“What the hell are you people up to?” Bill asked over comms.
“Lots and lots of shenanigans,” Bridget replied. “Not all of our own making.” She motioned to the blood drops on the ground. “Let’s follow them. Maybe we’ll learn something.”
“I'll follow,” I said. “You guys go around to the street. I think I'll try to get out of the alley as quickly as possible. They need to get Skeev to a doctor, assuming they’re rescuers and not kidnappers.”
Skeev was still bleeding as the occasional blood splatter plainly showed. It made tracking easier, at least until the blood trail ended at a closed door.
“What the hell?” I frowned at the door. There was nothing special about it, and the pattern of blood drops didn't seem to indicate any kind of struggle. I tried the door. It was locked and felt solid.
“Guys, see if you can find the front of the building to the west of my current location,” I said. “Skeev and his companions went in there, I think voluntarily, since the blood trail is clean.”
“Got it,” Garfield replied.
It took about two minutes with me standing in the alley looking suspicious as hell. I tried leaning casually against the far wall, but that just made me think of West Side Story, and probably looked even more suspicious, if anyone was watching. At this point, if the Administrator had eyes on this whole fiasco, we were definitely blown. I wondered if some version of drones would come swooping in to grab us.
“We're here,” Bridget said. “It's a hotel, no way to pin anyone down. They could've just gone straight through and out the front door.”
“Shit.”
This outcome deserved an expletive. We’d lost our first legitimate lead AND attracted attention to ourselves at the same time. No question, the second group of thugs would remember Super-Gar when they recovered their wits, probably the third group as well. Taking a bullet and just getting angry would look very Terminator-like.
“Time to bug out?”
“Let's meet at the third pub,” I said. “The Old Gator. Bill, you good?”
“Yeah, no problem. I'll be there before you guys. Go the long way around. This snarl-up is still a mess.”
Garfield took a long pull in his beer. I leaned forward and watched for any streams of liquid pouring out of his chest. He caught the direction of my gaze and snorted, almost losing a mouthful.
We brought Bill up to date on our adventures. I hoisted my own glass as Bill described the traffic jam. It really did sound like someone it just started a fight and it had gone out of control - exactly like what had happened to me. Definitely anger management issues. It would make for an interesting civilization.
The beer was kind of growing on me - unlike the fish soup. I wondered if I should record a batch for Howard. Maybe he could adapt it for humans, or worst case, we just keep it in the Bobiverse.
Garfield put his stein down and held out his hand to show a small item. “Flechette. It seems to have the consistency of dried gummy bear. I dipped it in some water and it dissolved a bit. I bet it some kind of drug.”
“Hm. Unfortunately, our nanites can't do cam analysis.” Bridget poked the item with a finger. “But I imagine you're right. Probably a tranquilizer. If they wanted to kill someone, a bullet would be easier. Or a knife.
“Where's the gun?” Bill asked.
Gar made a small head motion. “In my pack. It took a quick look at it. It has a magazine in the handle that feeds flechettes. This one was mostly empty. And an air cylinder for propulsion. It even looks like it could be pumped up to recharge. It's good tech.”
“So was that group, um… Administration, do you think?”
Bill shook his head. “My money's on the Resistance. The tranquilizer gun strikes me as something the Administration would be more likely to have.”
“Well, they did have one. I mean, they'd all have them. And the guns would be full. This feels more like one stolen gun.”
He paused and frowned. “Bob. Skeev asked you if you were from the Resistance. Did he sounds scared?”
“About us being Resistance? Not really, no.”
Bill nodded. “So he was probably with the Resistance in the first place, and had been trying to get back in touch with them after his Scattering.”
“I think the third group was Resistance and was there to rescue Skeve, and we got in the way. Whether they thought we were with the locals who were trying to kill him, or maybe the we were administration, they stepped in, jumped us, and rescued him.”
“But if we were administration wouldn’t we have guns?”
“Hm. True. So I'm going with ‘thought we were locals’.”
“I still think that hotel wasn't random,” Garfield said. “They aren’t going to leave a back door open. I bet they had a knock or something.”
“Do you want to stake it out?” I asked. “We could keep an eye on the place for a while. Maybe Skeev will show up again.”
“Then we go in and trash the place?” Bill asked with a grin.
Bridget rolled her eyes. “Okay, I know you're not being serious, but it's still worth a reminder that we can't do anything superhuman.” She glared at Garfield. “Or at least nothing else superhuman. We want to find out about them, not the other way around.”
“Yeah,” I added. “The locals might not be able to take us on, but if the Administrator gets wind of us, well, they certainly have better tech and probably could throw superior numbers out us. One thing I do not want to do is get captured and disassembled.”
Garfield nodded. “So we can’t go in like a SWAT team. That also means we'll have to avoid direct confrontations. Hmph. You'd think being a bunch of spacefaring computers would have more of an upside.” He grinned at us and got some chuckles
