13 Degrees of Separation

by Hechtl, Chris

  He didn't dare sit down. “That's mean Rick, the kid's fresh off the boat and you work him like a dog?” the lead waitress Penny said, shaking her head.

  “Hey, he wanted work,” the bartender said, spreading his hands. He leaned over the counter. The place was now closed, they had just finished the scheduled cleaning. “You got a place to crash kid?”

  “He can barely stand Rick, I bet he'll crash right here on the floor,” Penny said. She shook her head. “Did you at least eat?” she asked.

  Jerald frowned fuzzily and then shook his head. She sighed, shaking her head.

  “You got to eat, take a lunch break no matter what this meat head says. We usually do it between meal rushes,” she said.

  “People come in here to eat?” he asked. He remembered all the plates and bowls. Most of them had been for crackers or pretzels.

  “Yeah, beats going to a galley or restaurant for some. And some drink their meals,” Penny said. She went in the back and came back with an energy bar. “We got a maintenance tech, a regular to fix the food replicator. Here kid, energy bar. On the house,” she said, and then set a drink down next to it. She turned a challenging eye on Rick who just spread his hands apart and quickly shut his mouth.

  “Yeah, that's what I thought,” Penny growled and turned away. She leaned against the bar as Jerald picked the block up. He'd had a long road getting used to processed food on the ship. He hadn't liked it, his digestive track had spent its entire life eating real food. Fresh real food, not... this. Still he choked it down.

  “You obviously have experience kid,” Penny observed. “You aren't a ham handed twit like we've had in here. You didn't break a single thing and you knew some tricks. Good for you,” she said. He nodded.

  “I saw you get a drink of water. Next time don't drink from the tap though, that's gray water. Get it from the food replicator,” Penny said. She sat on the stool and took her sneakers off. She rubbed her feet, groaning softly. “And get some decent footwear,” she said.

  “I've got some in my bag. I didn't get a chance to swap them out.”

  “Ah,” she said nodding. “Agro world?”

  He nodded. “Is it that obvious?”

  “No, well, a little,” she said smiling. He hunched his shoulders. She snorted. “You grew up in a tavern?” she asked. He nodded.

  She turned to Rick who turned back. “You think you could run this place kid?” Rick asked.

  Jerald looked up. “If I had to sir. I don't know how well or for how long.”

  “You know how to balance the budget? Make a martini?”

  “No, well I can pour beer and I know how to get a drunk out,” Jerald replied. He'd had to toss two drunks out with the bartender during his marathon shift.

  “I saw that. But here things are a bit more... sophisticated kid. Get your act together. Get into the bartender college. Hell, the real Anvil college.”

  “There is one?” Jerald asked blearily.

  Penny threw her head back and laughed. “Leave the kid alone Rick, he's done in. Save it for tomorrow if we've got time.” She leaned over and patted the kid's knee. “You did good kid, no matter what this reject says. Just keep plugging,” she said and got up. She took her apron off, tossed it over Rick's head and then sauntered out with a slight hip bump to her walk.

  Jerald looked at the bartender as he irritably balled up the apron and tucked it under an arm. “She's a piece of work,” Rick grumbled.

  “I'm guessing a lifer?”

  “My wife,” Rick said, surprising the lad. He chuckled as he polished a glass and then held it up to the light to check for specks. “You can crash on our couch tonight, but I expect you to find a place tomorrow. Your shift starts in the afternoon, that will give you time to get sorted out. Okay?”

  “Yes sir,” Jerald replied.

  “It's not the Hilton kid, but it's safe and around the corner. Let me finish up here, lock up, and then we'll go.

  “Yes sir.”

  “And quit calling me sir! You're making me feel old!” Rick growled. Jerald smiled.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The next morning he found a cheap motel, Penny had thoughtfully left a printed paper with the directions circled under a breakfast bar and cup of juice. She'd left the trio of items and a note to take under two minutes in the shower on the coffee table.

  He took a quick shower then headed out. The door locked behind him, so there was no going back. He consulted the map she had provided but it really wasn't necessary, someone had put up signs along the walls. The motel was cheap, a half a day's wages each day, three days charge up front. It barely had a bed and bath, but it was home. It was also much more comfortable than that lumpy couch.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the wall screen. After a moment he found the remote and figured out how to turn the screen on. He entered the system and then explored.

  First thing, he studied his area, finding out where the nearest laundrymat was, as well as the nearest eating places. The bar had four stars, which surprised him.

  He also looked into some of the history of the station and system. It was quite fascinating, the renaissance this Irons had pushed the system into. Things had apparently really changed over the past year.

  He guiltily looked at the clock, he had just under two hours to get lunch. But first he found out about the Anvil college. Something told him Penny would quiz him about it when he got to the bar.

  He was glad it was cheap, but dismayed by class prices and the schedule. The only way to attend would be one class at a time, and he'd have to pay for it out of his tips. That meant he would have little to save.

  Which was another thing, he needed to get his banking sorted out, and find out when he was going to get paid by Rick. He frowned and then got up and got dressed. He had to go eat and then report in.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Penny nodded to him as he came into the bar ten minutes early. She smiled to Rick, who snorted but didn't rise to the bait. Penny finished taking an order, passed it to Rick, then came over as the lad made his way to the back door.

  “Did you find everything you needed?” Penny asked quietly.

  He nodded. “Yes ma'am, I did. Thank you.”

  “Hotel?”

  “Yes ma'am.”

  “Did you remember to eat?”

  “Yes ma'am,” he said with a smile. “This time,” he said.

  She chuckled. “Yeah, sometimes I forget too. I see you've got better shoes on,” she said pointing to the worn but clean shoes he had on. The ship slippers he had worn the previous night had given him a few blisters. He wasn't looking forward to rubbing them or breaking them today. “Good. It's a slow night, payday is on Friday. Most of our business is Thursday through Sunday. Or a game if there is one on.”

  “Okay,” he replied with a dutiful nod.

  “You'll get it figured out. Did you look into the college?”

  “I did a little. I was reading some of the history of the system,” he said.

  She looked at him and then nodded. “Good for you. Play tourist sometime too kid, it's not all work here. You have to play sometime,” she said.

  He nodded.

  “Just don't be stupid and drink or gamble your money away. Work on the college.”

  “I intend to ma'am,” he said.

  “Already trying to get rid of him Penny?” Rick called.

  Penny looked at her husband. “Unlike some people, I want him to better himself. He has the potential,” she said. Suddenly Jerald felt like he was in the middle of something. He looked from one to the other, unsure of what to do.

  Rick's eyes flashed but he smiled. “Right,” he drawled. “Which is why you married me,” he said.

  Penny pouted, hands on her hips. Rick just smirked, cleaning his glass. Finally she dimpled, coloring slightly. There was something there, some unspoken thing, Jerald realized. His parents had done it when they had been alive. He shrugged.

  “Get to work kid, table two ne
eds looking after,” Rick said gruffly.

  “On it,” Jerald said, ducking into the back for his apron.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  When his shift was over Jerald asked about manning a shift behind the bar. He was dirty and tired, but he knew he could handle the job. The problem was it was boring and demanding. Rick looked tired. He was the only bartender. The waitresses had replacements, well, all but Penny, but Rick didn't have a replacement.

  “You think you can handle my job kid?” Rick asked, clearly amused as he crossed his arms.

  “I think I can handle it,” Jerald replied, holding his ground.

  “Well, think again. Oh I wouldn't mind the break, but you have to have a liquor license to be a bartender here kid.”

  “You do?”

  “Hadn't gotten that far?”

  “No,” Jerald admitted, shaking his head.

  “Well, look into it kid. For now, I'm beat. Time for some loving with a beautiful woman,” he teased, pitching his voice to his wife.

  She turned, dimpling but she had a feisty look. “What? You seeing some hussy I don't know about?” she demanded.

  He chuckled, coming over to grab her. He slowly wrapped her in his embrace and then kissed her. She giggled, she was a head taller than him. She put her feet on his and he shuffled around, doing a slow dance as they held each other.

  Jerald watched them for a brief moment before he turned away, giving them their privacy. He finished the bar cleaning, shined the brass, then showed himself out.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  In the morning he had a quick breakfast, shower, did a little exercise and then looked around. He found the Laundromat, he wasn't happy, but he paid to have his meager clothes cleaned. He needed to get more, having three outfits was obviously not enough here.

  While he waited for his clothes to dry he looked into the banking issue. He made note of the nearest bank in his sector of the station. It wasn't necessarily the best, but it had the benefit of being nearby.

  He also looked into the liquor license. It took a bit of research, but he finally found out what he wanted to know.

  He could pass for the permit if he paid for it. That was annoying, having to pay to get a permit to pour beer. What were they thinking? He grunted in irritation.

  Since he only served ale, beer, or moonshine at the tavern he could do so once he passed the permit test. Then if he wanted to continue or get his full license he would have to go to bar college for bartending. He was intrigued by the very idea, going to college to learn to pour alcohol? When his shift started he talked to Penny and the others on his shift, both patrons and staff. The Anvil college had a small bartending class, but to get the full college experience he had to go to the college on 12Baker. He found out it's on a small agro colony. There were only a hundred people living there, the rest of the space was for the massive grain fields used to make bread or liquor. They also had massive vats for yeast and making beer, all in caves hollowed out of the asteroid. They used gene engineered crops and hydroponics, but still needed light and space for the plants to grow. The habitat was under the surface farms.

  Last year the crops had been destroyed by a solar flare. The intense radiation had seared the crops, irradiating them into wilted ruin. That explained why the price of alcohol had tripled he realized.

  The course was a month long, you had to pay for everything while there, and it was quite expensive. He frowned but then set the thought aside to finish his shift.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  On Monday he went to the college, first thing. He signed up, smiling to the older lady who had helped him through the sign in process. A young girl poked him after the nice older woman had left. “You know who that is?” she hissed at him.

  “Um, no she never did give me her name,” he said, frowning.

  “That's the dean you idiot!” the girl said, shaking her head.

  “It is?” he asked stupidly.

  She giggled at his expression, covering her mouth. He blushed, feeling his ear tips burn. “Um...”

  “Either she was bored or amused by you. Either way kid, count your blessings,” the girl said. She clutched her tablet to her chest and left with only one backwards glance. He frowned after her and then picked his new tablet up.

  The tablet was student issue, something he had happily discovered when the kind woman had pointed it out to him, amused by his ignorance. She had also handed him several small chips, she had called them flash sticks, and had tapped the tablet and then sternly told him to read the school rule book. He had dutifully nodded. Now he understood why she had emphasized that.

  He had signed up for the basic freshman correspondence course, taking refresher classes. Upon the woman's advice he'd taken junior courses, they wouldn't earn him credits but they would ease him into college. Hopefully he wouldn't get swamped. She had also pointed out scholarships. He made a mental note to look into that. But first he had to get moving, his next shift would be starting soon.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  His first week of school was bewildering, now he had another map to memorize, plus memorize methods to get to the college and to the bar quickly. Rick had called him in to cover a shift, that had thrown him but he'd done the job without complaint. When Friday came along he was exhausted but elated, he'd survived both so he knew he could handle things. It was also his first payday from the bar, he didn't have to live off his tips. When he returned to the motel he paid for the following week and then went to study.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  While in school he met a tattoo artist in training. The girl Julie was covered in tattoos, some quiet elaborate. One was a holographic portrait that popped off her skin. She explained it was powered by her body heat, it was the latest rage.

  He considered getting a tattoo, a lot of the patrons in the bar and even Penny and Rick had at least one. But when he found out about the cost and payment plan, he reluctantly decided against it.

  Julie had smiled when he had demurred, and had found another guy to be interested in.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  He accidentally ran into a mugger when he got turned around exploring the station. He managed to stay out of arms reach, but then a second mugger popped up. “What's your hurry kid?” he laughed. It was an ugly, feral laugh that chilled the lad. He knew instantly he was in trouble. He saw the knife one had in his palm and that was all it took to make it clear he needed to get out of there.

  He turned and ran. The scruffy men bayed like wolves and gave chase. He entered a main concourse, crossed the empty darkened area and then dived into a hatch with a picture of a cat on the front. He slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against it. There was a thump as one of them men hit it, then a gloating laugh.

  “We'll be waiting for you when you finish,” a voice called.

  He got his bearings, it was dark, there was red lights in the room, some furniture, carpet in odd places, and tapestries. One apparently covered a hatch to another room.

  He heard females chirruping and meowing. He wasn't sure what to make of it. “It's a human!” a nearby voice said.

  “What's a human doing here?” a voice asked.

  “I smell fear!”

  “I could do a human!”

  “I could too, want to double team him?” another voice called out.

  “Sure,” the second replied with a chirrup.

  “Down girls,” the proprietress said, coming in wearing a red silk sarong. She was a leopardess, lean and tall, with grace beyond her feline lineage. She eyed the human for a long moment. “Lost young man? Or in an exploratory mood?” she asked, flicking her ears forward in humor.

  “Um...” he looked around, still panting. He was in a waiting room, that much was obvious now. A waiting room for Neo's judging by the brown domestic male cat who had been grooming himself in the corner. The male looked up with a sniff then went back to cleaning his coat. The brown and black male ignored him, though his ears were flat. “Um... No... y
es...”

  “Which is it kid? You aren't our usual clientele,” the Leopard churred, cocking her head as she drummed her fingers on her folded arms. She stopped and gently stroked her cheek whiskers with one hand.

  Suddenly he realized where he was, a cat house. A feline prostitution house. He blinked, blushing. “I'm um, sorry to intrude,” he stuttered, not sure what to do. He obviously couldn't retreat right away.

  “Something is wrong,” the feline said, looking at him. “Out with it,” she ordered. The male cat looked up in interest.

  Something about her, her self confidence, the white in her muzzle, the situation, he felt safe in her presence. Yes she was a predator in more ways than one, but he much preferred her presence over the duo outside. Something also told him she was a mother, and he felt oddly comforted by her grass green knowing eyes.

  He told his story to the patron and the leopardess. Her tail thrashed, and her ears went back. She folded her arms, keeping the sarong in place but also drumming her fingers on her arms. She wasn't amused, muggers in the area gave her sector a bad rap, it drove away business by labeling it a crime zone. She looked over to Rigby, the tom. He flicked his ears and whiskers, clearly amused by the human's predicament but not by the idea of muggers outside.

  “Um, sorry, my name is Jerald Holmes, I'm ah...”

  He told her who he was, how he was a college student working part time at the bar. The bar name made her nod.

  “You know Rick and Penny. You're the new kid they took under their wing. Okay kid, I've heard of you.”

  “You know them?” he asked, clearly surprised. Both cat's snorted, flicking their ears.

  “It's a big station but people get around kid. We all know each other. At least the old hands do,” she said, flicking her ears in humor. He blinked at her.

  “Come on, I'll walk you home. Or at least out of the area.”

  He felt embarrassed, like his manhood had just been questioned. To be protected by a woman? He had been taught to be the protector. He stood taller. “I can...”