Chapter Twenty-One - Saloon Talk

The Centre Inn--which was technically more of a saloon--was as the name suggested, right in the middle of Mortarview. The building was long and tall, with a sort of C-shaped section at the back that had room to store someone’s mecha. I walked right up to the parking area, near one of those gantries, and moved backwards into it.

I was always worried about leaving Rusty out in places like these. It wouldn’t take much for some punk to try and rob me. Mortarview had decent guards, but I wasn’t keen on placing my trust in them. Still, unless I planned on sleeping in Rusty’s cabin...

“Alright,” I said as I started to flick things off. First thing in the morning I’d be bringing Rusty over to get some repairs done. But first, I needed to square things with Clin.

I closed my eyes and pulled Rusty’s control interface off and yanked the needle out of my neck with just the barest hiss. The world swam, but I held my lunch down.

The elf grabbed a box to the side and pulled himself up to his feet. “How much was it for a bath here?” he asked. The question was a nice distraction from the queasiness.

“A couple of silver will have them treating you like a king,” I said. “But before you get your bath, you and I need to settle.”

The elf nodded. “Of course. Is there a bank we could visit?”

I rubbed at my nose, then nodded. “Yeah. A block over. I’ll show you the way.” I tucked my mask into my duster’s pockets--long since returned to me from Clin--and wedged my hat on nice and snug.

Pushing Rusty’s cabin open, I stepped onto the edge while grabbing my rifle and slinging it over my shoulder. Some kid with a reddish sash pushed a set of wheeled stairs over to just before Rusty’s front, then cranked a pneumatic pump to make the steps rise until they were even with the cabin.

I stepped down and to the side, gesturing for Clin to move past. The elf did, lifting his robe to mid-shin as he climbed down the stairs. I shut Rusty’s cabin and followed the elf down.

“W-welcome to the Centre Saloon,” the kid said. Human, and no more than sixteen or so, to judge by the crack in his voice. “We have the best--”

I pulled a pair of coppers from a pocket and flicked them to the boy. “Those are for the steps,” I said. I pulled out a half-silver. “This is to keep an eye on my old mech here.”

“Oh, wow, but that’s my job, ma’am. I make sure nothing bad happens. But, but your generosity is appreciated.”

I nodded. “Damned right it is. If some fidiot comes over and steals my shit, you come and fetch me. If you steal my shit, I’ll kill you.” I pat him on the shoulder and followed after Clin who was waiting a bit ahead.

“You have a very endearing way about you,” he said.

“Death keeps folk honest. People are only honest twice in their life. When they’re screaming as a babe, and when they’re screaming their last. ‘Least, that’s what I’ve been told. Never did trust babies.”

Clin shook his head and adjusted his hat. He still had the gnomish officer’s cap on. I chose not to tell him that it made him look quite dumb.

Walking around the edge of the Centre saloon, Clin and I moved over to one of the city’s main thoroughfares. Mortarview’s homes were mostly sandstone and red brick, with the stores all having false fronts with big signs on them. General goods stores, weapon’s shops, the local Emu Express offices, and a little ways down, the Warm Union Transcontinental Bank.

We waited for a mecha to walk on by before crossing the street and into the back. “Got an account here?” I asked.

“The clan does,” Clin said.

I was expecting trouble. I used the banks here and in Galenook to store some coin. It was safer than carrying a safebox in Rusty, and the bank could transfer the cash over from one point to another in as little as a day or two, including bounty money.

Instead, as soon as the tellers got Clin’s name out of him, they were all smiles and scrapping. The elf managed to take a small loan out with his name alone. Five gold. The amount I’d make in a week’s work. Then he got a paper and signed a pair of identical cheques, one he kept, the other her gave to the teller who had an even fancier banker sign off on it.

“And here’s your pay,” Clin said as he gave me a bit of paper.

I looked the cheque over. “That’s a hundred gold over,” I said.

“You got me here in one piece, and you weren’t awful to work with. Consider the extra payment for some discretion.”

I nodded. I wasn’t one to speak about others much, but for a hundred gold, I could keep my mouth properly shut. “Thank ya,” I said.

I moved up to the teller next. He didn’t seem as pleased to see me as Clin, but he accepted the cheque well enough. “The gold will be transferred from the Royal Bank of Full Luna in Oberrun,” he said. “Even with an Emu Express sending the copy over and the permissions wired part-way back, it will take at least three weeks for the transfer to complete.”

“That’s fine,” I said. It was gold, literally, in the bank. “Could you pull a statement of my accounts? I’ve got one in Galenook.”

“That will take a day, maybe a little more. We got news of a storm coming.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow then,” I said.

Once I had an idea of how much I could spend, I’d be able to figure out the sorts of repairs I could get for Rusty. I wasn’t going to sit around for three weeks and piss my time away with booze and baths. Although...

“That’s it for me,” I said before tipping my hat to the teller.

Clin, surprisingly, followed me out.

“You goin’ somewhere?” I asked.

“The saloon,” he said. “I vaguely recall a free drink.”

I laughed. “Sure thing, elf boy.”

I felt a bit lighter as I led Clin back to the saloon. The job was done, I was in one of the safest cities around, and I had a whole lot of gold in my pockets, more or less. I’d have to wait for it to come in, but maybe I could pick up a few odd-jobs around Mortarview until then. They’d mentioned goblin problems at the gate, that might be something worth doing.

I planned out my next day. I’d sleep in late, to get rid of the hangover, then head over to one of the nearest mecha repair shops. After that... well, there was the bounty-office. I had that bounty on those goblins to hand in.

We arrived at the front of the saloon and pushed past the heavy steel doors and into the main floor. There were dozens of round tables, with chairs all around, a pair of stairs leading up to the floor above and a long bar at the end.

To the back of the room was a little stage with some ratty cushions on it where a oudist and a hurdy-gurdy player were plucking and taping away, their music carrying, but not so loud that it drowned out the clinks of utensils and the occasional bark of laughter.

The saloon wasn’t filled yet, half the tables were still cleared, and I saw one of the waitresses standing by the back, smoking next to an opened window. We’d arrived before the supper-time rush then.

“Juvenal!” I called out as I approached the bar.

A head poked out from behind the opening that hid the kitchens. A younger man, maybe in his early thirties, with a patchy beard and one eye that was browned as if he’d eaten a fist to the face. “Oh, god’s damn me,” he said. “If it isn’t Charlie.” The bartender came around, wiping his hands on his apron.

“Yup,” I said as I dropped onto a stool. “I’ll be here for a couple of days. Need a room, a bath, and something warm to eat. Also, what happened to your eye?”

“Some cocky fidiot said that I watered his beer down. Threw a mug at me,” Juvenal said. “Who’s the elf?”

“This is, ah, some elf I met. I owe him a drink.” I set three silver on the table, then a pair of coppers atop that.

“Fair enough. I’ll have one of the girls draw you up a bath. Feeling fancy, huh?”

“You can’t imagine,” I said. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know any scavengers around here that are trustworthy?”

“Might know a couple,” he said.

I grinned. “Good. Now pass me your menu and a cold beer and tell me about them. I’ve got some work lined up.”

***