Most taverns Pick had been to reeked of spilled beer and bad intentions, especially on Myero. The Gilded Oubliette was not one of those places. The walls were lined with black silken drapes that billowed gracefully in the re-circulated air. Expensive glassware clinked as servers brought drinks and small plates of expensive food that looked more like artwork than something edible. All the customers wore more expensive clothing than the vehicles he’d seen. The only people that looked out of place were himself and the man he was here to meet.
The man wore a long brown coat that had seen many years of use. His hair, light brown and messy, splayed about his head like tendrils.
As Pick sat down the man bumped his elbow and said, “Use your inside voice. Echoes travel far.”
At least the man knew Subslang. The terms were different depending on where you learned it, but if you knew the basics it was easy to pick up the general meaning. It was the best way to speak when you didn’t know who might be listening.
“I’m green,” Pick said as he settled into his seat.
“Call me Ash. Word has it you got delicate hands.”
“Handle is Pick. I find heavy things light, more often than not.”
The man nodded, “You work with springs or chips?”
“I can sing to both if I have a mind to.”
“You seen the blue bird at sunset?”
Pick let his eyes drift over the man’s shoulder, falling on a woman wearing a sapphire blue overcoat, drinking with others in the corner. Pick nodded his head, and waved to the bartender for a drink. He slid some units across the bar and sipped at the drink. Pick felt a sudden rise of nerves, his instincts prickling the back of his mind. Barely a minute into talking to Ash he was being pointed to a mark. He didn’t mind the expediency, but there was usually more getting to know each other before discussing these kinds of things.
Ash stretched his neck, “I’ve lost my shinies to the crow. You got a good eye to find them?”
“Listen, I don’t know you from the All Father,” Pick said, hesitantly.
“And you won’t,” Ash said sternly, “What’s not in our heads can’t be told to the dark.”
Pick scratched at his eyebrow trying to decipher the phrase in his head. He put the pieces together and nodded, “Green, but you’re looking a little orange around the eyes.”
Ash smiled, “Just put those hands to work and you’ll see the light.”
“How bright is it?” Pick asked.
“A lantern in the caves that could lead to noonday sun on Yres,” Ash responded.
“Promises promises”, Pick thought. Even though his instincts told him something was off, he was inclined to take the man’s offer, “What shiny thing has gone dim in your eyes?”
“A trifling thing I saw westward. Not too heavy, but shines bright in my eyes.”
Pick held the man’s gaze a long moment, then turned to the bar and finished his cup, “Need to see a little light before I flick my fingers. But, I’ll see you again when dreams sleep.”
Ash smiled, slid a handful of units to Pick, and stood up, “Keep the darkness away. You can’t come calling from the mouth of the beast.”
With that, the man Pick knew as Ash walked away. His departure left Pick with a lot of questions, and he rolled them over in his mind as he watched the woman. Pick went through the details of the job again, making sure he didn’t forget anything. Subslang was great for speaking discreetly in public, but it wasn’t always intuitively easy to understand.
The woman in the blue coat had some kind of information Ash wanted. Pick guessed if he was supposed to pick her pocket that it was on a data stick of some kind. She was keeping it on her right side, but he didn’t know where. And he was promised an opportunity to make good money, but not from this job.
So, this was a test. He’d been through them before. A lot of these small-time jobs were just job interviews in the Subspace Underworld. Still, something about this didn’t feel quite right. Of course, that could have more to do with the two people the woman in blue was drinking with.
One was a large man wearing a sleeveless shirt that showed the tattoos on his arms. He barked with laughter, slapping the table and almost spilling the drinks on the table. The woman in blue laughed along with him, though more gently, while the other woman rolled her eyes. He was muscle, for sure, but while he looked strong he was probably a lot slower than Pick was. The other woman looked more dangerous by far.
She was quieter than the other two, and far more aware of her surroundings. Her eyes scanned the more constantly, even as she sipped from her drink. She was more slender than the big bruiser sitting next to her, but her shaved head bore ugly scars and two ears with busted cartilage. She was a fighter, and she’d been through some serious roak. Of the three of them, she was the biggest danger.
Blue, Baldie, and Brawny. Blue was the target, but the others weren’t to be ignored. It’d be stupid to try anything here. It was too public, and Baldie was watching the crowd sharply. He’d have to follow them, see where they went, and find the best spot. As long as he met Ash by morning like he said it wouldn’t be a problem.
All there was to do now was sit, watch, and wait.
To be continued…
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