Damned If You Don't
"You know how to use that thing?"
"Point and shoot, right?"
Chuck was a flop with weapons. He tried his hardest to stay away from trouble, so he never had to brandish a gun until now. He had seen the barrel of many a gun these past few weeks, many more than he had seen in his entire lifetime. Although he was hesitant, he knew this was for the best.
Chuck was allergic to dying.
"Do you carry any personal shields? Something small and easy to carry, maybe?"
"I've got just the thing!" The Tek smuggler pulled out a fancy briefcase and opened it up for Chuck. "Feast your eyes on these!"
"They look just like watches."
"To the naked eye, yes, but these are no ordinary watches. For the simple asking price of twelve hundred, you could be invisible to the naked eye."
"Invisible? Do I get a demo?"
"Does this look like the cosmetics counter at the mall?" The dealer was getting irritated. "There's an instructional vid chip in every box. You're more than welcome to it once our transaction is complete."
"These things come with a warranty?"
Chuck wasn't too bright, when it came to the arms dealing business, he was obviously a greenhorn. He quickly produced the creds and the dealer got to counting.
"Looks good on my end. Go ahead and load up on your purchases."
"Do you have a bag or something I can put this stuff in?"
"This isn't a grocery store. You put the gun in a holster, you put the watch on your wrist."
"Cloaking band."
"Right. You put the cloaking band on your wrist and..."
"I don't have a holster."
"What kind of guy who buys a gun, doesn't have a holster?"
"It's my first gun."
"Well, why didn't you say so? First timers always get a holster!"
Chuck reached for a nice leather one he could wear over his shoulders.
"That'll be fifty."
"But you said first timers always get a holster."
"Yeah, they get one. I didn't say they was free."
Chuck coughed up the creds. "Do you know a place close by, where a guy could hide out and grab a stiff one?" "Sure, sure. Two blocks up, one block over." He pointed his fingers in general directions and pushed Chuck along to get him walking. "Does the place have a name?" Chuck stammered as he began reluctantly walking away.
"Firewall. Just tell the guy at the door, I sent you."
Chuck turned back. "But I never got your name." "Macro! The names Micky Macro!" He then smiled and waved as he got in his van. "Which way again?" Chuck was still trying to figure out what "up" and "over" actually meant. The van drove away. "Shit."
