With a final blink, the silver orb darted away from them and left the restaurant’s newest patrons to find seats.
The dining room was studded with round tables surrounded by curving booths draped in white fabric. The backs of the booths rose five feet higher than the tables, forming individual pockets of privacy. “Looks like we won’t be hearing much drunken gossip from those tables.”
“Nah.” Persh’al waved her off. “We’ll sit. Gorge ourselves on the kind of meal I haven’t had in a few centuries, and then we’ll start listening in. This is just the front room, kid. The back room is where all the action happens.”
He slid off his pack beside an empty circular booth and shoved it toward the center before sliding in after it. Cheyenne did the same, slipping quickly onto the smooth seat of a woven material that felt like fur, and frowned. “By action, you mean what?”
“Relax. We won’t be fighting anybody. To tell you the truth, I’d get my ass kicked in two seconds without an activator. Of course, I’ve had way more practice fighting with bare magic than any of these yuppies, but nobody here would be caught dead without their tech. So no, we play it safe, we listen, do some schmoozing, see what we can dig up. Don’t make any waves, and don’t get caught with your pants down. And try to have fun while you’re at it, huh? You look like L’zar when he gets woken up from a nap.”
She sat back in the booth and shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
Persh’al shrugged and scanned the clear surface of the metal table, projecting an illusion of glass.
“I did notice one thing that might be important.”
He looked at her quickly and raised his eyebrows. “Already? I haven’t even ordered yet.”
Ignoring his attempt at a joke, Cheyenne leaned toward him over the table and glanced through the opening in the booth. “That floating hostess that wanted to take our stuff. I stared right at it, and the activator didn’t pull up anything.”
Persh’al frowned. “Doesn’t work that way. Every piece of tech in this city has a signature.”
“Not that piece.”
“You sure you didn’t just tone down the images? Or maybe you’re getting used to activator eyes and don’t remember seeing something.”
Cheyenne stared at him and raised her eyebrows. “I’ve been paying attention, Persh’al. That round little robot and its blinking eye didn’t bring up a single line of code. Not even a name.”
“Shit.” The troll narrowed his orange eyes and gazed through the opening in the booth. A troll in something like a ballgown passed their table, giggling delicately into her hand as a magical with red-and-black mottled skin and a dozen tiny horns protruding from his skull muttered some stuck-up joke. Then Persh’al glanced quickly at the ceiling and sat back against the booth. “Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty important. Sounds like there’s a lot more going on here than the assholes in charge want anyone to see.”
“So, we’re gonna go after that orb and pick it apart, right?”
“Nope.” Summoning a pale green light at the tip of his finger, Persh’al stroked the glass-looking tabletop, which lit up with a long list of menu items in a soft yellow. “We’re gonna eat. Then I’m gonna play nice and get some conversation going. You’re gonna keep an eye out for more tech you should be able to read like an open book but can’t.”
“Great,” Cheyenne muttered and dropped her gaze to the table.
“See anything that gets your mouth watering?”
She scanned the menu items illuminated in front of her and cocked her head. “I can read the words, but they mean nothing to me.”
“All right, how ‘bout this? You just sit back, look like you’re enjoying yourself, and I’ll order for both of us. You’ll love it.” Persh’al busied himself with the interactive menu, and Cheyenne stared through the booth’s opening.
The floating metal orb, or maybe a different one, slowly passed their table, also lacking any signature. Kinda hard to enjoy a weird meal when we have no idea what’s going on.
Chapter Forty-Four
“I’ve never been more disappointed.” Persh’al slipped five blue plastic cards from his money case and set them on the table. The cards and table flashed together, then his payment disappeared. “This was a total joke, man. Coughing up that much veréle for a tiny little pile of roasted angarfat and a few crumbs of crushed grylyf for what? Presentation? They need to change the name of that dish to Most Expensive Snack Ever That Doesn’t Even Taste Like Grylyf.”
Cheyenne aimed the two-pronged fork at the tower of mint-green jelly on the side of her plate and gave it another tentative poke. Hundreds of tiny bubbles appeared on the surface when the jelly wobbled and opened one at a time to reveal milky-white eyes that stared back at her. “This stuff has eyes.”
“Well, yeah. That’s what gives it the crunch. You’re not gonna eat it?”
She cocked her head and set the fork down on the plate. “I’m not into being stared at by my food.”
“Huh. Then can I have it?”
Cheyenne slid the plate across the table toward him, and the troll grinned. She couldn’t watch him devour the ogling jelly in three huge bites, then the fork clattered to the plate, and Persh’al took a long gulp of the slightly sweetened complimentary water.
“Okay. That’s a little better. You liked the rest of it, though, right?”
“The bread that kept growing back until I finally shoved the whole thing in my mouth?” She scrunched her nose and shook her head. “Feels like it’s still growing in my stomach.”
“But it tasted good. And it’ll stick with you for the rest of the day, won’t it?” He chuckled and scooted out of the booth, lugging his pack behind him. “Oh, yeah. I can operate on a half-full tank.
