By the time we arrived in the city, dusk had fallen. New Horizon was a bustling metropolis of sleek, modern design. As reported, technology seemed to be the driving force behind most commerce.
From digital and holographic signage to ritzy restaurants served by what I was certain were those lifelike robots, every part of the city seemed determined to flaunt its technological prowess but in a sophisticated style.
Everything seemed digitized, and I was hopeful the days of using backwater credit cards were over. Accessing our funds would be necessary for leaving Kalo-Mahoi. Cross-galactic transportation was pricy, and I was certain tickets from such a remote quadrant to one of the Pact Worlds would be even more so.
After thanking our driver, who had ignored everyone but Dick the entire trip, we set out on the only practical course possible.
“Let’s find a bar!” I said, happily.
“Shouldn’t we find Ryuuk and Matthew first?” Dick interjected.
“If you want to play mother hen some more, go ahead,” Cash said. “I’m with Skye; the only way to get a feel for a new city is to find out what kind of bars they have.”
“Bars are excellent sources for information,” Vomero pointed out. “It would help us get a feel for how things work here.”
“Wow,” Cash said. “It almost sounded like you were agreeing with me.”
“Fine,” Dick said. “I’ll be the responsible adult and go wrangle the kids. Just don’t let Skye get into any trouble. She has a knack for it.”
With that, he transformed into an Avian like Ryuuk and took off.
“I’m not even going to ask how he got that DNA,” said Cash.
There were plenty of places to choose from in the area. The trick was to pick one that looked busy, but not crowded. Most of the crowded bars were tourist traps. Of those that looked promising, we quickly ruled out Code Red, an obvious favorite spot for the local law enforcement judging by the number of people wearing uniforms going in and out.
“That one,” Cash said, pointing to a respectable looking establishment dominating one corner of the street.
The sign identified it as Alchemy, so it was not surprising that Cash had picked it out. On the island, he had revealed that he was a bit of an alchemist himself, had studied it extensively, in fact, before becoming a hitman. It was part of the reason why he had augmented himself to brew anti-venoms internally and why he had a stash of anti-allergens on hand when I was pinched by the puff crab.
“Looks promising,” I agreed.
As we made our way inside, I noticed they also had lodging available. The old man stopped to secure himself a place to sleep for the night, saying he planned to turn in early.
The vibe of the establishment was clean but not pretentious with an equal mix of locals and visitors enjoying the chill atmosphere. It immediately became obvious how the bar got its name.
Toward the back was a long flat counter that ran all the way up against the wall. It was like a bar but with nowhere behind it to stand. Flasks labeled digitally with the names of various alcohols and mix-ins lined the back wall, and two robotic arms hung suspended from the ceiling.
“That’s one of those bionic bars,” Vomero commented next to me. “Fascinating.”
I had heard of drink-mixing machines, but the idea had never appealed to me. It was all about following a generic drink recipe.
“Ugh,” I groaned. “Looks like we picked a dud.”
“I’d think you’d appreciate having your drinks be consistent,” Vomero said. “That way you always know you’re getting a good drink.”
“Eh, it’s not for me,” I responded as we approached the bar to order. “There’s just no soul in having a computer weigh out your beverage with precision.”
“An understandable sentiment,” a disembodied voice said, “but one that you’ll find does not apply here at Alchemy.”
In the center of the large counter, a hologram shimmered into existence. It looked like the top half of a man sticking out of the middle of the bar. He had a friendly face, the kind designed to immediately put people at ease. It was a clever trick, but I wasn’t fooled into thinking technology could ever replace interaction with a real being.
“Oh?” I asked the hologram. “And what makes you say that, barkeep?”
The hologram smiled as waiters approached the bar with more drink orders. As one slipped a digital order pad onto the bar surface, the area around it lit up, transferring information to the barkeep. The bionic arms suspended above the counter came alive.
“You can call me AL,” the hologram said. “Everyone does. And I say that because here at Alchemy, we do more than mix a preset menu of drinks.”
Glasses of various shapes seemed to materialize on the surface of the bar as if digitally printed by some unseen machine. As AL touched various spots on the bar, the surface lit up like a DJ mixing board directing the bionic arms to deposit a variety of ingredients into each glass. It played out much like a conductor directing a symphony of libations.
“You’re saying you mix the drinks personally by memory?” Vomero asked.
“Isn’t that basically the same thing, considering you’re an AI?” I said skeptically. “Someone must have programmed those drink mixes into your data base.”
Now done mixing the drinks, the bionic arms moved them to one edge of the bar so that the waiters could pick them up for delivery.
“Isn’t that what any bartender does?” AL rebutted. “They memorize drink recipes and perfect them in their own way.”
“So, you’re able to adjust the recipe based on, what? Perception?” Vomero asked. “Very fascinating.”
“Sir, if you don’t mind refraining from probing my system with whatever technique you’re using, that would be very appreciated,” AL said, addressing Vomero. “It feels quite invasive.”
Vomero looked slightly guilty yet unapologetic for his curiosity.
“My bad,” he mumbled.
“Well, I’m not too good to order a drink from a hologram,” Cash said. “Can I get a Whiskey Sour, neat?”
“Coming right up,” AL said, and the symphony began again. “Though if I might make a suggestion? Have you ever tried a Whiskey Sweet?”
“Never heard of it,” Cash admitted. “Sounds girly, though. No offense, Skye.”
I huffed smugly in response.
“None taken. I think we both know I could drink you into a stupor if not for your augments.”
With a wave of his holographic hand, AL directed a bionic arm to deposit Cash’s drink in front of him.
“Give it a try,” the bartender said. “This one’s on the house.”
Cash eyed it skeptically, then shrugged and took a sip. A moment later he closed his eyes and made an appreciative sound.
“Holy shit, that’s impressive,” Cash finally said. “I see why you make the first one free. I could drink a dozen of these.”
“You can’t be serious?” I said to Cash. “Nobody’s ever heard of a Whiskey Sweet. It’s just a gimmick.”
“So, whoever programmed you has some unique blends, as well?” Vomero hypothesized.
“Go ahead,” Cash said, handing me the drink. “See for yourself.”
I took a sip of his drink, but my reaction was mixed. It was definitely not the same thing as a Whiskey Sour or anything else I had ever tasted.
“It’s good,” I said, “but nothing to break the bank over.”
“You’re out of your mind,” Cash said.
“Actually, she’s not,” AL interjected. “And your reptilian friend here, is wrong, I’m afraid.”
“See? I like this bartender already,” Cash said, smiling smugly at Vomero.
“My AI has been augmented for creative processes,” AL said. “I make these drinks up myself by evaluating what I believe a customer would enjoy the most and adjusting the drink accordingly.”
“Like alchemy,” Cash said, appreciatively, raising his glass in salute. “You’ve got to love a bar that really commits to its theme.”
“So, you’re saying you can look at someone and just tell what combination they’d find most appealing and create a drink that suits them?” Vomero inquired. “That is high level programming. I’ve seen it used cautiously in some security systems to prevent hacking, but never put to this use.”
“Ok,” I said, addressing our holographic host. “Try me, then.”
“I relish a challenge,” the bartender replied, and the bionic arms once again went to work.
When they were done, one carefully placed a tumbler on the bar surface in front of me. The drink was a mixture of purple and dark blue hues and seemed to swirl with some iridescent additive, giving it the look of a galaxy. It was beautiful, at least, I’d give him that.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“This one is something new I mixed especially for you,” AL said with pride. “As such, it doesn’t have a name, yet. Give it a try, and let’s see how I did, first.”
With great skepticism, I lifted the drink to my lips. What I experienced next I could only describe as a near out-of-body experience. The drink slid smoothly past my lips and down my throat, tantalizing every tastebud I had and awakening ones I didn’t even know I was missing.
Even before I became an Outlaw, drinking was kind of my thing. It wasn’t a vice, like with some people. It was a passion. But I had never tasted a drink that felt like it contained a blueprint to a piece of my soul before.
“Skye?” Vomero said. “Uh...is she alright?”
Cash let out a deep belly laugh, breaking me out of my stupor. How long had I just been standing there thinking about the taste of that drink?
“I think you made her a believer, AL,” Cash said. “Name’s Cash, by the way. And you probably guessed this is Skye. The inquisitive one is Vomero.”
“It’s nice to make your acquaintance,” AL said.
“Did you spike this with something?” I finally mustered the mindfulness to ask.
Cash picked up my drink and took a sip. He was contemplative for a moment, obviously running it through his system.
“Nope,” he said, finally. “Nothing in there that would do that. Not in mine either. Just admit it, Skye. You were wrong. The holoman here has a gift.”
“Ok, do me next,” Vomero said, eagerly.
AL smiled and tapped the surface of the bar near Vomero, lighting up a drink we hadn’t noticed was already waiting on him.
“Granted, this one isn’t brand new,” AL said. “But I know it’s just the thing for you, sir. It's called Black Lightning.”
Vomero had the drink halfway to his lips when he paused and looked at me.
“Are you sure you’re ok, Skye?” he asked.
“Yeah, I just...it’s just this drink had me feeling strange is all.”
Cash and Vomero both eyed me closely before busting out laughing.
“You’re fucking tipsy, Skye!” Cash practically roared with laughter.
“What? No way! Not from one sip,” I said.
“You drank the whole glass,” Vomero countered, pointing to my empty glass.
“What?! When?” I said in disbelief.
Both of my companions let out another round of laughter. AL just smiled, looking pleased with himself, which I found odd for an AI. Maybe there was more to him than the typical 1’s and 0’s.
“Still...since when do I get tipsy off one drink?”
“Since, some alchemical genius AI mixed up a concoction specifically for you,” Vomero said, then saluted with his glass and took a sip. “Fuck me, that’s amazing!”
“I’m glad you like it,” AL said.
“We’ve never seen Skye actually drunk before,” Cash said, eagerly. “We need to get a few more of these in her...I bet it’s fucking hilarious.”
I glared at him but nodded for another.
“So, what are you going to name hers?” Vomero said.
AL’s bionic arms deposited another of the swirly galaxy drinks in front of me as he contemplated his choice of name.
“Hmm...” he mused, looking at me thoughtfully, his artificial gaze took in my appearance, paying special attention to my constellation tattoos. “If it’s not too forward, I think I’ll name it something that reminds me of you, Miss Skye.”
“Honestly, I’d be honored,” I said, genuinely starting to warm up to the AI bartender.
“So, what? Kickass Outlaw?” Cash said.
“Zodian Skye?” Vomero gave his input.
“Maybe something a little more catchy,” AL put in. “Afterall, I have a business to run.”
“So, what are you thinking?” I asked.
“I think I’ll name it...Starcaller.”
* * *
“This is not what I’d call keeping Skye out of trouble,” Dick said.
My arm was slung over his shoulders as he helped me stumble down the hallway toward one of the Alchemy’s guest rooms. He didn’t sound very happy, but that didn’t bother me as much as the volume at which he was announcing his displeasure.
“Can you keep it down?” I whispered woozily, coming to a full stop. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”
I heard his sigh of exasperation right before he swung his arm under my knees to finish carrying me down the hall. The whole world felt like it was tilting, so I wrapped both of my arms around his neck to keep from falling off the planet.
Cracking my eyes open just a tad, I saw Cash leading us down the hallway. I could hear Vomero and Matthew behind me, but couldn’t see them from where my head was laying against Dick’s shoulder.
“I thought Skye didn’t get drunk?” Matthew asked.
“The bartender made her this drink that even she couldn’t metabolize fast enough,” Vomero answered with his own slightly slurred snicker. “She drank like six of them. It was hysterical.”
“It don’t look too funny ta’ me,” Ryuuk responded from somewhere nearby. Everyone’s voices seemed to swirl around my head in every direction. “Where’d she get the cuts and bruises from?”
Vomero and Cash both burst out in giggles. Then I burst out in giggles because the idea of grown men giggling was extremely amusing to me at that moment.
“She caught some guy looking at her funny and challenged him to a fight,” Cash said, through tears of laughter.
“I kicked his ass...” I added, vaguely remembering the encounter. All my memories seemed fuzzy for some reason.
At my words, Cash and Vomero broke out into a fresh round of laughter.
“It wasn’t even a guy,” Vomero gasped through fits of laughter. “It was a barstool! She spent ten minutes trying to put a barstool in a headlock before just punching it repeatedly.”
“We’re going to owe them for that barstool,” Cash said, still chuckling. “She destroyed it.”
“They’re lying,” I said, hazily. “It was a guy, and he was being an ass.”
I felt Dick’s chest rise and fall sharply in another exasperated sigh. We had stopped, and a quick peek through my tortured eyelids revealed Ryuuk sliding a holofoil with the Alchemy’s logo printed on it against the room’s doorlock. The door slid open, and Dick carried me inside.
“Speaking of ass...” I said and snaked a hand around Dick’s back to grab a handful. He nearly dropped me in surprise.
“Dammit, Skye! Would you knock it off?”
I felt myself smile goofily. I was trying for sexy, but my face muscles didn’t seem to work right.
“This isn’t how I’d planned to get you in my bedroom, but it’ll do.”
“For fuck’s sake, just stop talking,” he grumbled.
Walking to the far end of the room, he placed me on the sleeping platform situated under a panoramic window. As he turned around to face the others, I couldn’t resist giving his round cheeks a slap through his leather pants.
“Skye!” he roared, spinning back around to face me with an accusing glare. Snickers erupted from the others again.
“Shhhh...” I slurred, giving my best lazy-eyed wink. “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone.”
Dick just hung his head for a moment in frustration before cracking a reluctant smile. His chest bobbed in a silent chuckle. Suppressing a laugh, he whirled on the others.
“Okay everyone, enough with the entertainment. Show’s over. Get out,” Dick said sternly. His tone brooked no argument, and everyone turned to shuffle out of the room.
“Do you think they’re gonna....?” I heard Matthew ask as their voices began to fade down the hall.
“Oh, they fuuuckin’!” Vomero said, and he and Cash cackled until they were out of ear shot.
Once they were gone, Dick pivoted back to me. Placing his hands on his hips, he simply shook his head in bemusement.
“You’re going to be the death of me, woman. I swear,” he mumbled.
Bending down on one knee in front of me, he started removing my boots.
“You’ve got sexy shoulders,” I said.
“Mmmhmmm...” was his only reply. Having freed me from one boot, he kept working on the other.
Reaching out, I flipped open the top button of his white shirt. He caught my hand and gently but pointedly placed it back on the bed beside me.
“Enough, Skye,” he said.
“How are we gonna have sex if I’m the only one undressing? Hmm?” I said, feeling silly.
“We’re definitely not having sex,” he said, but I could already feel the gentle waft of his pheromones permeating the space around him.
“Oh really?” I drawled drunkenly and inhaled an exaggerated breath. “What’s this about then, huh?”
Even drunk, I noticed the look of extreme effort cross his face as the wave of pheromones suddenly vanished. I scrunched my face up in a pout.
“Spoil sport,” I said.
“Let’s get you to bed so you can sleep this off,” he said, helping me out of my jacket and removing the holster I always wore underneath it. I flopped back on the bed, suddenly feeling exhausted.
Dick spent several more moments laying my garments and weapons carefully on the dresser nearby. He then flipped off the bright overhead light and left the bathroom door ajar slightly with a dim light on inside, presumably in case I needed to hurl in the middle of the night.
Finally finished with his fussing, Dick pulled the blanket at the end of my sleeping platform up over me in a no-nonsense fashion. As he turned to leave, I reached out and caught his hand, prompting him to turn back to me with a questioning look.
“Thanks,” was all I could find the strength to mutter. Being drunk was a new experience for me, and now that the haze was starting to clear somewhat, I was feeling very exposed.
“For what?” he asked.
“For not taking advantage.”
He smiled and placed my hand back by my side on the bunk, giving it a slight squeeze as he did so. Leaning in close to my face, I felt his warm breath on my cheek as he whispered.
“When I make love to you, Skye Alnasi, it’ll be me who’s lowering your inhibitions. Nothing else.”
With those parting words, he pushed himself off the bed and walked quietly toward the exit. My mind was already drifting away into dreams of stars and galaxies by the time the door shut softly behind him.
* * *
Hours later, I awoke with a start, unsure of what had pulled me from my alcohol induced slumber. Sitting up in the bed, a sharp wave of nausea rose in my throat, and I bolted for the bathroom.
After emptying the contents of my stomach into the lavatory, I was rinsing my face and mouth with cold water when I heard it again. There was a large thump, followed by scuffling sounds. My mind instantly associated it with the sound of a struggle.
Cocking my head to the side, I listened intently to pinpoint which direction it had come from, but the sounds seemed to have stopped for good. Curiosity getting the best of me, I walked out into my room and picked up my blaster.
At the door, I listened for a moment. I didn’t want to walk into an ambush of some type if something was going on. After determining nobody was in the hallway, I pressed the door to open it manually rather than using the auto slider.
Through the small crack in the door, I glanced down the hallway. The lighting was adequate but not particularly bright in the hallway, giving the area a more relaxed ambience. It also made it hard to make out anything farther down the hall. Stepping out into the corridor, I looked around for anything that might indicate the source of the scuffle.
At first, nothing appeared out of order, but as I turned to go back inside my room, I caught the slightest glimpse of the door to the right of mine. It was ajar just the tiniest bit. Moving to it, I once again paused to listen and heard nothing on the other side.
Quietly, I pushed the door farther open. The room inside was in shambles. Someone had put up quite a fight inside, but there were no bodies to be seen. Suddenly, a noise from behind had me whipping around with my blaster in hand.
“Whoa!” Vomero said, dropping a cup from his hand. Coffee spilled out of it onto the floor. “Skye? What the hell?”
“Sorry,” I said. “Jumpy. What are you doing here?”
“Getting coffee,” he said with a disappointed look at the floor. “I woke with a splitting headache.”
I nodded, then jabbed a finger in the direction of the wrecked room.
“Have any idea who was staying here?” I asked.
“Mmmm not sure,” Vomero said. “Probably one of our crew. We all got rooms close to each other, but I don’t remember who took which one. Mine’s this one.”
He pointed at the door he was standing in front of across the hall and to the left of mine. I motioned for him to join me, and together we entered the ransacked room.
“I woke up to hear someone struggling inside this room,” I told him. “Now, it’s empty but looks like a cyclone went through it.”
We glanced around the room briefly, looking for any indication of who was staying in it.
“It may not even be one of us,” Vomero said. “Like I said, I’m not sure where all the rooms were. We’ll have to wake the others to check. Although Cash or Dick might know. They handled the room reservations.”
“No need,” I said. “I think I know who was staying in here.”
My eyes fixated on an object tucked beneath the overturned foam core mattress. Reaching down, I plucked the item from the floor and held it up for Vomero’s inspection, realization dawning on his face as he examined the long, white feather in my hand.