The synthetic alcohol swirled in the glass, making a whirlpool in time with the movement of his wrist. Ian stared into the highball glass, thinking it reminded him of an icon derezzing, compiling down into component 1’s and 0’s until oblivion swallowed it up. He opened his mouth to say something, to someone, someone not in the bar; and it escaped him as easily as it had come to him. It happened more often these days. The feeling he had forgotten to cross of some item on a mental to do list.
He looked up to see Bob slugging some hot pink frozen drink to Skrit Skrat. He smiled despite himself. Only she’d be caught drinking that in a hole in the wall like this. She always did have a way of brightening his day, even if he was wondering where the next credits would come from. It’s a shame some people can’t look past the facade, Ian thought. Skrit Skrat was a feline hybrid, her genetic makeup (or perhaps her parents?) had been augmented with feline genomes. Sure, she got the pointy ears, and the fur; which would have appealled to a whole clientele if she wanted to go that route, but it also gave her reflexes that put even his to shame. Yet, she wasted them on a wage slave job for Mirror Media. Yup, their little 140 lbs of muscle was a media darling by day. Ian couldn’t fathom how she put up with it. She must slum it with us just to broke the monotony, Ian thought. She gazed off past Bob’s shoulder, intent on some hyper reality display through her TAP.
Bob, on the other hand, was almost impossible to notice. Average build, average height, brown hair, a face built for crowds. Unlike Skrit, he didn’t need genejack treatments to change his look for anonymity’s sake. Hell, most people didn’t give Bob a second look, unless they needed another drink. Bob served drinks at John D. McGurk’s. Typical Irish pub, wooden booths, plenty of alcohol, plenty of music, and plenty of drunks. A great place to celebrate a good score, or wait for news on the next one.
“Yup, yup. See ya then!” Skrit smiled from ear to ear as her eyes refocused on her two companions. “Got a job. Tomorrow morning, Metro station in Clayton, third stop.”