Jump Point magazine Issue 01.01 (n°01), December 2012 | Page 19

Tonya paused by the entry and savored this last moment of solitude,
then hit the button. The sound of people swept inside like a wave. She
took a second to acclimate, adjusted her bag and crossed into the
masses.

“I might be able to get you ten.” He said after a long pause.
“I would give you my unborn child for ten.”
“With all the unborn kids you owe me, you better get started,” he said.
Tonya smacked his arm.

Carl ran a small information network out of his bar, the Torchlight
Express. An old surveyor for a long-defunct Terraforming outfit, Carl
traded moving minerals for slinging booze and information. Tonya had
known him for years. As far as people went, Carl was a gem.

One of the prospectors drifted over to the bar with empty glasses. He
was young, one of those types who cultivated the dirty handsome look.
Probably spent an hour perfecting it before going out.
“Another round.” As Carl poured, the prospector looked at Tonya,
giving his looks a chance to work their magic. They failed. Carl set a
fresh batch of drinks down. The prospector paid and went back slightly
deterred.

The Express was dead. Tonya checked local time. It was evening, so
there was no real reason why it should be like this. A group of prospectors sat at a table in the corner, engaged in a hushed conversation.
Carl leaned against the bar, watching a game on the wallscreen. His
leathery fingers tapped out a beat to some song in his head. He brightened up when he saw Tonya.

“I think someone liked you,” Carl teased.
“Not my type.”

“Well, well, well, to what do we owe the honor, doctor?” he said with a
grin.