Harm ran down the hall full speed,his righthand gripping the handle of his sword. The left was pressed to the pocket of his pants, keeping the data disc in its place. He could see the exit zone, it looked like a glowing green pillar,up ahead and he was certain to win.
He passed an intersection and a dark figure whirled out behind him. Harmskidded to a stopas he turnedandstarted to draw his sword. The figure was dressed in ablack cowboyhat that cast shadow on his face, leaving only his long, shoulder-length, thick, white hair out; and2 blackrobes that concealed his body. The first robe covered the second and fell from the figure's shoulders to his elbows. The second robe went to just above his ankles. A dull brown cross hungfrom his neck on a chain.The robes parted with the figure's arms as he aimed his two pistols. As Harm's hand started the pull the sword the firearms went off. Harm was lifted off his feet and thrown onto his back. Harm got up to one knee on the floor with excruciating pain in his chest. He glowed in a green light and found himself almost completely paralyzed. The figure approached him.
"You want the disc, Connor?" Harm asked, producing it from his pocket and holding it up between the index and middle fingers of his left hand.
Connor holstered one pistol, sliding it into the holster hidden under his robes. He seemed to think about it for a moment before reaching down and pulling Harm's sword and sheath from his belt.
Harm was puzzled as he was enveloped in green light and disappeared. He reappeared a bit further down the hall, right next to the exit zone. He was in luck, though Connor was racing down the hallway in the opposite direction. He only had to wait it out now.
-Later-
The low light of the room was enhanced by the glow of several cigarettes. A smoky haze hung up near the ceiling. Music,fast rock,played low adding a background to the conversations of the patrons.
A waitress exited the kitchen carrying two plates. On one plate was a steak, rare. On the other was a bowl of soup. She walked through the restaurant to her destination: a table in the back. Two men sat at the table. One was an older man who had brown hair tied into a short ponytail that hung down to his shoulders. He also had a receding hairline that had moved over the top of his head. He wore a rare tasteless Hawaiian shirt and jeans. The waitress set the steak down in front of him. The other was a much younger man, probably in his 20s. His hair was full and completely white. It was alsotied into a ponytail that extended to his shoulder-blades. He wore black pants and a leather trench coat. She set the soup in front of him.
"Alright, then. Ready to get down to business, Goria?" The Hawaiian shirt guy asked.
"If you are," The white-haired man responded.
"How many credits do you have?"
"Five hundred, Urza."
"Okay, tell ya what we'll do. I can set you up in a decent place for 100 credits a week to start. This'll give you4 weeks, counting foodcosts,to find steady work and once you have a job we'll recalculate your rent based on your salary. Sound good?"
"I guess. Where am I gonna findwork?"
Urza lifted a cigarette to his lips and flipped open his lighter. With a movement of his thumb the flame ignited on the wick and he moved it onto the end of his cigarette. When the cigarette caught fire he flipped the lighter closed. Urza took a drag before responding.
"You're strong as an ox; you can probably find work moving boxes at the warehouses. Those scientist-types are getting new relics every day and they'll definitely need help," Urza responded, pausing for another drag before he continued, "You ever consider becoming a Hunter? You're sure built like one."
"I'll pass," Goria responded.
"Suit yourself. I am a Broker, you know," Urza said.
"Used to be a broker."
"Watch it. I'll take your first week's rent in advance."
Goria reached intro his trench coat and produced a leather billfold. He opened it and took a plastic card from inside. He tosses it across the table where it slid underneath Urza's hand. Urza pocketed it and extended his hand. Goria grasped it and they shook.
-Later-
Goria slid the key into the lock and turned it as he twisted the doorknob. He pushed open the door and entered his apartment as he withdrew the key and pocketed it.
"Decent place my ass," Goria grumbled.
The room was in terrible condition. The ceiling had stains on it where rain had leaked through the roof. The floor had dried bits of what can loosely be called stuff on it. The wallpaper was peeling off. Other parts of the wall had holes in them. Ina corner was a small desk with a chair.The bed was small and looked like it hadn't seen a cleaning in years.
Goria walked to the bed and slung the duffel bag off his shoulder. He set it down at the foot of the bed on the floor. He took off his trench coat and threw it on a chair on the other side of the room. He didn't have a shirt on. Goria crouched down to untie his shoes. As his head lowered he got an eye-level view of the bed. He paused for a moment.
"I'll leave them on tonight."
Goria turned and laid down on the bed,lacing his hands behindhis head. The room did have a few saving graces. It had a television on a wooden stand. There was also a window that looked out onto the street that was unbroken. The bathroom seemed to get a regularly cleaning.
"So, Urza does have a sense of decency."
Goria thought back on the last week. To his arrival in town and traveling through the desert. The thing was, was that was all he could remember. His earliest conscious memory was waking up a ways off the road in the middle of the desert with his duffle bag. He had made a small shelter out of a crevice in a rock formation. It was like he'd been hiding.
After the initial shock wore off he went through his possessions and found 500 credits and a photo ID that told him his first name, Goria,and age, 19. He found a map and followed into the town. He'd stopped in the first building he found and met Urza. After spending 2 nights on the streets he found that Urza owned an apartment complex and got him to rent an apartment to him.
Urza was a slimy little man who only agreed to something if he knew what was in it for him in advance. Goria didn't like the man. But, Urza knew how to get things and get things done. If Goria was going to live a decent life, he'd need that connection.
Of course, decent and normal lives were hard to come by. It had been 62 years since The Ruin. Goria had read about that through thebooks the scientist kept at a public library. However, the books neglected to mention what The Ruin was. And 62 years after it happened, the last of those who remembered were dying off. It was a global catastrophe and Goria deduced it was most likely the result of the actions of people.
After The Ruin people gradually began to reform themselves. They still had most of the technology they had before The Ruin, or at least access to them via ruins. However, they barely had the ability to repair damaged pieces and no way to produce new ones. At least not yet.
The town Goria was in, Arkland, had gone as far as to reform government. As far as they knew, which was very little, they were alsothe technological center of the world. Working televisions and radios kept the populace informed, or atleast as informed as those in control wanted them,and they also fielded a large crew of scientists. The governmental leaders were, however, no help. Their policies and styles ranged varied greatly and ultimately they were just figureheads.
Enterprising men and womenhad set up the economy again and began to influence through it. A large corporation had sprung up and was, more or less, in control. Luckily for those in the Arkland area, it did seem to be benevolent. Goria supposed they figured that exploitation and corruption would get them nowhere in this environment.
The reintroduction of an economy was a slow course. The first step for the corporation was to introduce a new calendar. It was the same as the old except that the years rolled over. The era is now called A.R. for After Ruin. The A.R. era, oddly enough, was started before the calendar was instituted.
The first method of exchange encouraged by the corporation was bartering. This allowed them to gauge what the people thought was valuable in comparison to other objects. Since the corporations had most of the technology, this allowed them to accrue a considerable amount of wealth. In A.R. 30 they reintroduced money in the form of credits. Using the information they'd gathered during the bartering phase, the corporation published a price conversion chart.
The corporation loaned money out freely with no interest to encourage small businesses. Periodic injections into the monetary supply supported rapid growth. Unfortunately, the corporation still didn't have what they need to revolutionize Arkland into a capitalist utopia. They need manufacturing. But no operable manufacturing plants have been found in the area and resources, particularly capital and labor,were not readily available enoughto start one.
The only way the corporation was going to get what it needed was to excavate technology from ruins. The corporation began programs to activelty excavate Ruins in AR 41. The corporation had established a volunteer military years earlier and put it to work excavating ruins. Casualty rates were unacceptable and the corporation quickly pulled the military from the effort. The corporation then took notice of the successful freelance efforts and the term 'Hunter' was coined.
To capitalize on the mercenary nature of Hunters, the corporation established a formal league for them to operate through. The symbiotic relationship between the Hunters and the corporation was born. The corporation fed their desire for competition, battle, and profit in a non-lethal atmosphere. The Hunters provided the corporation with the technology it needed.
Goria closed his eyes briefly. That was almost verbatim from a book he'd thumbed through. His information recall was spectacular. His memory was photographic. If his memory was so good, why the hell could he only remember up to a week ago?
