April 15th, 2046
Shari sat hunched over her drink at the bar in The Crater. Sitting hunched over a drink seemed to be a popular activity, as though a lot of people had had their drinks spilled in the past. Or maybe, like Shari, they just wanted to be left alone with the piss-poor beer.
She had developed a taste for beer visiting another bar in another place. More specifically, she had been visiting someone who worked behind the bar, and the only thing she had left from that relationship was a taste for beer. That and a desperate need to be out of New England which Von Bach Industries had met when they had recruited ark hunters to go south. It had been a welcome escape, right up until the crash, and that other thing.
The other thing perked up as she thought of it. ‘I’m detecting an Arkfall nearby, perhaps we should investigate.’ Damn stupid, perky EGO AI. Why did they have to make the thing so cheerful sounding? Shari hunkered down more and tried to ignore the shimmering female figure which had appeared behind the bar to peer at her with blank, white eyes. ‘You know, you never seem to want to go to Arkfalls. Why did you become an ark hunter?’
Talking to the thing without moving her lips had been a trick acquired quickly; people looked at you really funny if you talked to yourself. ‘I didn’t have much choice.’
‘I accessed your records. There’s no evidence of your existence until you appear in Bristwick, New Hampshire in twenty-forty-two. No one knew who you were, your age remains unknown. You were bringing ark-tech with you which allowed you to gain scrip and you have been hunting vo-tech for profit ever since. That does not explain why you joined Mister Von Bach’s expedition.’
‘You are absolutely right, it doesn’t.’
At least the thing was learning; it changed the subject. ‘You know, you should probably get out and do something. Sitting here drinking does nothing for your health. I heard there were raiders in some camps nearby, you could go out, find them, and repeatedly shoot them until they stop twitching. Perhaps some explosives should be involved.’ That was another thing, why was the perky little haigyi so damn bloodthirsty? When Shari did not respond for a few seconds, the ghost added, ‘It’s a public service.’
‘Uh-huh.’
There was a creak from the stool to Shari’s right as a new drinker sat down, and the EGO ghost flickered out of her sensorium. Shari was never sure why the thing did that; it was not like anyone else could see it. Shari flicked her amber eyes toward the newcomer; human, male, god-looking in a rough way. He had at least a day’s growth of beard on a pointy chin, was dressed in heavy duty work clothes, not new, and there was an assault rifle across his back. Another ark hunter, probably.
‘Hey,’ he said. Shari took a pull on her beer. ‘I’m Tony, Tony Castor.’
‘Shari.’
‘Uh… nice name. Is the beer any good?’
‘No.’
‘You, uh, don’t talk much, do you? Girl of action, right? I could use a little…’
He stopped as she moved and he felt the muzzle of a handgun push into his ribs. ‘Look, all I want to do is sit here and drink my beer. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to… entertain. I just want to be left alone. And if I pulled this trigger right now there isn’t a single person in here who would say a thing about it, so get lost.’
With a grunt Tony swung off his stool and headed for the door behind her. She heard the sniggers from some of the other patrons and felt her heart sink. He probably would not want to let it slide…
‘Look out!’ Her EGO implant called out the warning. That was one thing the ghost was good for. Shari threw herself backward, her toes hooking under the bar’s foot-rail. The burst of automatic fire from Tony’s rifle passed over her as she lined up her pistol, and then the blaster was unloading into Tony’s guts. At this range it was first to hit who won; Tony fell backwards through the door and did not get back up.
