Like all the best plans, Samson's effort to secure a computer began in the pub. After spending the night camped out at the drone factory, he and Harmony had descended the cliff and hiked back to town early the next morning. Both had business to attend to in Doddington, so agreed to meet back up at the pub in the evening. It was the same pub that had been raided a few nights previously, the owner abandoning the promise of live music and instead putting more tables into the area at the end of the bar. This was where the two explorers now sat, supping the local brew and mulling over their options.
The confiscated property section of the Department was in a rusty, but well fortified, former shipping container. It stood to one side of the Department's meagre training ground, itself surrounded by high fencing and the main building of the Technology Monitors. Scaling or cutting through the fence seemed the obvious route in, to Harmony at least, but Samson worried over the guard coverage and getting into the container itself. This was a debate that was going to need a few more beers.
It was Samson's round, so he pushed up from his seat and headed to the bar. This movement came at the same time as the door opening and a new figure entering. Samson stopped mid stride, the person was familiar but he couldn't place him. The new entrant to the bar headed to the bar and lent against it, saying something crude to the bargirl, that Samson didn't quite catch, and barking out a laugh.
Samson resumed the short walk to the bar and caught the eye of the bargirl, Dee, who said she'd be with him in a second.
"I know you?" the figure next to him at the bar spoke, presumably after going through the same partial recognition that Samson had experienced a few seconds previously.
"Don't think so" Samson wasn't too keen on the way the guy was intently staring at him.
"You look awful familiar"
"Get that a lot" Samson lied, being short with long dread-locks tended to stick out.
The other man thought it over a little more, during which time Dee slapped down his drink, then he announced "I've got it, you were here the other night, right? When the raid went down, think I may have kicked your drink over in the commotion" he mimed climbing up onto the bar
"Ohhh" Samson sighed in recognition "You're from the Department, right?"
"Yup, protecting the city, all in a day's work, y'know?" he said proudly, puffing out his chest, then taking a sip of the frothy drink.
"Uh-huh" Samson said noncommittally, hoping that Dee would hurry up with his drinks.
"Name's Pederson" a hand thrust under Samson's nose
"Er, Samson" he said, gingerly shaking the proffered appendage.
"So what you do around here then, Mr Samson?"
"I, er, do a bit of this and that" he shrugged, hoping to ward Pederson off with ambivalence. Thankfully Dee turned up with his and Harmony's next round. Samson slapped some faded currency on the bar and picked up the two chipped glasses.
But before he could make his escape, Pederson spoke again "So you here with your good lady?" he nodded from the pair of drinks toward Harmony, who was looking at the two of them in a quizzical fashion.
"She's not er...she's my, er, partner. Not that sort of partner. Business partner" Samson stumbled over his explanation caught as he was now in earshot of Pederson and Harmony.
"I see" Pederson said, moving forward to offer his hand to Harmony "Charmed" he said in what Samson saw as an unnatural attempt at suave sophistication, before the Department office plonked himself down next to her. Samson pulled an exasperated face at Harmony, who subtly mimed for him to stay calm. Then Samson got the hint from her, this was their opportunity to get at the confiscated tech, through the overly lascivious Pederson. An opportunity that had fallen into their laps.
Samson frowned. How convenient.
Pederson, it turned out, was a terrible undercover agent. It took all of three and a half drinks for him to admit that the Sheriff had instructed him to keep an eye on Samson. Given that Pederson was also of the school of the pub being the best place to form a plan, he'd started hanging out here, waiting for Samson to emerge back from the Wastes.
The reason why the Sheriff had wanted to track down Samson had caused both he and Harmony to laugh, the sound causing the other few patrons to look round at them. The Sheriff, already suspicious of Samson's record with his previous assistants, had grown even more alarmed when he'd been seen around town a few days previously buying rope. Samson had actually been honest with the manager of the general store when he said he intended to do some climbing with it, but this explanation had done nothing to placate the Sheriff when relayed back to her.
Away from the laughs it provided him, there were some mounting downsides to the Sheriff's close attention, especially if he did hope to secure a drone or two of his own. A small part of him (infinitesimal, he would unconvincingly insist to himself) was also concerned about how Harmony viewed him and his previous work. Time for some honesty.
The conversation had wound its way round Pederson's life history and his current work with the Department. He'd attempted to come across as a man of the world, talking about the radio communication he got to have with Millieville and other nearby towns through the course of his job. Samson had decided against pointing out that he really was a man of the world, rather than pretending to be one while huddled up in the Department communication room, farting around with the old analogue radio that the drones didn't seem fussed enough by to eradicate.
Pederson had gone on to talk about his knowledge of all the local brews, which seemed odd to Samson given the constable's lack of stomach for handling actually drinking them. The constable had even claimed at one point that Millieville had brewed a drink so strong that you saw pink gorillas after taking a swig. Samson could take no more, and spoke up.
"So, er, yeah. I've had a few odd things happen to me as well" it was an awkward start, unaccustomed as he was to drunken chats. He was much more of a sit in the corner and slump into a stupor kind of drinker.
"Yeah, you go through assistants quicker than the Sheriff goes through moody looks" Pederson tried to slap him on the shoulder at this, missed and nearly fell of his chair.
"Sort of" said Samson "But not like you think"
Pederson was about to try another comment, but a withering look from Harmony stopped him, "How so?" she asked Samson.
"I don't er, I mean they don't. I'm not a..."
"Spit it out man! This is like waiting for the Sheriff to finish a lecture about the dangers of technology" Pederson urged impatiently. Harmony went to slap him on the shoulder; she didn't miss. After a pained yelp, Pederson sat in silence rubbing his upper arm.
"Go on" Harmony was almost caring in her tone.
"They're not dead"
"Who?"
"My previous assistants. Well, one is. Jorge. The first. But after him, no others."
"I don't understand" Harmony asked "Everyone knows about your record. Was how I squeezed such a good wage from ya. Well, that and you'd never dare mess with me"
"Yeah, that's the downside of my reputation. But the upside was worth it, the privacy it gave me. Also, the fear, the respect it brought in certain quarters"
"Like with the council?"
Samson nodded "I was both taking away undesirable townsfolk and was seen as dedicated in my business"
"So what happened to them all?"
"Numbers got exaggerated in the retelling, there was only ever five. You were the sixth"
"And them?"
"Jorge I still regret. Was a dumb move on my part, to only have him throw the one phone. I know it doesn't make up for it, but I still send a portion of what I make selling scavenge to his mum and brother"
"Or, as the Sheriff tells it, you're paying them hush money" Pederson decided to risk speaking up again. "Not that she can get the old woman to sell you out"
"So what about the others?" Harmony attempted to move the conversation along.
"Not much to say really. I was hiring the dregs of society, they were cheaper, they didn't ask questions. Some grew tired of me, I grew tired of others. They all moved on. Nothing tying them to sleepy Doddington so with a bit of cash in their pockets they headed off" he shrugged "suited all parties".
"I don't buy it" Pederson declared "Too neat"
"Well, you've been with the Sheriff for a while now. She's a strong personality to stand up to" Samson decided to start pulling some of the constable's strings, see what unraveled. Unfortunately for him, the only person unraveling at that point was Harmony.
"Oi!" she said, backhand to his arm felt like being hit with a spade.
"What?"
"You hire the dregs of society, well drakk you" she stood up "Just when I was thinking you might not be quite such an arse after all"
"Harmony, please, let me explain"
She frowned for a second, then simply said "Ok" and sat back down
"Really?"
"Really what?" Harmony looked quizzical
"You're prepared to sit and listen to my explanation? Usually this is the point the wronged person storms off and a series of unfortunate events then drives them further apart, before a tearful reunion later on" words tumbled from Samson.
Pederson looked dumbfounded, Harmony amused. She said "You read too many trashy books"
"A guilty pleasure" hands held up in surrender.
"Weirdo" muttered Pederson, knocking back his drink, dribble down his chin.
"Back to the subject of the dregs of society?" Harmony raised her eyebrows
"Look Harmony" Samson explained "I'm not gonna sit here and say you came with glowing references" he inadvertently braced himself for a strike that, thankfully, never came. He continued "I got to hear 'bout a woman, kept her self to her self apart from when she'd had a few too many on a Friday night, when all hell would brake loose"
"I never started those fights" she said defensively.
"Well, one time, you smacked a councilor's nephew round a bit. It was made clear to me that it'd be appreciated if you were in town a bit less"
"Oh"
"So you see? Your not a dreg. Not to me, anyway" Samson looked down at the table, dread-locks hanging over his face, aware he'd drifted dangerously close to soppy.
For once, Samson was actually grateful for Pederson's interjection "Talking of dregs, more drinks, bar-keep" he thrust his empty glass in the air, before standing unsteadily to weave his way to the bar, despite it being a straight line away.
Harmony took the opportunity to lean close to Samson's ear "We gonna do this, then?"
For a split second he wondered what she meant, then glanced up to see that she was indicating Pederson. "I thought using him to get to the store was a bit too obvious. Bound to have the Sheriff snooping round"
"Who will care 'bout the Sheriff when you're riding a drakking war-drone down main street?" she smiled, although it was a smile with more than a hint of debatable intentions.
"When you put it like that..." Samson stood, straightened his jacket (although the rip in the shoulder from the cliff climb ruined the look a little) then headed to the bar. "Triples all round, he instructed Dee, the bar-girl making no attempt to hide the exasperation in her look.
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