George
Getriebe had thought his life dull. Sure he had whatever he needed
from the city he lived in, the tower city Covenant. Shelter, food,
healthcare - all were provided.
There
were shops to trade, factories for employment and products, even
gardens for recreation and greenhouses for agriculture. Covenant had
the space for it all, being a tower reaching up to the skies and a
width so thick it would take could easily take a day to walk across
unaided.
And
there was peace and security, guaranteed by the city's laws and
upheld by the ruthless Enforcers.
But
George's life still lacked excitement. Entertainment in the city, in
the form of theaters and clubs, was more a chore than a delight. The
only exception were the television programs about the wasteland
around the tower. George had always watched those, whether they be
stories or documentaries.
George
had first heard about the wasteland from Papa. His old man had told
him about the sandy lifeless land around the tower, a place without
law, where everyone was free to do as they wished. There was
excitement, there were mysteries and there were hidden treasures.
So as
soon as George had turned eighteen, and was eligible to visit bars, he
had started visiting Sandy's Last Hand in the darker side of one of
Covenant's commercial districts. It was there that adventurers of the
wasteland gather. There were explorers, raiders, treasure hunters,
the occasional bandit - people who made the wasteland a part of their
lives, whether as part of their jobs or as diversions. It was
probably the closest George would ever get to the exciting life he had
always dreamed of.
Getting
in each time had been an inconvenience for George. His small stature
made people think of him as a 'boy'. He was eighteen! He was a young
man! The ID in his wrist communicator proved it!
Once he
had settled, however, the trouble had been quickly forgotten each
time. The atmosphere within the bar had usually been lively. Drinks
had been of average quality and there had actually been a few quality
food cubes and nutrition paste on the menu, and at reasonable prices
too!
That
particular morning, George was early at the bar. It was his day off.
Silly him, in his excitement to spend the day there, he had
mistakenly dressed for work in his coveralls. He had even stuffed
tools in his pockets and on his belt for some odd reason. He noticed
it once he was in the bar, as he was yet again showing his ID (bless
Covenant's obsession to label everything and everyone) to the
bartender.
George
had a day job at Papa's gadget fixing shop. Day after day, he had
stooped over a work table fixing appliances. It had been boring work.
He always had the same old uninteresting thing to fix, things like
wrist communicators, child tracking devices, broken toys, the
occasional kitchen sink. Never anything fun like a high fidelity
sound system or a short range radar.
His
father had taken all the fun jobs for himself.
Once the
bartender was satisfied with his ID, George ordered himself a soda.
No sense getting inebriated while trying to eavesdrop for exciting
gossips and stories.
After a
gulp of the sweet gassy drink, George looked around for anything of
interest. The busty waitresses in very short skirts were attractive
but they were not why he was there. There were adventurers, but at a
fraction of the number that would be present later that night. George
glanced at each of the tables of adventurers, looking for a group
that would have and be willing to share tales. Their appearance and
their noise level would give him clues.
George
had heard many tales, mostly from sitting close to loud people
bragging about their exploits. He had even once been accepted at a
table with a few explorers where he had listened closely to their
discoveries. Oh, and he had to show his ID to those explorers to
prove that he had met the bar's minimum age limit. That was how he
had scored an apologetic invitation to sit with those adventurers.
The
double doors of the bar slid open. Two women entered.
The
woman in front was of average height with her dark brown hair wrapped
into a bun and secured with a black clip. She had a long brown coat.
Beneath the coat, a pistol could be seen on her belt when she twisted
aside. She was young and quite pleasing to the eye.
George
was about to look away when he noticed, on the back of the woman's
coat, the logo of a red fox's grinning head over a background of a
gray cloud. Well, he thought it was a fox, since he was not sure what
an actual fox looked like.
The
other woman had a similar logo on her breastplate, over her heart.
That other woman was tall, with skin of ebony. She had short black
hair and she wore ceramic armor that covered her body and limbs. On
her belt, she had a sword and a pistol.
George
recognized the logo as that of the Scarlet Vixens, a well-known group
of wasteland adventurers he had heard many rumors of. Tales of the
Scarlet Vixens' crazy exploits were always full of excitement and
loot, with stories of treasure hunting and besting great foes, of
visiting faraway places and seeing strange sights.
Maybe he
would hear new interesting stories.
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