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The music was classic Blues off an old wireless hub and Casnar sat behind the driver, Willy, while Braith sat in the spacious backseat among their bags behind Ronald in the passenger seat. "You wouldn't happen to be related to old Greg Shephard in Memphis?"
"Not that I'm aware," Braith replied.
"That's somethin' worth lookin' into," Ronald went on, "…He kind of looks like you with that European face you have," Braith glanced at Casnar.
She twisted his hand with hers in the back seat, "…You have any idea who to talk to in Nederlinds?"
"It's got specialists," the man driving said, navigating the narrow road under a low hanging cliff overhead, "…You go to the coffee houses and they'll set you up with the right folks…Place attracts a lot of old timers like us who enjoyed the outdoors, staying in shape before the war, now they like us just keep busy with research."
"Keeping busy with research sounds more interesting than getting drunk off moonshine," Casnar said with a look to Braith, "…What type of research are you conducting?"
"We specialize in nuclear catastrophes," Ronald said in his rambling tone, "…Aspen's been hot since the end of the war, we go up there and take readings with our meters and suits in back, hoping to move there one day when it all gets evened out some more and we can have ourselves a view….Memphis' nice, but low…Too low where we want to be."
"You mean you go there hoping for a resort to open up, and you've got some stake in the land, but you retired from doing something useful at one point in Tennessee?"
The men looked back at her over the seat top.
"Like that," Casnar covered his head with his hand, "…You had to make it awkward."
He was waiting outside the car at a gas station, the very few still intact, and Braith was stretching her legs with him while the old men relieved themselves.
"You made me come with you on this adventure," she hooked her hands into her pockets, the rear ones of her jeans, "…I'm just trying to make conversation, Casnar….I speak my mind."
"You didn't have to call them useless old gold diggers staking out fusor-steeped territory…They want to capitalize on the leftovers before anyone else, don't insult them for taking advantage."
"Nuke scientists looking to make some real estate capital on Colorado's Chernobyl…I think people were fucked enough already."
"You came to a powerful inference from what little they let out," he studied her bending her head back, face to the sun—it was colder the higher they went and the warmth of light was welcome, "…How did you just come to that opinion of yours anyway?"
"Kind of just my experience, I guess…."
"Like the spring you showed me yesterday—you just instinct it?"
"I get a feeling….That's all, and it's not meant to hurt…Only call out what someone's needing….I like them otherwise."
He nodded to the gas station as the old men came out, holding onto their pants and fixing their buckles, "…Hopefully they still let us ride with them…Try not to be so open about speaking your unfiltered mind, Braith," patting her on the arm, he nodded her in the car and they were rejoined by Ronald and Willy.
A day later, after sleeping in the back seat and taking turns driving with the men, Casnar and Braith were in Nederlinds….The alley among the peaks was quiet, dismally hued and full of prefabs from 2185, which had been brought in to correct a housing shortage in the blooming mountain town normally situated with houses made of sheet metal and scrap. Casnar went with her to one of the coffee houses lining the main thoroughfare, bicycles and SUVs parked in haphazardry along the broken sidewalks.
Braith invited herself to use one of the facilities while Casnar went to the barista manning the counter, an old drell who gave both of them an appraisal each with his tinted eyes…
"Wait until I tell my boy what crawled into this town," he smiled and Casnar narrowed his eyes, then recognized the scarred face, "…You of all drells," he chuckled as the gold arm wrapped with his.
"I haven't seen you since the sixties," Casnar said, putting both hands on the counter to steady himself, "…What are you doing up here?"
"The town was seeing some growth in the mines before the war hit, and I was sent here to help with the background I had from Nualavera and Sybilla," the drell leaned on his elbows and looked him up and down, "…You?"
"Just tried to survive where I touched down…I left and was on Kahje for a while, went back, found it too stressful, came out here as far as I could go and now I'm working a shop in Cherry Lake….You should come down and stay if you can manage it, though there's not much out there…Kind of like it that way."
"You were rode real hard by your father, I remember," Tor Vitale said, and looked towards the woman coming from the restroom, "…She with you?"
"You know she is," Casnar said, Tor appreciating a certain chemical he had definitely sensed in the woman when she first walked by and now had Casnar there to scent in front of him, "…Braith, meet Tor Vitale, he's an in-law and from Kahje, not to mention he spent a little time with my family."
Offering his hand, Braith shook it, her pale fingers wrapped in the green and navy slender ones, "…You doing with this guy here," Tor said, tilting his navy crests towards Casnar, "…He's a handful, isn't he?"
"He keeps it to himself mostly, but he's been good to me," she said, liking Tor's long face—it went well with his tall and lean frame.
"I think I recognize you," Tor said, squinting some in the dim coffee house, "…You look like a famous woman I've seen before."
"I hope you didn't have a run-in with my clone….The evil one, I mean."
His hand was still over hers, his finger on her pulse in the wrist, "…You didn't skip a beat when you said that, and so I think you're actually telling the truth," he let go and nodded, "…You have an evil clone somewhere?" After her smile and nodding, "…How do we know you're not the evil one," Tor glanced at Casnar.
"How do we know," Casnar added, giving Braith a sly smile.
"She was an asshole like me," Braith smarted back, "…But she doesn't have the same freckles as the original…One day it'll get published and you'll see both our corpses' comparisons in the Journal of CloneTech."
"I look forward to reading that publication," Tor removed his hand and straightened, "…People come in here for coffee and advice….What will it be for you both?"
"Where's the hospital entrance where they do autopsies of cadavers?"
Tor paused, making a quick check at Braith, "…Cadavers?"
"Don't ask," Casnar said, "…Do you know where to point us for imaging and such?"
"You want the south cliffs," Tor turned and pointed to a map on the wall, "…You'll find the techs there and it's funny you should know that," he rotated his head to see them over his shoulder, "…They are our Reaper specialists, and they do study the dead…You want something to take with you?"
"A cappuccino would be nice," Casnar ordered, "…and make hers an Irish whiskey."
They left Tor's coffee house with two cappuccinos to-go, and Braith looked suspiciously back and forth between the drell waving bye to them and Casnar's head.
"Who was he married to that was related to you, Casnar?"
"I would say he was more of a cousin-in-law, but he wasn't related to the family that was connected directly to me," Casnar said, "…He's a good drell though, and his son is quiet, even-tempered like Tor…I…My family had him working for them for a little, some more during the war…Good people….Fortunate what she left behind for my family to take advantage of…Surprised to see him all the way out here, and I wonder if his wife stayed behind or came with him…Must have come if his son's here, and that means Vykka, too," Casnar tapered off, reflective and thoughtful.
"You said 'she left behind'….Who do you mean if I can ask?"
"What, oh….My sister….She's the one."
"She left behind….Is she deceased?"
He stopped and turned his eyes to her, "…She's dead, yes, and I'd rather not discuss her beyond that allowance, Braith," he saw her accept this with her silence, "…Let's go have you looked at."
