One Year Closer

[LunaticOnTheGrass]

"Erich Klugmann?"

He looked up at the Bar's Bouncer in the process of verifying his identification.

"There is a long list of capital crimes here just on the surface of your Neural Net ID page."

He reached a hand to his omnipresent blaster in caution. To Erich, paranoia was wisdom, not a disorder.

"Relax. This is neutral territory. Anyone bothers you, I'll let them know."

He croaked out a "danke" as his grasp on the holstered firearm relaxed, filtering into the bar.


Thoroughly rife with cigar and cigarette smoke, Heisenberg's docking bay-level Bar rocked with relative hustle and bustle for so humble a station. If only for one standard solar cycle, the political standpoint of the patrons did not matter as they congregated and mingled. Erich's gaze rested briefly upon what he thought were Hessians and off-duty Federal Police singing a highly-off-tune version of "Auld Lang Syne". Stationed and visiting scientists compared their drinking prowess instead of their notes.

He took his own seat, sparing a sober moment to reflect upon his accomplishments in the year. One series of destructive explosions and emergency-sealing modules came starkly to mind.

Zwickau.

Erich leaned forward to pinch his brow, recalling how his courage and resolve flagged and faltered soon after the Zwickau debacle, how he fled as far as his standard routes could take him, away to the Omegas. His own mind seemed to suppress what passed the months by, but, thanks to a certain Police-Director's intervention, he was safely within Rheinlandic space once more.

A pretty young woman approached his table; a waitress. "Would you like a drink?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but his thoughts reverted abruptly to the prior year. Strewn bottles about his feet.

There was much to do. He composed himself and uttered a single, confident word.

"Nein."