“We don't have any choice though, do we?” Bridget said. “This is the first real lead we've gotten. Even if were still thrashing around, at least our area focus is better defined. A lot.”
Garfield sighed. “Also a good point. Okay, I will try to figure a way to keep an eye on the hotel.”
“Barney's Place,” Bridget said.
“Seriously? Barney?”
She smiled. “Almost. The native name sounds very similar. I knew it would be the first thing that came to mind. Especially considering the infantile Bob sense of humor.”
“And yet you went straight right there,” I replied. “I think perhaps it's catching.”
Bridget looked alarmed, and Garfield and Bill started chanting. “One of us, one of us.”
“Oh shut up.” Bridget was silent for a moment, thinking. “Anyway, if Gar is taking care the hotel, I guess the rest of us should just go back to looking around. Could we get some kind of search pattern or something?”
“Excellent idea. I'll see if I can get a close scan of the town and ask Hugh to grid it out for us.”
Bill groomed his fur and thought. “Also, if Skeev was injured, he'd have to go to a doctor or hospital or something. Maybe we can figure out something along those lines?”
“I’ll look into that.” Bridget said. She gazed at me. “Which leaves you, oh fearless leader.”
“I'm going to sit here and drink,” I replied, raising my tankard.
“In your dreams, beaver boy. Find us a new place to stay a little closer to Barney's, how about that? And tomorrow maybe we can finally locate the library I keep talking about.”
I grinned back at her. Fearless leader my furry ass.
There were several hotels in the area, this block being hotel row. I picked one at random, paid in advance for a week, and collected the key. I like the way the proprietor leered at my money pocket, as I meted out the proper coinage. We’d have to make a point of leaving nothing of value in our room.
“Got us a room,” I messaged to the others and attached directions and an image.
“Great,” Bill replied. “I've made arrangements with Hugh to get the town scanned. Unfortunately, moving the drone and doing a detailed scan will use of its remaining heatsink capacity, so he’ll have to fly it out and bring in a replacement. He’s grumbling about setting the project behind schedule.”
“Like there's an actual schedule. I think the Skippies are just OCD.”
“As opposed to the rest of you,” Bridget observed.
No one chose to reply
The others would be a half hour or so getting home, so I took the time to look around her new digs. This room was somewhat bigger than our previous residences, having just about enough room to swing an actual cat with everyone present. Palatial. The ceiling, as with most buildings, was just open rafters. Of course, the climate was mild and Quinlans came with fur, so insulation was not a major consideration.
I eyed the rafters until I spotted a good location. Not big enough to hide something valuable, therefore, unlikely to be of interest to a burglar. I placed my hand in front of my face palm down and opened my mouth. A 1-inch roamer marched out onto the back of my hand. If anyone was watching, that would probably give them nightmares for life.
I reached up on the roamer climbed from my hand onto the nearest beam, then made its way to the hiding place. The 1-incher was about the smallest model that would have optics suitable for surveillance. Otherwise, I’d have gone with nanites. If someone cased the joint while we were gone, I just wanted to know. I didn't want to scare them half to death. Well, okay, maybe a little bit. Bad Bob.
I was considering popping back into virt while I waited for the others when I received a comm from Bridget. “Bad news, guys. I tracked down Skeev.”
“This is bad?”
“Sorry Bill, he left. Got to a doc and got patched up. He was gone by the time I got there.”
“Oh, for…” I sighed. But only in person, not over the intercom. “Okay, let's meet at our favorite pub.”
I locked the door to our apartment after leaving instructions with the roamer. The Growling Guppy was less than five minutes away. I got there first and grab the table. The barkeep glared at me as I parked my butt, probably remembering our parsimonious spending habits. I couldn't afford to stand out like that, so I signaled him for four brewskis and four meals du jour. His demeanor changed significantly, and he gave me a thumbs up, which strangely, meant exactly the same to Quinlans as it did to me. Some mannerisms just, by chance, correlated.
Within a couple of minutes, the others arrived. Garfield made a concerted effort to catch up with me on the beer, and Bridget got way ahead on the meal, which was a sort of pasta stuffed with fish. Because why not. I visualized myself being thoroughly sick of fish, long before this was over. I pushed mine toward her as she finished hers off.
“You know,” she said between mouthfuls, “one of the big advantages of being a replicant or running a Manny is never worrying about overeating.” She paused to savor a mouthful. “Although I used to love hot fudge sundaes. Then I ate a hundred in a row in virt because I could. I think I'm over them.”
“I’d do the same with these fish recipes,” I replied, “except I think I'm already there.”
Eventually we finished our meals and I signaled for another round of drinks.
“Careful Bob. We don't want to run out of money.” Bill gave me a glare. “We can't just import more it will.”
“We’re good for a while. I'd like to avoid the short-term problem. Over the longer term, I hope we'll have some kind of contact before we run out of cash. Failing that, we will have to fly some more in. Or get jobs.”
Bill grunted, but didn't reply.
I turned to Bridget.
