The World's Calling

Through a string of bribery and some minor threats of exposing less than legal business practices, Rhys had been able to catch up with where Shoa was and more importantly this “Cormack” guy. Some kind of meat salesman. Good one too. Way too good for some people.. Getting meat like he had required land and unless Cormack hid a fridge, a caravan, and a couple of acres of farmland near here, there was no way that he could meet the demand. While Rhys could care less about some riled-up street vendors, what she did care about were the Vegas men they paid to run him out of business and hopefully out of town. It certainly didn’t help that he was a couple of shades darker than paper so that made him an easy target. Combined with fraternizing with a Mech, and with Shoa gaining a reputation, they’d be ripe for trouble, it was just an issue of how to get there.

Turning the corner, Rhys came across the inn Cormack was supposed to stay in. The receptionist had one hand on his face and the other on the page of whatever trashy pulp fiction they could gather. Some red-haired, pale, and pimply teenager made to run the family business while getting paid “family wages.” Rhys slammed her arms onto the counter in a huff.

“Hey man, have you seen a Mech come in here?”

The teen didn’t look up. “Orange guy?”

“Yeah.”

“What about him?” Their eyes suddenly stopped reading the page as they flashed a look at who they were talking to. “You a cop?”

Rhys flashed her Runner badge. “Next best thing. Mech is just important and I need to know where the hell he is.”

“The Robot?”

Was this guy slow? “Yeah man, the Robot. Where the hell is he?”

The boy flipped a page in his book.“He was here, now he’s not.”

Mother-

“And where is he now?”

A shrug. “Went outside with some people,.” the receptionist lazily responded.

An incredulous look came over the face of Rhys “What do you mean ‘you heard’?”

A shrug from the teen. “Manager told me that when some dudes came, I should take a break.”

“So?”

“Dudes came, dudes went. I was on break.”

There was only one reason why a group would come and go like that. Rhys had hoped that news wouldn’t have spread that fast but even if they didn’t especially hate Shoa, they would still leave him more roughed up than he would’ve liked. She didn’t have time to be playing around with someone who couldn’t care less about the guy. Moving briskly out the door, Rhys kept up the search.

All.

Goddamn.

Night.

A similar tempo became apparent. Rhys would ask about Cormack or the Mech. People would give hints about one or the other or both and refused to give up information entirely or until they were bribed, and even in the cases of the latter, they still seemed to give nothing. She blew through her pay from the Hickshaw job and was down to what was left from when she started her journey. As she caught her breath and repressed the urge to hurl from the running, Rhys found herself in front of a bar at the crack of midnight. The drunks spilled out the doors as the sleeping hour hit and cotton beds began calling them home—the last place before people would shut down for the night. Rhys pushed through the pickled and sat down at the counter while the animalia started to lock down her drink cabinets.

“The Mech? Yeah. Nice tipper that one.”

There was a click as the key around her neck shifted in the padlock. “Real nervous and spilling his guts to Cormack. Was going to ask why but something about it didn’t feel right.” She looked Rhys up and down.

“That’s all I know. Once they left, that was the last time I saw them.”

There was only one thought the tired girl at the counter could direct towards the barkeep. A very offensive thought... A mechanoid anywhere is a minor ruffle, him with someone people had enough of an issue with to put a hit out?

“Miss, we both know that someone came in here and that someone gets people talking. So would you please mind helping me out here? ”

Once more, the Goat looked at her up and down.

“Knew a couple of kin before I came here. Just wanted to trade and live and all that. Next thing we know, Runners are getting in their faces. The first few “taxes” were fine, part of business. But then it became personal. All of a sudden, they want us back in Evermore. Leaving leftover pig shit on our doorstep. Asked for help countless times, just got the same response that they couldn't spare people. That it was our word against theirs. That they couldn't kick out people who were so important to the spirit of the town." She slammed the cup down firmly. "Your Notary machine is so important, tell the Union heads to get their shit together. Come down and actually help.”

. There was something wrong with the next statement. Rhys knew it as soon as it left her mouth. Acidic truth leaving her lips.

“I will miss. I swear it. Just please help me out here.”

It was desperate, it was pathetic, yet the worst part of it all is that it was stamped onto her soul as soon as she said it. Even the goat-kin in front of her was taken aback. However much it may have surprised her, it was brief and the barkeep kept on as she regained her composure.

“... Vegas people here aren’t gonna kill him. Rough em maybe but they won’t kill em. Can’t afford to get locked out like that. Couple yards out by the lake. They’ll be pointing them out of town. Tell Ivy or Frida or whoever what Almathea said, right?”

Rhys could only thank the goat woman profusely as she left what was left of her funds in their tip jar before rushing out the door.