
Buoyed by the rare compliment from her usually laconic AI, Erin climbed into her skiff with Hal, who input the PETER coordinates. The vessel rose into the air, and Erin began to compose a report to Tanis, detailing what had happened.
Erin would have loved to kick all the engineers from the Transcend out of the system, but she realized the action wouldn’t be prudent. She didn’t hold back in expressing her opinion to Tanis, though.
As the skiff arrived at the PETER, she finished off the report, saying,
‘I wouldn’t trust Leif to fix my morning coffee, let alone mend the PETER. Not that he’s a bad engineer, but I’d probably end up poisoned. I’m not asking for permission to send him packing, Tanis. I get why they’re here. But in case you were wondering if the Transcend has grown any less interested in what New Canaan has to offer, the answer is hell no.’
