Station Chronicles III: Martin Advance by Mary Brick

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The Station Chronicles: Martin Advance (3/6)
by Mary Brick

CHAPTER 3

(Present)

Wandering aimlessly, Morgan came across an all-night restaurant. Deciding a hot cup of tea might be what he needed to get to sleep, he entered the dimly lit cafe. Due to the lateness of the hour, most of the tables were empty. A tired-looking waitress led him to a small table and took his order. Morgan watched her walk into the kitchen. His mind wandered back to another dimly lit restaurant with a waitress who was altogether different. Back to the day his life took a totally unexpected, yet eminently agreeable, turn for the better.

***

(3 years ago)
(Morgan)

The day didn't start out so agreeable, though. Morgan had spent a very trying morning with his supervisor. He felt he wasn't advancing fast enough and that his talents weren't being used to their full potential. His supervisor said that he just needed to be patient. Morgan argued that he had *been* patient. That he had given nine years to the department and was still only a Level Three.

"Look, I come to work every day. I work 6-7 days a week, as many as 15 hours a day," Morgan argued. "I encode and decode your reports all day long and maybe get to write a few measly, nearly useless programs. I've put in my time. When am I going to get some real responsibility?"

Unfortunately for Morgan, he had picked a day when his supervisor's ulcer was acting up, his wife was nagging him to take some time off, and his kids were choosing this day to exert their independence. He was in no mood for some low-level computer hack to start making demands.

"Okay, Martin, you want some responsibility? I'll give you some responsibility. There's been another accident at the Zone 3 Copper Mine in the southeast quadrant, United States. Why don't you get your butt down there and get an incident report from the operations manager. That responsibility enough for you?"

Morgan's eyes opened wide and for a moment he had trouble breathing. "Mine? United States?" he gasped. "You mean, on *Earth*?"

The supervisor rolled his eyes. "Yes, I mean on *Earth*. You want to advance? Then I suggest that you take a few more assignments planetside. And I suggest you hurry. There's a shuttle leaving in a few minutes. Unless, of course, you want to stay overnight?"

"Uh, no. A day trip will be fine." Morgan hurried for the door before his assignment got any worse.

Getting in an autocab, Morgan slouched low in the seat. "Shuttle Bay 9 and make it quick." He was not about to miss this shuttle. If he did, he would not be able to complete his assignment and get out before the last shuttle left Earth. Spending the night in one of those hell-holes they called a hotel was not how he wanted to spend his evening.

***

(Bess)

"So, what are you going to do today?" Maynard Klempt asked his daughter as she cleared the table of the remains of their breakfast.

"Oh, I don't know," Bess sighed. "I thought I'd do a little shopping, have lunch with the girls, and then go out dancing all night."

"Okay, okay, you cheeky thing. Stupid question." With a heavy sigh, he took one last look at the report he'd been reading during breakfast and tossed it into his satchel. "What a day this is going to be," he muttered, walking to the door.

"Got your meeting with the Government Rep today?" Bess asked.

"Yeah. And I'm not looking forward to it at all. These guys think they can come down, ask their questions, make their reports, and everything will be all right. What do they know about what it's like to live and work down here, tucked away on their cushy stations with their cushy jobs?"

Bess gave her father a reassuring hug. "Don't worry, Daddy. Remember what you always told me? Remember who you are and where you come from and don't take any nonsense from anyone. If I know you, you'll handle him just fine."

***

(Morgan)

Sitting in the cramped seat of the shuttle, Morgan took out his data recorder. He started composing a list of questions he needed to ask the mine supervisor. He was determined to be as prepared as possible in order to get out and back to the stations as quickly as he could. Entering Earth's atmosphere, sudden turbulence rocked the shuttle and Morgan let out a yelp of surprise. His data recorder slipped from his hands and landed on the floor. When he picked it up, Morgan noticed that the detailed questions he had written were gone. With a curse of frustration, Morgan checked the recorder. It had accidentally shut off when it hit the floor.

"Damn it,' he thought. "This is just my luck.' He felt the shuttle slow as it completed its landing. "And I don't have time to retype them. This is going to slow things down plenty.' With a frustrated shake of his head, Morgan repacked his briefcase and exited the shuttle.

The shuttle terminal was bustling with activity. Loudspeakers announced departures and arrivals in a tinny, mechanical voice that was barely understandable. Poorly-dressed Earth Residents mingled with well-dressed Station Residents as each made their way in and out of the terminal. Morgan had been to Earth only once in his life. It was early in his career and he did his best to blot out the memory. Apparently he did a good job because he had no idea where to go now.

Spotting what he assumed was a terminal employee, Morgan walked up to a bored-looking man in an ill-fitting uniform.

"Uh, excuse me," Morgan said, trying to get the man's attention. "Could you tell me how to get to Zone 3 Copper Mine Operations Office?"

The man spared Morgan a disinterested glance before pointing to his right. "Autocabs over there," he grunted and walked off.

"Thank you," Morgan said sarcastically. With a heavy sigh, he walked over to the line of waiting vehicles. They were dirty and in poor condition, a far cry from the clean, sleek autocabs on the stations. Barely masking his disgust, Morgan entered the first autocab and gave his destination. With a loud rumble, the vehicle moved on its way.

Morgan took out his data recorder and attempted to retype the questions he needed to ask. However, the vehicle was shaking so badly on the track that typing was impossible. Getting angrier by the minute, Morgan shoved the recorder back in his briefcase and waited out the ride.

The autocab traveled through dimly lit tunnels that oozed slime whose origin Morgan didn't want to consider. He began to fear that he would actually have to exit the comparatively safe haven of the biodomes and venture out into the horror that was now Earth.

Morgan knew the stories all too well. It was a source of pride for those on the stations to compare their safe, sterile environment with the ruin that was Earth. He knew that decades of abuse had slowly rendered Earth all but uninhabitable and forced the majority of people to escape skyward to the steel and glass structures he proudly called home.

The autocab stopped and Morgan stepped out into an open area devoid of activity. He looked around and spotted a door on the far side. Walking up to it, he saw a sign that read "Operations Office.' With a murmur of relief, he opened the door.

A woman sat behind a decrepit desk. Typing frantically on the keyboard in front of her, she didn't even look up before greeting Morgan with a surly "What do you want?"

"Earth Res,' Morgan thought with distaste, but bit back the words before they could come out. He certainly didn't want to antagonize anyone who could stand in the way of his getting his job done. "My name is Morgan Martin, government liaison from Department 4. I'm here to see the operations manager."

Flicking a switch on an ancient intercom box, the woman announced him. Garbled words issued from the box in reply. Morgan didn't understand them, but the woman apparently did. "Third door on the left," she said, motioning with her head as she resumed her assault on the keyboard.

Without a word, Morgan headed down the short hallway. Coming to the third door on the left, Morgan took note of the name on the sign next to the door: "Maynard Klempt, Operations Manager'. Smoothing his jacket and adjusting his tie, Morgan took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in." The voice was deep and authoritative. Morgan started to sweat.

Entering the office, Morgan took quick note of his surroundings. The room was bright with a harsh light that did nothing to improve the decor, if one could call it "decor." Holopics of various mining operations covered the walls. The furnishings were sparse; a work table piled high with assorted paperwork, a few chairs, and a desk. Morgan stepped up to the desk and sized up the man sitting behind it. He didn't like what he saw. Maynard Klempt was not a large man, but his demeanor gave the impression that he was man's man. He was an Earth Resident and a miner, a man used to hard work. The combination made Morgan uncomfortable. To hide his unease, Morgan drew upon his status as a Station Resident which had the unfortunate effect of making him sound pompous.

"Good afternoon. My name is Morgan Martin and I'm..."

"I know who you are," Klempt interrupted. "Sit down."

Morgan was taken aback by the man's brusqueness. The term "Earth Res' popped into his mind again. "Yes, well, I'm here to talk to you about..."

Again he was interrupted. "I know why you're here. Let's dispense with the pleasantries and get down to business." Maynard Klempt leaned forward on his desk, his arms crossed in front of him. "The disaster in my mine yesterday was the direct result of station bureaucracy and negligence. This situation is going to have to change or you're going to have a full-scale strike on your hands. I'm sure you remember the Uprising of 2180."

Morgan's mind frantically searched for any memory of such an event. He drew a total blank. "Uh, I'm sorry, Mr. Klempt. I can't say that I do. However, if you would just give me the details of yesterday's incident?"

"Details? Do you mean to tell me that you haven't read the report?" Klempt rolled his eyes in exasperation as Morgan shook his head.

"No, that's why I'm here. To take an incident report," Morgan replied, slumping down in his chair. This was not going well at all.

Klempt's eyes bored into Morgan's. "Incident? Incident! Is that what you station bureaucrats are calling this? Nine lives lost and scores injured and you're calling this an *incident*?"

"Look, why don't you just tell me what happened and we can go from there," Morgan said, his voice shaking with frustration.

Grabbing a data tape from the pile on his desk, Klempt threw it at Morgan. "Why don't you just take that with you and read it. Come back tomorrow and we can finish this then."

Morgan's mind reeled with the thought of having to stay on Earth one minute longer than necessary. He certainly had no intention of coming back tomorrow to finish anything.

"Mr. Klempt. I, uh, I don't think that will be necessary. Why don't you just tell me *now* what happened?"

"Mr. Martin. I don't think you understand the gravity of this situation. Read the report and come back tomorrow." That said, Klempt stood and gestured toward the door. Morgan had no choice but to leave and come back tomorrow.

Exiting the office, Morgan jammed the tape in his pocket. "Great. An Earth Res with attitude and a night in hell. No job is worth this,' he thought.

***

(Bess)

"C'mon, Bess, let's get out of here! We only have 30 minutes for our break." Jane grabbed Bess' arm and nearly dragged her to the door.

Leaving the restaurant where they both worked, the two women quickly walked down the corridor and put as much space between them and "that hell-hole" as Jane referred to it as they could.

"I thought Frank would never give us a break!" Jane exclaimed and they found an empty bench and sat down.

"Oh, it's not so bad," Bess replied.

"What?! How can you say that?"

"Well, I suppose we can get a job in the mines..." Bess teased her friend.

"Stop right there! Okay, maybe it's not so bad. Forget I said anything. So," Jane said, turning to Bess, "how was your date with Joey last night? C'mon, give me the dirt!"

Bess sighed. "It didn't go very well. Oh, I don't know. He's nice and all that, but he's so...ordinary, I guess. He's just like every other boy I've ever dated."

"What are you talking about? He's gorgeous! He already owns his own place. You'll have it made!"

"I don't know, Jane. He just doesn't do it for me."

"Oh, please!" Jane said, disgustedly. "Your father has messed up your head with ideas of the "Knight in Shining Armor', the perfect man. Trust me, you're not going to find any of that type down here."

Bess stared at her friend in indignation. "He has not. He just doesn't want me to settle for...ordinary." She sighed in despair. "Jane, I don't know. Sometimes I think that the right guy will come in, sweep me off my feet, and life will be wonderful. Then I think that guys like Joey are all I can expect. Not that he's a bad guy. He's not. But, there's no spark, no imagination, no...." Bess' voice trailed off.

""Knight in Shining Armor'?" Jane asked softly.

Bess stared off into the distance. "Jane, do you ever dream? Do you ever dare hope that one day, things will work out...differently, somehow, than they're supposed to? That by some twist of fate, the life you know you are destined to lead will somehow be altogether different, better than it's supposed to be? Do you, Jane? Do you ever dare dream?"

"Every day, kiddo. Every day."

***

(Morgan)

Morgan managed to find his way to a nearby hotel. He checked in and took a precarious elevator ride to the fourth floor. Opening the door, he groaned in dismay. The room was as spartan as he had feared. A bed, a dresser, a table, and a chair. That was it. No holovid terminal, no computer array, no room service machine, nothing. Just the bare minimum. Tossing his briefcase on the desk, Morgan flopped down on the bed. It shook unsteadily under his weight. "Great, now I won't even get a decent night's sleep,' he thought.

With nothing else to do, Morgan took out his data recorder and the data tape the operations manager had given him. Powering up the machine, he inserted the tape and pressed the play button. Reading the report, Morgan couldn't comprehend Klempt's anger. It was just a simple equipment failure that happened all to often but was to be expected. Unfortunately, this particular failure occurred during peak production hours, hence the heavy casualties. However, Morgan didn't see anything that pointed to station negligence. He doubted, however, that he would be able to convince Maynard Klempt of that.

Suddenly, Morgan heard a low, grumbling sound. Startled, he sat upright on the bed and look around the room for the source of the sound. Hearing it again, he shook his head, chagrined. The sound was coming from himself. It was his empty stomach growling. "This place is making me way too jumpy,' he thought ruefully. Realizing that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, he left his room in search of a place to eat.

Remembering that he'd seen a restaurant nearby, he started walking. Reaching the main thoroughfare, he looked around until he found what he was looking for. He was surprised at the lack of activity since the hour wasn't all that late. He reached the entrance just as a woman closed the door.

"Wait a minute!" Morgan said. "I want to get something to eat."

The woman looked at Morgan and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm sorry. We're closed."

The woman's image was hard to see through the dirty glass, but Morgan pleaded with her anyway. "It's only 2100. How come you're closing so early?"

"Not much business tonight so there's no point in staying open late," came the reply.

Morgan threw his hands up in dismay. "But I'm starving!" he whined.

The woman opened the door and took a long look at Morgan. Taking in his clean, if rumpled suit, his neatly combed hair, and his soft, Station Res' hands, she shook her head. "I hardly think you have a clue what starving is. But, okay, come on in. I'll see what I can do."

Morgan hardly noticed her rebuke because he thought he had died. That had to be the reason there was an angel standing there before him. He just stood there like a man who had found paradise, lost in her large, beautiful blue eyes.

Smiling a smile that sealed Morgan's fate, she stood back and opened the door wider. "Well, aren't you going to come in?"

The spell broken, Morgan shook his head as if to clear it. "Uh, yeah, sure. I'm coming in."

The woman led him to a table and Morgan sat down. Looking down at Morgan, she said, "There's no point in looking at the menu. The cook has already left. I'll see what I can find leftover in the kitchen. I'll be right back."

Morgan watched her walk across the room. Her abundant, curly hair was pulled into a ponytail. Her legs were long and her arms slender and smooth. Her walk was the stuff dreams were made of. He didn't see her worn clothes or her neatly mended shoes. This time the term "Earth Res' never entered his head.

A few minutes later, though it seemed an eternity to Morgan, the woman returned. She was carrying a plate of non-descript food which she placed in front of him. "Can I get you something to drink?" she asked. Her voice was soft and melodic, washing over Morgan like a cool breeze.

"Uh, yeah, sure uh coffee would be uh fine." Morgan cringed inwardly. "Smooth, Morgan, very smooth. What is wrong with you?' he thought. He wasn't sure, but he knew this woman was the cause of it.

Returning with his coffee, the woman placed it on the table next to the plate of untouched food. With a soft laugh, the woman gestured to the plate. "I thought you said you were starving?"

Morgan looked at his plate. "Uh, yeah, I am. Uh, would you care to join me?" He looked up at the woman, his eyes begging for her to say yes.

The woman glanced back toward the kitchen where a man Morgan assumed was her boss was glaring at her. "I can't. I have work to finish. Enjoy your meal." She turned and walked away.

(Bess)

After clearing away the dirty dishes from the tables and tidying up the dining room, Bess quickly retreated into the kitchen. Leaning against the refrigerator, she shook her head in disbelief, amazement, and mirth. "Where did this guy come from?' she thought to herself. "He's from the stations, that much is obvious. But what else? What does he do? What is he like? Why is he here and how long will he be around? And why am I so worried about it?' With a mental shake of her head, Bess started washing the dishes she'd brought in with her. But her mind kept wandering back to the man in the dining room. She was well aware of the way he looked at her, as if he'd had a revelation of some sort. Men didn't look at her that way. Frequently it was a look of admiration, but more often than not it was a look of lust. But this was totally different, and Bess was more than a little intrigued. Something Jane had said, what was it? A "Knight in Shining Armor'? Bess let out a little laugh. "No, hardly that,' she thought. "But definitely not...ordinary.'

***

(Morgan and Bess)

Morgan sat back in his chair and let out a long sigh. Turning his attention to his dinner, he realized that he wasn't hungry anymore. He drank his coffee and ate little while he watched the woman give her attention to her duties. She was quick and efficient, wasting neither time nor energy. Morgan watched her as if cleaning a dining room was the most fascinating phenomenon he had ever seen. She disappeared into the kitchen and was gone for a long time. Morgan assumed she was cleaning in there and wished he could watch. Suddenly feeling foolish and not a little voyeuristic, he gave himself a mental shake and turned his full attention to his plate. The food was bland and unappetizing but he determined to eat every bite, if only not to disappoint the woman who had gone out of her way to get it for him. That, more than anything else, impressed Morgan. In his experience, people didn't go out of their way for anybody. They were friendly to your face yet plotted against you. Or they were openly hostile and plotted against you. All for the sake of level advancement. That was the only thing of importance…what level you were. For the higher the level, the greater the riches and power. Yet this woman had shown him a kindness for no reason other than to just be kind to another human being. Morgan was deeply impressed.

Getting the feeling that he was being watched, Morgan turned and looked behind him. The man and woman were watching him, the man with impatience and the woman with interest. Realizing that they must be ready to leave, Morgan quickly stood and motioned to his now empty plate and cup. "Finished," he said.

The woman walked over and took the dishes back to the kitchen. Morgan went to the counter to pay, stalling until the woman came back out and headed for the door. Quickly pocketing his wallet, Morgan hurried after her.

"Uh, Miss," he called after her. The woman stopped and turned, looking at Morgan expectantly.

Not knowing what to say, but certain that he couldn't let this woman just walk out of his life, Morgan fidgeted with his jacket buttons. "Stop it,' he scolded himself silently. "You're acting like a schoolboy.' With that, he straightened up and became Morgan Martin, Level Three Government Liaison, Station Resident.

"Miss, would you care to accompany me for an evening out on the town?"

The woman threw her head back and laughed. "You don't get to Earth much, do you?" she asked.

That shattered Morgan's pretensions. "No, as a matter of fact I don't. Why do you ask?"

"Because there is no "evening out on the town' stuff here. Not like what I'm sure you're used to. And I don't think you'd like the places we do have."

Morgan's heart pounded in his chest. She was saying no. She was going to walk out of his life forever. He had to stop her but he didn't know how. Then came the reprieve.

"However, we can go for a walk if you'd like."

With a sigh that he hoped didn't sound too relieved, Morgan hurried to open the door for her. They exited the restaurant and looked around. Turning to the woman, Morgan said, "Well, this is your neighborhood. Which direction do you suggest?"

Before she could answer, the man came out of the restaurant. "Bess, don't forget you're working for Jane tomorrow. I expect you in at 0700 sharp."

"Okay, Frank, I won't forget. See ya tomorrow," Bess replied.

With a final hostile glare at Morgan, Frank turned and walked away. Morgan looked at the woman next to him. "So your name is Bess. That's a very pretty name. Is it short for Elizabeth?"

Bess laughed as she steered them in the opposite direction from the one Frank had taken. "No, nothing as fancy as that. It's just plain Bess."

"No," Morgan disagreed. "Not plain."

Bess blushed at the compliment. "And what is your name?"

"Morgan."

"Morgan," Bess softly said to herself. Hearing her say his name, Morgan knew that he had to make this woman his own.

They slowly wandered the walkways. At first their conversation consisted of insignificant smalltalk. But as their initial reserve fell away, they found themselves telling each other things that were of the most personal nature. Though Bess was eager to hear all about his life on the stations, Morgan kept steering the conversation back to her. Her soft voice was music to Morgan's ears, and he found himself wanting to know everything about her.

Despite their vastly different positions in life, they found they had much in common. They were both their parents' only children. They were both basically shy around people, though for Morgan it stemmed from insecurity and with Bess it stemmed from an overprotective father. They both struggled with academics despite their natural intelligence. And they both had lost their mothers at a young age. Morgan's heart went out to her as she told him the story of her mother's tragic death.

"My family has been miners for generations. When the stations were built, my great-grandparents felt that staying here and working the mines would ensure prosperity for their family. With no natural resources, the stations were dependent on the mines for building materials and energy. However, the conditions on Earth got worse and worse, and station scientists soon developed synthetic materials for many of their needs. The land was practically useless for farming. Enormous biodomes were built, but they were inadequate for the needs of the many who stayed. My grandparents looked into moving to the stations, but they couldn't afford the passage-up fee and didn't want to leave their children with inherited debt. So they stayed on Earth. The mines were being stripped. Work conditions continued to deteriorate and jobs were scarce. You took any job available, regardless of the danger. But, it paid the best money, so my parents continued to work the mines."

Bess stopped talking and sat on a nearby bench. She looked off into the distance and Morgan could see that her mind was far away. He waited for her to continue.

"I came home from school one day and found my father sitting at the kitchen table. I was very surprised to see him because he usually worked late; y'know, for the extra money. In his hands was a satchel that belonged to my mother. He looked at me as I entered the room. I could tell he'd been crying and that frightened me. "Daddy, what's wrong?' I asked. He just kept looking at me, clutching that satchel as if it were a lifeline. "Daddy,' I said, "you're scaring me. What's wrong? Where's Mom?' He came over to me and knelt in front of me. He took me in his arms and held me tight, dropping the satchel on the floor. "Oh, Bess,' was all he said as he started to cry. I had never seen my father cry, and I knew something terrible had happened. And I knew what it was. My friends had lost parents to the mines. I tried to prepare myself for his next words, but they were a shock all the same. "Bess, honey, your mother is dead.' He said it so gently as if he could make it easier to hear. Of course, it didn't. We cried all night, mourning her. After that, my father refused to let me work in the mines. He said the world was dangerous enough as it was without looking for trouble. He became very protective of me. He always tells me how much I remind him of my mother. I know it would kill him if he lost me, too."

Tears were streaming down Bess' face. Morgan did the only thing he knew to do. He put his arm around her shoulder, drew her close, and let her cry.

As Bess' tears subsided, she moved away from Morgan. He wanted to close the gap again, but knew now wasn't the time. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped her face clear of her tears. Smiling shyly at Morgan, Bess took the handkerchief from him.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her face. "I usually don't get this emotional. It's just that I haven't talked about that day for such a long time."

Morgan patted her hand. "Don't be sorry. I know exactly how you feel." And he told her the story of his own mother. He told her of his estranged relationship with his father and how he envied her relationship with hers. They continued to talk about everything and nothing, their hopes, dreams, and even the silly escapades they had had as children. They held nothing back, well, almost nothing. For all her experiences surviving on Earth, Morgan realized Bess was not a worldly person. There was one thing he felt he could never tell her.

"So you mean to tell me that a girl as pretty as you doesn't even have a boyfriend? I imagined you'd be swamped with suitors."

Bess laughed and blushed again. Morgan loved how easily she blushed. The women that he knew were well beyond that.

"No, no boyfriends. Oh, I have boys who are friends, but, no no boyfriends."

"Why not?"

Bess shook her head with a laugh. "You haven't met my father yet. Believe me, once he gets done with them, they are afraid to even remain my friends!" Bess grew serious again. "But it's more than that. It's very hard for a woman down here. It's not like the stations where there's equality between the sexes, where a person can advance due to the quality of their work and not their gender. Here, it's totally different. It's not the brain that matters, it's the brawn. And the men have the brawn so they have the power. And they frequently exploit it. A woman has to be very careful of the man she chooses because he can toss her away just like yesterday's garbage. We don't have marriage contracts that protect the woman's interests as well as the man's. Half the time people don't even bother to get married. Why should they when divorce means nothing more than getting tossed out of your home with nothing, except the kids. And then where are you? Poor and homeless with a passel full of kids." Bess shook her head emphatically. "Well, that's not what I want. I want a good man who will take care of me no matter what. I deserve that much."

Morgan resolved then and there that this woman would find him to be the man she deserved. With that thought in mind, he also knew there would be one secret he would take to his grave.

Bess suddenly grasped Morgan by the arm. "Oh, my goodness! What time is it?"

Morgan looked at his watch. "Oh dear. It's 0300."

Bess looked dumbfounded. "Oh no, I had no idea it was so late. I have to get home. My father will be frantic, not to mention the fact that I have to be at work in four hours!"

Morgan stood and went to hail an autocab. "Well, let me take you home."

"No, that's okay. Your hotel is right nearby, and I live rather far from here."

Morgan started to argue but caught the look of pleading in Bess' eyes. He suddenly understood. If she came home with a man in tow, things could get pretty messy with her father.

"When can I see you again?"

Bess hesitated. This man was a Station Res and a member of the station government. She knew that in spite of his obvious attraction to her, he would never want a serious relationship with an Earth Res. The "Knight in Shining Armor' thing was truly a myth. But she liked him nonetheless. He was kind and sweet and had a good heart. Foolish though she knew it was, she knew she had to see him again. "I get off work at 1700. Why don't you meet me at the restaurant then?"

"I'll be there," Morgan said, a smile lighting his face. The autocab pulled up and Morgan motioned for Bess to get in.

Bess panicked. She didn't have the money for an autocab. "It's okay. I can walk."

"Don't be silly," Morgan said, and he helped her into the autocab. "The ride is on me." He watched the autocab disappear down the tunnel and continued watching for a long while after.

END OF CHAPTER 3

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