really was, tried to get him to be anywhere else but Manhattan, but the memories didn't care where he was standing.
Teek's was neutral ground, a place that didn't connect with anything on either end of the scale. Chase came there for the atmosphere, the sixty-four color women, and Teek.
"Well, jack me into a light socket, his holiness is among the blasphemous," came Teek's voice suddenly.
Chase had been heading toward the bar, and turned as the owner of the voice approached, hands thrust into the pockets of his Indian-weave cardigan, a wide smile on his face. Teek was moving away from a group of sharp-suited Japacorp types who seemed somewhat displeased at the interruption. Chase felt no pity for them.
"Damn right, and I've got a pocket full of absolutions hot off the presses. Figured you might be needing a couple by now."
Chase let Teek pass, then followed him to the bar. He seemed shorter, maybe more stooped, maybe a little more shuffling. Things had happened. Chase suddenly thought that maybe he should have made some calls first.
"So," said Teek as he stepped up behind the polished, genuine mahogany bar and began to pull out glasses and bottles. The usual bartender, a moderately cute girl named Shawna, gave Chase a quick wave from the other end of the bar. He returned it with a smile. Teek rarely worked the bar anymore, but when he did the staff knew to give him wide berth. "That's quite a tan you've got there."
"Been doing some business under the sun," said Chase. "Putting my language talents to good use."
Teek swept the room with his gaze, let it light briefly on a couple of patrons, then glanced back at Chase. "Just talking? That seems so unlike you."
Chase laughed. "Hey, amigo , I was slow and old ten years ago. I've got tech in me older than the geniuses who are designing the latest stuff." He grinned. "I'll tell ya, it's certainly a pleasure to know that I can spend my golden years working off the bennies of my reputation."
"Golden years, huh? You're barely middle-aged."
Chase laughed ruefully. "If I were still working they'd be referring to me as 'venerable' or some other drek." He shook his head. "Not for me. I walked while I could."
Teek smiled. "How long you in town this time?"
Chase gave a careless shrug in reply, watching Teek mix up a couple of drinks, their usuals. He was surprised to see the older man's Special Forces ring back in its old place on his right hand. Sometimes he wore it, but more often he did not. Chase knew the feeling, but his own ring had been sitting at the bottom of the Black Sea for twenty years. "There's nothing in the works right now, plus I seem in dire need of a rest."
Teek's eyebrow raised. "Oh?" Half a lemon liquefied in his hands and splashed into one of the glasses.
"I'm not in Terminal cinco minutos when I almost get thrashed by a pair of thrill gals. The blonde was a pro, but I think the brunette was new."
Teek's eyebrow dropped and a grin began. "A pair, eh? Blonde and brunette? Blonde's got a light purple undertint and favors short skirts, usually black, Aztlan style? Brunette's close-cropped, Euro-style, likes red, sometimes black too?"
"You know them?"
Teek shrugged. "Semi-professionally only. A few months back they used to come in here and work some of the rear booths. When I came back I asked them to stop. Didn't want the wire." He finished mixing Chase's drink and slid it over.
"I'm sorry," Chase said after a moment.
Teek looked full at him, maybe for the first time since the other man had arrived. "You hadn't heard? I just assumed you had."
"No, I hadn't. When was it?"
"Four months ago. I took a month off, wandered around a bit to work out the cold. It wasn't unexpected. The drugs finally stopped helping, and he was dead within days. Just like the doctors said."
"If I'd known, I'd have come back for the services. Marko was a good man. I'll miss him."
Teek nodded. "I know, but there was no service, really. I was afraid of who'd come. Too many old
Teek's was neutral ground, a place that didn't connect with anything on either end of the scale. Chase came there for the atmosphere, the sixty-four color women, and Teek.
"Well, jack me into a light socket, his holiness is among the blasphemous," came Teek's voice suddenly.
Chase had been heading toward the bar, and turned as the owner of the voice approached, hands thrust into the pockets of his Indian-weave cardigan, a wide smile on his face. Teek was moving away from a group of sharp-suited Japacorp types who seemed somewhat displeased at the interruption. Chase felt no pity for them.
"Damn right, and I've got a pocket full of absolutions hot off the presses. Figured you might be needing a couple by now."
Chase let Teek pass, then followed him to the bar. He seemed shorter, maybe more stooped, maybe a little more shuffling. Things had happened. Chase suddenly thought that maybe he should have made some calls first.
"So," said Teek as he stepped up behind the polished, genuine mahogany bar and began to pull out glasses and bottles. The usual bartender, a moderately cute girl named Shawna, gave Chase a quick wave from the other end of the bar. He returned it with a smile. Teek rarely worked the bar anymore, but when he did the staff knew to give him wide berth. "That's quite a tan you've got there."
"Been doing some business under the sun," said Chase. "Putting my language talents to good use."
Teek swept the room with his gaze, let it light briefly on a couple of patrons, then glanced back at Chase. "Just talking? That seems so unlike you."
Chase laughed. "Hey, amigo , I was slow and old ten years ago. I've got tech in me older than the geniuses who are designing the latest stuff." He grinned. "I'll tell ya, it's certainly a pleasure to know that I can spend my golden years working off the bennies of my reputation."
"Golden years, huh? You're barely middle-aged."
Chase laughed ruefully. "If I were still working they'd be referring to me as 'venerable' or some other drek." He shook his head. "Not for me. I walked while I could."
Teek smiled. "How long you in town this time?"
Chase gave a careless shrug in reply, watching Teek mix up a couple of drinks, their usuals. He was surprised to see the older man's Special Forces ring back in its old place on his right hand. Sometimes he wore it, but more often he did not. Chase knew the feeling, but his own ring had been sitting at the bottom of the Black Sea for twenty years. "There's nothing in the works right now, plus I seem in dire need of a rest."
Teek's eyebrow raised. "Oh?" Half a lemon liquefied in his hands and splashed into one of the glasses.
"I'm not in Terminal cinco minutos when I almost get thrashed by a pair of thrill gals. The blonde was a pro, but I think the brunette was new."
Teek's eyebrow dropped and a grin began. "A pair, eh? Blonde and brunette? Blonde's got a light purple undertint and favors short skirts, usually black, Aztlan style? Brunette's close-cropped, Euro-style, likes red, sometimes black too?"
"You know them?"
Teek shrugged. "Semi-professionally only. A few months back they used to come in here and work some of the rear booths. When I came back I asked them to stop. Didn't want the wire." He finished mixing Chase's drink and slid it over.
"I'm sorry," Chase said after a moment.
Teek looked full at him, maybe for the first time since the other man had arrived. "You hadn't heard? I just assumed you had."
"No, I hadn't. When was it?"
"Four months ago. I took a month off, wandered around a bit to work out the cold. It wasn't unexpected. The drugs finally stopped helping, and he was dead within days. Just like the doctors said."
"If I'd known, I'd have come back for the services. Marko was a good man. I'll miss him."
Teek nodded. "I know, but there was no service, really. I was afraid of who'd come. Too many old
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