“Ah, I don’t worry about that anymore,” he lied.
“Shit, Paulo, why do you have to dampen the night with some of that crap. I just want to stare at some ladies I’ll never sleep with, get incredibly drunk, fail miserably while asking one of them to dance and finally go home and pass out,” Ing replied. “Is that too much to freaking ask?”
“Come on Paulo, you know just as well as I do those stories are bull shit and are supposed to keep us out of places like this,” Spurious said.
Paulo’s grin faded and his aged face turned stern. He rested his mug on the table and looked away from the crowd, staring at his two friends. “Remember our conversation about the new type of Biomass the other day? When I told you that not everything is as it may seem… Well, there is much you two young men don’t know. Much I haven’t told you.” Paulo turned and quickly scanned the crowd to make sure no one was listening.
“Truth is, when I was written up at work, it wasn’t just because I failed to turn off my lights a few times. My supervisor accused me of spreading negative rhetoric about the State.”
Ing raised an eyebrow. “What kind of rhetoric?”
“The type that gets you locked up. Luckily, the case never made it to the Knights. My supervisor dropped it when his boss got involved. It was blackmail. He wanted the position I had been hired for. So he accused me of spreading lies about the State. The truth, however, is more complicated. I had been discussing many theories about the State with another co-worker. This man told me he was getting info from the TDU. He disappeared a couple months ago.” Paulo paused and took a short swig from his mug.
“I’d be locked up for telling you both, but I don’t care anymore. I have nothing to lose. The State isn’t what it’s cracked up to be, boys. This life as a State worker, it’s all a facade. We’re told lies to hide what is really going on. Do you really think there aren’t survivors in the Wastelands, or in the skeletons of what used to be cities?”
Ing raised his hand to stop Paulo before he could go on any further. “What you’re saying is bordering on treason. You do realize this, right?”
“And I don’t care, Ing. I’m telling you this because my life is over anyways.”
“Let him talk,” Spurious barked. Ing looked over at his normally quiet friend and quickly nodded.
“Go on Paulo. I’m listening,” Spurious said.
“I know there are survivors because I have heard the transmissions. I’ve heard the broadcasts, people on the two-way channels that are asking for help,” Paulo exclaimed.
“Try and keep it down a bit,” Spurious interrupted. “We don’t know who is listening.”
“Radio transmissions? Come on, that’s a bunch of shit. How do you know this?” Ing asked.
“I know because I have a two-way radio. The co-worker gave it to me before he disappeared. He was getting paranoid and said he needed a safe place to keep it, so I stashed it under my mattress in a metal box that blocks signals from being traced. And at night, I take it into my bathroom, where my AI can’t hear the transmissions.”
Ing slammed his mug down on the wooden surface of the table, which was already covered in empty glasses. “Man, this is ludicrous. You’re going to end up in prison, or worse, dead! And I could end up there with you, just for listening. Forget this. I’m finding myself a female, and will pretend I never heard this conversation.”
Paulo stood up to stop Ing as he made his way into the crowd.
“Let him go. Let’s move to a leather booth. Over there,” Spurious pointed.
Reluctantly, Paulo obliged and they moved across the room to a booth in the corner. It wasn’t long before Spurious realized he had all but forgotten the message. He sat down in the plush booth, sinking deeper into the comfort of the aged leather. His curiosity was getting the best of him tonight; first the message, and now Paulo’s stories. After living with such a monotonous routine, it was finally good to have some stimulation, even if there was a risk.
“What type of transmissions are you hearing?” Spurious asked.
Paulo looked down at his drink and picked at the wooden table nervously. “Perhaps Ing is right. Perhaps I should not bring you two into this.”
“Ing just doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
“That maybe so, but it’s selfish of me to put you two at risk. You don’t know what the State is capable of. What the Knights are capable of.” Paulo paused and picked at the table some more, before his drunken eyes turned back to Spurious. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you two.”
“It’s going to be all right, you know that, Paulo?” Spurious said, reaching over and patting his friend on the back.
Paulo smiled, revealing a set of perfectly aligned white teeth. “No it won’t. My life is over. I have nothing left to look forward to, but you…You have so much!”
Spurious raised his glass to his mouth, gulping down another swig of the sweet nectar. “You’re right. I do have a lot to look forward to. Many years of working for the State,” he said laughing.
“I guess I will drink to that,” Paulo chuckled, polishing off the last of his pint.
As the night wore on and the crowd began to dissipate, Spurious caught a side view of a young woman dancing across the wooden floor. His eyes followed her, watching her graceful moves. She swung her arms through the air, gently tossing her long dark hair up and around her face. When the young woman smiled he instantly recognized her. It was Lana.
Shocked into motion, Spurious slid out of his booth, patting Paulo on the back once more, and placing his half-full mug on the table. He pushed through the mob of customers, thrusting his way through them before losing sight of her at the entrance of The Cave.
For a split second, he saw Ing out of the corner of his eye, and he paused to watch his friend flirt with a woman wearing bright red lipstick. A smile curled across his face before he continued on.
The Cave was dim, save for a few candles burning violently, their white wax bleeding down the stone walls. The music was piercingly loud, the echo of bass pounding in his ears. He rested his back against the rough edge of stone, scanning the room for Lana and watching intoxicated patrons grinding against one another. His eyes stopped on a pair of women kissing in the corner, nothing but the shadows covering his eyes.
And then he saw her, dancing in the middle of the room with two of her friends. He froze, watching her as she threw her hands into the air, laughing, while her friends danced around her. He smiled as one of her friends softly bumped into her, throwing her off balance.
A short break in the music revealed the sound of his heart beating rapidly, the pulse pounding in his skull. He wiped a bead of sweat off his flushed face and brushed his hair back into place before making his way towards her.
With a half smile, he grabbed her softly by the wrist. She paused, turning as her eyes locked with his. Instantly she recognized him. “Spurious, it’s so good to see you!” she yelled. “I didn’t think you would come.”
“Come?” he asked, a puzzled look on his clearly intoxicated face. “Wait, you sent me that message at work?”
Lana smiled playfully. “I did, but for now, let’s dance,” she yelled, grabbing him by his hand and pulling him further out on the dance floor.
“It’s so good to see you. I missed you at work this week. Where have you been?” he asked, shouting over the loud music.
He couldn’t stop staring at her. For a moment everything seemed to slow to a stop. The music went silent and the room emptied; in his mind it was just the two of them, shrouded in darkness. It was then he knew that she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. “Come on, dance, Spurious!” she yelled, pulling him back into reality and leading him into the crowd. She wrapped her arms around his neck and began to move her breasts against his body. Lana kissed him softly on his cheek and looked at him. “I can’t go back there, Spurious, I just can’t,” she said, in his ear. Spurious looked at her, recognizing the fear in her face.