4 Isten 1117: Venad – Adar/Hinterworlds (0402 A221621-B Ni Po Na 324 Im M0V M6D)
Today was quiet.
I found myself not having anything to do for the first time in the last few weeks. After taking care of a bit of paperwork and other details, I decided to head into town.
I had barely left my hotel when I found myself in a crowd. A horde of people was heading towards the Starport and, with a curious shrug, I followed.
There was some sort of protest going on outside of the main entrance. A large number of security guards were lined up inside the gate with more in a half-dozen air-rafts floating overhead. Another half-dozen air-rafts were circling the area, all showing the logos of local newsnet channels. Even more onlookers floated around, but they all stayed on the Startown side.
A podium was set up in front of the entrance and someone I vaguely recognized from the local newsnet was ranting about how it was time for the Imperium to leave and let Venad return to Ral Ranta control. Much of the crowd was cheering loudly, but a not-insignificant portion of it was looking on in disagreement. But they also seemed to realize the mood of the group and didn’t openly say anything.
I was about to leave when I felt something tug at the edge of my jacket. I spun and grabbed the wrist of the person behind me.
I saw it was a young boy, probably barely into his teens. My remote was in the hand I had grabbed, and I retrieved it with my other before releasing him. Without a word, he turned and raced off into the crowd.
I shrugged. It certainly wasn’t the first time someone had tried a lift on me, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Still, this crowd was probably attracting the professionals as well as amateurs, so I decided to make my exit.
I wound up only about a block down the street. I found a bar called Misjump and stepped inside.
My ears popped as I cleared the pressure door and, looking around, I smirked at the decor. It was made up to look like the interior of a starship, but one as imagined by Captain Spaceways or some other net drama. Which meant that it was way too open and way too clean. There weren’t many actual ships’ crews in here; this was for the locals and the tourists. But I decided that I might find a bit more solitude here than I would in a more crew-friendly place, so I went up to the bar, found an empty stool, and ordered the local beer.
They had a human bartender here, which was a plus though I knew his presence would be reflected in the price. Still, I took my beer, tossed him a few extra credits to make sure he remembered me, and then started pulling up info on my comp.
I looked closer at the data on Fugitak, trying to decide what cargo would best sell there. They basically didn’t have anything. The planet was barely populated; about 250 people divided into around two-dozen “claims.” They made their living by harvesting mineral outcrops. The outcrops had reacted with their exotic atmosphere to create wildly shaped and colored crystals. They carefully removed them to be sold as they were as decorative pieces, or artists and sculptors would refashion them into other forms of art. In return, they needed to buy anything and everything. Their fabricators would give them basic food, shelter, and life-support, but anyone who has tried living on what comes out of a fabricator for too long will tell you how desperate you become for absolutely anything else after a while.
Foodstuffs would be obvious for trade, but Venad wasn’t much of an agricultural world either. Finally, I decided that entertainment items would be the best choice, followed by repair parts. There isn’t a lot to do when you spend most of your life in a hostile environment suit or in an underground habitat and when you’re living under those conditions you want to make sure the machinery around you keeps working. Your life literally depends on it.
I spent some time checking the local market boards, looking to see what I could find. I put in a few offers on some smaller lots –I didn’t want to commit to too much quite yet– and also registered our planned departure time and destination with the starport net. That would let the freight shippers and anyone who actually wanted to travel to Fugitak for some unknown reason to contact us.
That took a while, and I was several beers in by that point. When I looked around, I noticed that evening had fallen, and that the crowd inside had picked up. Most of the tables and seats around the bar were filled, and several groups were standing just inside the entrance and waiting to find a table. I saw one group of three women there, one of who had been looking at me but who looked away when she saw me looking back. I picked up my pack, which had been occupying the seat next to me, stood up, and gestured towards them. There was a brief look of surprise, a few laughs directed towards the woman who had been looking at me, then they came over.
I found out that they were a group who had just graduated from some university over in the Old Expanses. I promptly forgot the name of it and its planet. They were spending about six months Travelling before they had to go back to the “real galaxy” and start work.
They were all Medics. Well, two Medics and an Exobiologist. The Exo was the one who had been looking at me. She was embarrassed at first but, after a bit, she revealed that she had been sure I was an actual Traveller as opposed to just some random local in the bar and her companions hadn’t believed her. The fact that I actually had my own ship was a bonus, and she wasted no time rubbing it in her friend’s faces.
We eventually retreated to a table. There was food, drink, conversation, and dancing. After a while, her friends had wandered off, and I found myself alone with Halley, the Exo.
“So…” I said as the crowd was finally starting to clear out a bit. “Need me to call you an air-cab?”
She looked around with a slight frown. “Yeah… I guess. I don’t see Nicana or Orean around…”
“Or…” I paused. “There’s a pretty good bar at my hotel. We could have one more there?”
She slowly smiled. “Sure! Sounds good to me.”