Breathless from the exertion, Luke paused as he reentered the foyer of the Right Nut. He had broken into a dead run once he was out of the reach of Jackov and especially H.T. Mergatroid. The door to the Number 8 Lift was still open as he had rushed in and pressed the “Down” button. However, no matter how fast the lift moved, it was not fast enough for Luke. After seemingly endless moments, he had burst into the Left Nut’s ground floor foyer, ran out of the building, then simply headed, almost on automatic, back to the Right Nut.
But now what? He was still angry and still shuddering from his encounter with these two. Despite his earlier stated intent, though, it was silly to just resume working. His mind was too distracted. Instead, he began to pace rapidly back and forth in the Right Nut’s foyer, trying to think. Trying to concentrate.
He found he couldn’t. So, finally, he just left. Checking that no one was looking, he dashed again as fast as he could from the Right Nut, then up the hill toward home. At the top of the hill he stopped, thoroughly winded, and slipped behind a tree to hide. After a moment spent gulping his air, he chanced a careful look back at the complex. He saw that the windows on the 101st floor still glowed their bluish glow, but other than that the Obelisk and its museums oddly were no different than they ever had been. Yet, how could he ever return? Enough is enough, he thought. His lungs still burning, Luke resumed his flight, now slowed to a hasty walk, hoping neither Jackov nor H. T. would follow, or even notice.
Luke didn’t go home. He needed other people. He needed normal. Once again Luke found himself at Phredy’s pub. It was
Except by Larry Avideyes, the town lecher. Larry was a short, bug-eyed little snot who wore shabby clothes and barely blinked. He did, however, live up well to his nickname. Whenever a female was around, Larry would whisper to anyone within arm’s reach how sexually adventurous she had been when he had had her alone. It was always a sham, of course, as everyone knew. No female anywhere—of any species— would ever come anywhere near Larry. Even guys tried to avoid him. Still, Larry insisted with a leer, “Everyone needs a hobby”; and he would share his perverted interest on an annoyingly recurring basis. Luke was convinced Larry was actually celibate, probably all plugged up from a lifetime of sexual frustration.
Now Larry, as usual thoroughly ignored even in a crowd, accosted Luke as he headed for the bar. Smiling broadly and bent in conspiracy, Larry tried to show Luke some “secret photos.” Luke attempted to brush him off with a sharp, “Go away,” but it didn’t work. Finally, Luke turned and, hands out, lurched toward him, sharply barking, “Larry!”
That worked. Leer now gone and head hung low, Larry shuffled off.
With Larry disposed of, Luke waved to Phredy, who brought him his usual New JW Red then steered back toward other customers. As he leaned against the bar and started to swirl the ice in his drink, Luke finally felt he could relax a little.
Then he felt the presence next to him.
Thinking it was Larry again, Luke turned to bark another dismissal; but, instead, he froze, mouth hanging open. Standing to his left was the man with the black cloak he had seen in the pub before. The red eyes transfixed Luke, as the two just stared at each other. Up close, the man was not like anyone Luke had ever seen. The features appeared human. Sort of. Almond-shaped bald head. Two eyes. A predictable pair of nostrils more or less masked by the aquiline curve of the nose. A small, lipless mouth low on the chin. But the skin wasn’t cocoa-colored, as Luke had thought, having seen him on earlier evenings only in the dim light of the bar. It was almost greenish; and its texture looked hard and hairless, like the smooth, unwrinkled shell of a turtle or something. It was the eyes that riveted, though. They were very finely faceted and reflected red, no matter the angle of the light. And they, indeed, did not blink.
“You are looking for me,” the man seemed to say, although the mouth moved little and the statement in Luke’s mind was more thought than sound.
“No. I don’t think so,” ventured Luke, and started to turn back toward the bar.
“Yes. I am Sledge.”
Luke spilled his drink. The liquid splashed against the bar and flowed over the edge onto Luke’s trousers. Luke clumsily tried to wipe up the mess with his cocktail napkin, then, that being grossly insufficient, finally wiped it with his right sleeve, soaking up a lot of good scotch.
“Great,” said Luke, still fumbling with the mess. “Look, Sledge, or whoever you are, go away. Leave me alone. I don’t want any of this.” He refused to look at Sledge again.
“No. We must go.”
Luke tried to get Phredy’s attention once more at the other end of the bar, but Phredy was still busy with others and hadn’t noticed the spill due to the noise in the pub. “Sorry. I’m here to have a nice drink alone. That’s it.” Luke was insistent.
“No. There is no time.” Sledge, too, was insistent.
“Time for what?” Luke barked, turning back toward Sledge, his anger returning. He almost added, And why me?
“There is no time,” Sledge repeated.
Luke just stared at Sledge. The red eyes stared back. Luke was intense, frowning. Sledge stood there, impassive and persistent. As they glared at each other, Luke gradually became conscious of the reactions—or more precisely the lack of reactions—among those around him. Several patrons had glanced at Luke when he spilled his drink, chuckling about his having “one too many.” But no one—no one—looked at or appeared to be aware of Sledge. No one.
That startled Luke, and he looked anew at Sledge. This time he saw, barely visible, a cloth patch, a black arrow, sown horizontally on the left breast of Sledge’s black cloak. Luke’s eyes widened.
“There is no time,” Sledge conveyed again. His words came through clearly, quietly, and firmly to Luke’s mind, despite the pervasive noise of the pub. With them, Luke’s own sense of place and awareness increased sharply.
Luke grabbed his drink long enough to finish the last unspilled swig, then turned back to Sledge. “Ok,” he resolved. “Let’s go.”
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