Morning comes, shy along the eastern horizon at first, then brazen with familiar scrubland heat once the sun's up. It's quiet downstairs in the bar. The back door is open behind the counter to let in the light, and an oscillating fan on one of the tables ruffles the old napkins missed by whoever was on bus duty last night. The recorodion is playing softly, a polo match by the sound of the polite applause crackling behind the suave-voiced announcer. Wolf stands at the bar in his shirtsleeves, shuffling receipts and twirling a pencil in his long fingers. He doesn't hear me come until my heel hits a loose tile, and his head jerks up. The pencil slips. The snap of lead against the floor is loud among the empty stools.

"Dang, Nose." His smile is forced. "That's a pretty piece."

I may not be the best shot. But I know how to hold a pistol so folks know I mean business.

Wolf rubs his forehead, sucking his teeth. "Did not expect this from you, dame, I did not. I'll open the register for you, safe too, but you won't find much. This ain't the joint to be rustling. I'm barely making it by, here."

I glance at the open door behind him. "Melna and the other girls around?"

"Nope, I handle this place 'til dinnertime. Don't get enough customers during the day – like I said, barely making it."

"I'm not interested in what your beet beer or what have you gets you on a good night." I kick the stool nearest me so it scoots a little towards him. "Shut the door, lock it, then sit down."

"If this is about the Guild story you're after, I swear, Nose, I don't know nothing," he says, but he complies with a weary ease, resting both hands on top of his head without me telling him to after locking the door and putting the key on the bar. He sits down on the stool, facing me, with his hands still on his head.

So he has been ordered around at gunpoint before. At least he's telling the truth about that.

I'm wearing the same makeup, updo, and outfit I had on yesterday, but without the blazer and scarf, so my visor is easily accessible. It ripples up at my activation and at once begins pinning key marks around Wolf's eyes and lips, gathering information to read and translate any micro-expressions. With my free hand, I hold up an earpiece.

"This won't hurt you. Just an earpiece."

He still flinches away when I first hold it up to the side of his head, however, muttering, "That's what they all say."

Once it's in his ear, I turn on my visor's comm. Now anything I say will be for Wolf only, and not any bugs that may be in the bar – I'd already scanned for any video surveillance,  and come up negative, but bugs are easier to miss. 

"I'm not going to hurt you unless you endanger me or anyone else. I'm not a reporter. I'm a Fire-keeper, and I need to know how your entire establishment is run on soal that, according to town records I have access to, does not match the amount imported within the last nineteen months."

I had Core run some numbers. It's a good thing, having a partner with a head for the maths.

My visor glitters with micro-expression tags, the undulating orange and yellow of irritation and fear washing over Wolf's face. He grits his teeth and his eyes dart to the light hanging above us for a second.

"Fire-keeper?" Then his eyes widen, big as eggs in his narrow face. "You're that dame from the other night, ain't you! Potato wine, smashed a glass. Roughed up one of my customers, now coming after me! Well, you think I got soal in here? Dame, I know there's trace here, but just look ar– "

"I did plenty of looking around last night. You'll have to add the cost of a few lightbulbs to my room tab."

His mouth stays open a moment. Then, hands still on his head, he shrugs and laughs, loudly. It echoes off the booths and dusty green-glass lanterns.

"No problem, easy fix, you're not the first rowdy guest to stay a night here."

"Wolf." I lower the gun. He's big, but far too wiry to be much trouble to me – no mass to protect his bones from a good direct blow. "I really am not interested in harming you. Lives are in danger. You need to cooperate with me."

"Lives is always in danger, Fire-keeper! You and your kind, maybe you don't understand, living your government-protected lives. But you know how many Enforcers make their way out here? Not one in the past four years!" He laughs again, but the sound is raspy and fragile, as if the real source of the humor had dried up long ago.

I purse my lips. Then I tuck Core's pistol into the back of my belt and lean forward so Wolf's and my eyes are on a level. I haven't looked at him this up-close before. Dust is engrained in the lines around his eyes, and gives his hair a grey cast.

"I bet you're tired of that. I bet there's a lot of things about this town you're tired of. Why don't you leave, Strony?"

I remember how close he stood to the barmaid Melna last night, and how she called him by his first name and said 'we'.

"I'm sure you and Melna would rather set up a better establishment somewhere else. What's keeping you two here?"

At mention of Melna, Wolf truly goes pale. His hands slip off his head.

"You leave her out of this!"

I shake my head. "I'm not going to do anything to her. I don't want anybody harmed."

He snorts, anger obliterating his caution so he throws up his hands and tosses his head. "That's what they said, too!"

"Who?"

He catches himself, bites his lip and puts his hands back on his head. This is growing old. I don't have time to wheedle.

Viridian, don't you dare punch him, Core interjects for the first time. I'd opened our comm link before going downstairs so he could warn me immediately if he noticed any heat signatures coming towards the bar. I must be growing more patient, if he didn't feel the need to step up for my conscience until now.

I won't. This time.

I straighten and deactivate my visor so Wolf can look me in the eye. I keep my voice to a whisper so only his earpiece can catch it.

"I'm a Fire-keeper. My promise as one is to keep the home fires of the empire burning, keep industry running, and prosperity and safety available. This town is burnt out. You yourself said you're barely scraping by, and by the looks of it, so is everyone else here. And you obviously aren't safe, if you've been robbed before. Nothing says you should be staying here. But you've got soal here, soal you shouldn't have. So I'm thinking the Guild have something to do with this. What are they doing here? What have they got on you? Or, what do you do for them that they pay you in soal for?

"The only way out is through, Strony. I can get you and Melna through. Help me, and I'll help you."

"As if Fire-keepers and Enforcers have ever given a shite about us!" Wolf hisses back, his face almost bone-like, taut with anger. "Nineteen months, you say this illegal soal's been here, but were any reports filed? Any investigations even launched?"

He drops his hands and stands up.

"Too late to be asking for my help. Get out of my bar."

I don't budge. "If you do nothing, nothing will change."

"If I help you, they'll cut the soal first, like they do any time they don't like how we look at them, or something. Then they'll kill us. Melna first, make me watch, then me." He spits at my feet. "Better getting by than dead."

"Funny."

He frowns. "What is?"

"Never met a man who enjoyed boot-licking before."

His nostrils flare.

"I'll bet it burns you up to watch Melna have to do it, too."

He clenches his fists. "Don't push me, dame. They hear I said anything to you, they will kill us, I swear. I'll sooner turn you in to them than say anything more."

"Listen, Strony. Yes, I know there haven't been many Fire-keepers or Enforcers out this way in a long time. But I'm here now. And any day now a big soal fall is going to hit this area. I get my hold full, I'll have clearance all the way to the Fire-keeper main base. You and Melna can come with me. Upon reaching the base you'll be relocated and guarded. If my kind come out here as infrequently as you say, you may never get another chance like this again."

Wolf hesitates, fists still clenched and chin lowered close to his chest. He's breathing hard.

"They've got trackers," he whispers. "They'll know you're here."

"They think I'm in the Ocean of Trees. I lost their targeting systems there. Now, are you with me, or not?"

He takes a step backwards, shaking his head. "You could be a test. They've sent those before. Shot the last bloke who tried to turn on them right between the eyes."

I pull the pistol from my belt but when he flinches away, I hold it up, grip towards him.

"I'm choosing to trust you. Accept that trust, or leave it."

You did put on those bulletproof undergarments, didn't you? Core flashes through my mind.

All my undergarments are bulletproof.

Wolf stares at the firearm. He licks his lips, glances around at the silent, light-stained pub. Then he slides trembling fingers around the grip and takes the pistol from me.

I roll back my shoulders. "Good. You used one of those before? It's soal-powered."

"They took my .44 when they came." He weighs the pistol in one hand and slides his other palm across it. "But good aim is still good, no matter the weapon, I figure."

I nod. "Hopefully you won't have to use it, but I prefer my allies to be armed. Now, to business. Is this a safe place to continue talking?"

He shakes his head, then jerks a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the bar. Leading me around it, he lifts a trapdoor in the floor that opens down into a room about five metres square with cracked cement floors and walls, and three rows of metal shelves. The white light of the bare, un-painted soal-powered bulb in the middle of the room reflects off dozens of bottles. Most are clear glass, like the ones upstairs on the mirror-lined shelves of the bar. But some, in the far corner, are blue and green and red, with fancy scrolling labels and cheesecloth-wrapped corks.

"My old man's brews," Wolf whispers when he sees me eyeing the fancier bottles, his voice deadened by the closeness of the room. "The pub was his back in the day. Used to be a real fine place."

"Some of this booze is sixty years old!" My eyes widen. "Bootlegging was illegal then."

"Don't gripe, Fire-keeper." Wolf turns and pulls the trapdoor shut behind us, and  then stands beside me, hunched so his head doesn't touch the cobwebby ceiling. "The Guild don't know it, but behind the cement this whole room's lined with copper. The Enforcers never found this room on their scanners thirty years ago, and the Guild still don't pick it up on theirs. No chance they'll hear anything we say down here."

"They haven't noticed the higher density of copper?" I quirk an eyebrow.

"The bar's made of copper, too, and it's right above us. We're safe." Wolf clears his throat. "We're safe."

It's unsettling, seeing him stripped of his cheekiness. But not surprising, really. The happiest people have often been the saddest, first.

"All right, then." I cross my arms over my chest. "How does Griswold stand with the Guild?"

Wolf rubs the back of his neck for a long moment, staring at the ground. Then he draws his hand over his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"The Guild first showed up about three years back. We'd been low on soal for a few months, and it didn't look like anybody noticed. It'd happened before – you Fire-keepers don't declare a state of low energy until it hits some city, while we folks out in the scrubland go without power for weeks. This town, it used to be the location of a big petrol pump, and it's been dying ever since the Great Energy Crisis and petrol got to be illegal on account of being so rare. So we're used to not having much power, but that don't mean we like it. When the first Guild come by selling soal for half the regular price, almost everybody jump at the opportunity."

"They sold it to you?"

"Yep, real cheap."

"What was the catch?"

"Don't ask for any from the Fire-keepers."

I frown. "That was all?"

"At first, and it first it made sense. You want your customers loyal to you. Don't want them seeking out your competition."

"Then what happened?"

"Then they started asking the cattlemen to help them gather the soal that fell on their land – said it was only fair, would keep the prices low for everybody. Cargon, he was the first one to say yes, and Lake, he was second. Ever since then they get the biggest share of soal, are real close with the Guild. But then the Guild asking favors from everybody, to keep the price low on the soal, they said, and the favors kept getting bigger. They'd set us up with all the power for the bar, here, then demanded we let 'em use it as their meeting place, remove the soal-powered weapon-lock on the door so they could always carry in the place without anybody knowing."

"Why did you let them?"

Wolf stares me dead in the eye for a long moment. Then his gaze drops to the ground and he stands quite still, arms hanging by his side.

"My old man ain't around any more, you'll notice. Made me watch, they did. Shot his knees, first, then his wrists and his stomach, then his head. Didn't want me forgetting, they said." His hands curl into white-knuckled fists. His eyes meet mine from under his unruly hair. "I never. And don't you forget, either, Fire-keeper. That's the Guild. Ain't no gentlemen. So you had best keep your damn word and get Melna and me out of here, or it'll be me who shoots your kneecaps to keep their bullets out of her."

It occurs to me, too late, that the copper lining of his room also blocks Core's reception of me. For the first time, I know his fear over my radio silence since leaving the Verve yesterday may be valid. I'm my only chance of getting out of this town again. And get out of this town I must. My only evidence of the Guild activity here is on me.

"Well?" Wolf demands between clenched teeth. The thin muscles on his arms are taut. "What's your plan?"

I slide my hands into my blazer pockets and am rewarded by the slight warmth of my recording device's motor running, as it had been ever since I descended the stairs into the bar.

"To find out what's happening to the soal, and get the backup we need to stop the Guild from getting more. All that hinges on getting a good lead. Who in town do you recommend a Nose to talk to about the lack of Enforcers and Fire-keepers around here?"

"That'd be Justman Liuen." Wolf shakes his head stiffly. "And I pity your pretty face for it."