From: atmpas@vax.oxford.ac.uk
Newsgroups: alt.cyberpunk.chatsubo
Subject: The Inverse Square Law : Six
Date: 25 Aug 92 16:57:17 GMT
Organization: Oxford University VAX 6620


			 The Inverse Square Law : Six
			 ============================

	Outside the sun shone high over Warsaw, driving the people in from the
streets.  The heat was enough to soften the asphalt on the road, and even under
the pavement overhang, Mark's allcover got hot and sticky within minutes.  Adam
was as cool as ever, relying on goggles, sunblock and his own half-indian skin
to protect him from the sun.  The white suit made him shine like an angel.

	They were walking on the back streets, to keep Mark as far away from 
people as possible.  The buildings all around were still full, of course.  
Hungry people eating, tired people sleeping, nervous people turning and turning
on the beds.  All the people were hot, and most of them were unhappy.

	The only person they saw in the crowded streets was an old man, walking
his dog with difficulty from under an off-white allcover.  The dog kept licking 
the white dab of sunblock from its nose, and every time the owner would stop and
berate it in polish, adjusting its goggles and readministering the cream.

	Adam listened for a moment before slipping himself into a humorous 
mood.

	'He should be glad.  It's panting so much, it would burn its tongue
if it didn't keep licking the stuff from its nose.'

	'He ought to buy the poor thing a proper mask if he's going to walk it
at this time of day.'

	They were silent for a few more minutes while the spectacle stopped and
started its way down the street and round the blackened stone corner.

	'Would you like to try a bar, Mark?  It would be a bit cooler than the
streets.'

	'They'd just throw us out again.  It isn't worth it.'

	The I'm-going-to-have-some-fun grin came back to Mark with a blaze of
well-rehearsed schadenfreude.  Adam was playing to the gallery for him.

	'If they try it, I'll just have to remind them who they're dealing 
with.'

			************************

	The bar was a small, run down joint.  With the doors closed against the
heat and the shutters down, it seemed shut, except for the fans that whined and
groaned inside.  Adam thrust the door open and half-skipped inside. Mark
followed more cautiously. 

	The room was almost empty.  The barkeep and an old man were playing 
chess on the bar, with a few coins and saltshakers on the board instead of
pieces.  On the far side of the room, by a small table under the fans, a couple
in their thirties had turned instantly to the door.  A wave of surprise rolled
across the room and subsided into animosity and prickling fear.  Mark felt the
familiar chill run through him and made for a chair by the door, away from the
people.

	Adam put a spring in the steps that took him over to the chess game and
slapped his arm down on the bar.  The barkeep slowly spat on a filthy rag and
polished a glass.  'Closed,' he said, in a black treacle voice.

	Adam didn't reply.  He paused for a moment, smiled, and pulled away
from the bar.  His elbow caught a couple of empty coffee cups and sent them
spiralling down towards the floor.  Brown drops span in the air.  The rest of
the room stopped silently as the cups plunged and a flurry of white movement
turned by the bar. 

	A teaspoon crashed against the foot rest under the bar.  Adam was
standing, holding a cup and saucer in each hand, and smiling at the barman. 
A dark stain was just starting to spread across the bluish whiteness of his
suit.

	'Oops.  Clumsy of me.  I'll have to be careful or I'll break something.
We'll have ... two coffees, thank you.' 

	The bar was alive with the barman's fury.  Mark felt it from the
shelter of a Spanish evening, and expected the move before it came.  The man's
right hand made a dive for something under the bar.  In a flood of fear and 
surprise, he found himself holding a cup.  Adam's right hand slipped fluidly
out of his jacket and pressed a few coins on to the bar with a loud crack.

	'Be careful!  You almost broke it!'

			************************  

	Apart from the fans, the bar was silent as they drank.  The other
customers had left, leaving the barman to ostentatiously polish the bar
and eye them nervously.  Adam watched him in return, giving him a cheery
wave from time to time.

	'Did you have to do that, Adam?  We could have just found another
place.'

	'Of course I did.  The guy's an out and out bigoted bastard, and
the same thing might have happened in the next place, and the next.  Until,
speaking of bigoted bastards, we had to go back to Malone and company.'

	'You haven't exactly made us flavour of the month, you know.  You
won't change the poor guy by scaring the living daylights out of him.'

	'Your problem is you care too much about the ungifted idiots.  They
don't care about us, so why should we care about them?'

	Adam grinned and changed his mood.

	'Besides, I did him a favour.  He was losing.'

			************************  


	The usual disclaimers.  I did think of using the Chat but (1) it would
never be that empty and (2) Ratz wouldn't be that much of an idiot.  (also, (3),
Ratz's prosthetic would be too strong for Adam's tricks to work.)

	My characters, in a sort of a way.  And congratulations for getting
all the way to the end of part six.  I'm expecting two or three more.


		- Paul Sherliker