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  No, he was going to need a better plan than that, if he wanted to end it all. In the moment he needed to show that he was mentally sound enough not to focus on too much, so his manager, who was probably his second best friend, given that she actually gave two thoughts about him, wouldn’t figure out his clever plan.

  Putting his right hand out, he waited for the device to be handed over to him. He figured it was going to be a bit less than perfectly pleasant. He was right, of course. Serro, being clever like she was, looked surprised at first. Then she activated the thing before grabbing his left arm and holding the white, softly shining tile to the back of his hand. Holding him in place, so he couldn’t get away.

  Part of him wanted to shake her off. The rest couldn’t move, when the rather ridiculous amount of pain hit him. It came from inside, mainly. There had been some bumps and bruises that a drinking life had handed to him over the last weeks. Including from his shower, earlier. Things that hadn’t really healed totally, on their own yet. Those flared a bit as his body fought suddenly to heal at several hundred times faster a rate than normal. More than that, he thought. No one had ever worked it out exactly.

  There was a lot of burning from his liver though, inside on the right. Under his lungs. Those weren’t perfect either, seeming to be set on fire for some reason, as well. His heart beat incredibly fast. Enough that, for a moment, he wondered if he was going to die from the magic in play. That could happen, if a person were dissipated enough, or so he’d heard. You needed energy to make the magic work. If you didn’t have it, the amulet would destroy you, trying to do its job anyway.

  Instead, the pain of healing just faded, over the course of five minutes or so. His head hurt massively until the last minute, when it cleared and he was, more or less, fine. Better than that. He wasn’t even tired any longer. Also, for the first time in months, he was honestly sober. A thing he didn’t really love. He felt better, physically. That didn’t make him happier, of course. He felt about the same as always, that way.

  As if he might just be a less than valuable person. He also noticed that almost everyone in the room was staring at him. That left him feeling self-conscious, which wouldn’t have happened if he’d been drunk, like on a proper evening.

  The trick of the moment was making it seem like he didn’t want to die though. If he could see that about himself, then Serro and the others probably had it down as well. That the woman was holding on to his hand still, pressing the tile to it, meant she’d figured he was close to something bad, at the very least. As in, that he might just die soon. Which was gone now, if it had been the case.

  “I should be good, now. Thanks.” He didn't mean it, but faking that kind of thing was easier without the booze in his system. Drinking let him do many things that were hard for him, normally. Like run his mouth, dance without feeling like a fool and even talking to people he didn’t know. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t do all of those things anyway, but it was harder for him.

  He could get drunk later, to get things flowing back toward normal. In the moment he really didn't need that kind of thing. He wanted it, of course. So much so that he could taste it on his lips, even if nothing was there. Albert smiled though and started to sweep. It was his job, for the moment.

  Serro stood back, tapping the front of the magical healing amulet, placing it back into the pocket of her shining green top. It was like metal, if that mineral complex had been carefully polished to a mirror like finish. Everything about her was impressive, really.

  “Now, you just have to not drink any more and stop with the drugs totally. It’s already improved your work ethic. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a hard worker or something, even. Why, any day now you’ll be off to do that new job you were just talking about.” She grinned then, knowing it wouldn’t be happening.

  Except that Albert kind of felt like it should. The trouble was that there was nothing to do that he also could manage. He was a decent hand with a hammer, and wasn’t truly terrible with sweeping, if he was actually going to do it. The problem was that he lacked in any kind of real education to do anything else. When he’d been young, he’d apprenticed with his father, learning to make carts and wagons.

  That people used magic for that kind of thing now was more or less true. Not a hundred percent, but enough to show that going into that kind of a trade for a living would be stupid of him. Plus, it would mean moving back to Earth, for that to be a real thing at all. He didn't hate it there, but you had to make your own way, still. On the Moon you had food, clothing, and even magical shields and a hundred other nice things simply given to you. All anyone asked was that you tried, in some way, to do what work you could.

  Except that everyone else was doing that, too.

  The best jobs went to the intelligent and motivated people. Even there at The Eternal it happened that way. Serro wasn’t the manager just because she’d gotten there first or was pretty, even if both things were true. She was actually good at her job. Jeffery was a lot more than simply a competent bartender.

  Al was… adequate at caring for floors. Then, out of everyone there that day, he was truly the odd man out. The one that the others had to care for, as if he were a tiny child. That or a pet. Possibly a mascot, like some schools had on Earth. It wasn’t a thing that he loved. He simply didn’t have a clue what else to do with himself. The part of him that could have been a real man, taking responsibility for others, was simply broken.

  Fixing that wasn’t a thing he knew how to do, yet.

  Checking the jobs board came to mind. Things didn't come up every day. Or if they did, they tended to be the kind of stuff no one wanted to do. Making water by being a dust loader or working in waste management. Those were real jobs, important but even on the Moon they kind of weren’t that pleasant to do. Most people wanted more from their life than being a trash man, for some reason. Which was a shame, since that job was important. Even on the Moon.

  To Albert, those things just sounded boring. Mind numbing, really.

  Almost everything did. To that end, he pushed the broom around the room. Doing a good enough job that the floor, which was pretty tidy to start with, gave up the bit of dust that it held on the smooth white stone. Just before they opened officially for the night, at seven, he managed to mop a few spots that would have been sticky, due to spilled drinks. After that…

  Well, party going on or not, music thumping and pulsing in the Austran style, Albert felt his soul slowly draining out. There were hundreds of bodies, each dressed to make an impression. He was still in brown. The plain base outfit that the clothing amulets made. It signaled everyone in the room that the skinny bag of bones walking around wasn’t there to be fun or interesting. No one did more than nod in his direction, which was nice. A few of the women actually skittered back, when he walked past them, or danced, when they were too near.

  He could have taken offense, but didn’t bother. They were safe, after all. He wasn’t great looking, but that day he was clean and his hair, while too long, was brushed and didn’t look matted or like it would carry diseases.

  It meant that these women were just the ones who thought they were too good for him. On a level that was probably not totally sane on their part. Not that they weren’t better than him. He was a drunk whose manager had to save from almost dying on her watch. That wasn’t good husband material. Really, he wasn’t even going to be good for a single night of pleasure. Not given the fact that he really wanted a drink a lot worse than he wanted to have company that night. It was simply that none of that was truly visible from the outside. Imagining him to be a bad and worthless person wasn’t entirely clear head. Not until they met him at least, when that kind of judgment would simply be prudent.

  To distract himself from that fact, for a few minutes at least, Albert started to wipe down tables, and cleaned up the spilled drinks as they happened. It was hard. Not the work, which was just boring, almost being stepped on by dancers as he mopped and used small towels to soak up the red
olent drinks. It was simply that most of them made him want to have one of his own.

  A thing he was allowed to do, there. At least no one had tried to make him hide that sort of thing in the past. It was an act of will not to do it. Really, he figured that it was the better part of valor to get through his shift in a sober condition. His work was a lot better, if nothing else. No one noticed that part, of course. Except that they didn’t end up standing in puddles or with the room stinking of alcohol.

  The scent of alcohol nearly broke his will, half a dozen times.

  At four in the morning they got to close the doors. Early on, in the first year of the place being open, they’d tried to have it staffed all day and night. The idea was to hold a never-ending party or festival. Hence the name of the club. Eternal. That hadn’t really worked. Most days they’d been forced to go in and dance while it was daytime, in order to try and keep the flow going. Finally, two years before, they'd gotten the idea and simply opened when the people would be coming anyway.

  Serro waved at them all as soon as the door was shut. It wasn’t locked, though no one tried to come in after being asked to leave. They could get drunk at home if they wanted. If it was their plan, they could go to one of the whore houses to get laid. They worked for free, after all, and would service almost anyone.

  Albert was tired and ready for that drink. More than just a desire, there was a call to him that caused his very soul to vibrate in resonance. The treat that he’d sort of promised himself if he managed to stay sober for nearly ten hours. He could nearly taste it as he started from the back of the large chamber, the regular lights coming on, heading to the bar, before they closed it all up for the night.

  Meaning he nearly didn’t notice the handheld on the floor, against the side wall, glowing blue with a nimbus of light. Meaning someone was trying to call it. Also, that whoever it belonged to had set the thing for silent mode. Which made sense, given that it was impossible to hear anything of note other than banging and thumping when the music was playing. It was too loud in the club, if you couldn’t mute things in some way. People liked it that way, for some reason.

  It had left Albert feeling a little ill, given he’d been sober enough to notice it that night. It made the whole job a lot less fun, even if he did it to a much higher level.

  The person calling on the communications unit that was resting on the floor next to the wall on the right, didn’t give up like a normal person would have. Albert really wanted to just leave the thing there, even if the rule was that anything found had to go into the box at the bar. That way people could find it the next day, if they ever bothered to come back and look for it. About half did. People liked their stuff, even if getting more was free. That took work though. Handhelds were complicated devices and if you lost yours, all your settings were going to be lost as well.

  The same was true of all your pictures and information you had stored in the thing.

  That would be annoying. Instead of doing the smart thing and just taking the glowing device, about half the size of his hand, to the front desk, he tabbed it on. The plan…

  Really, he didn't have one at all. Acting without thinking was half of how he got through life, so it wasn’t a big shock to him that he’d done something that silly.

  Almost instantly a man dressed in white, who had light brown hair and a tough look about him, smiled. The angle made it seem as if he were looking up at Albert, from the palm of his right hand.

  “Sorry. I was trying for High Servant Derret. I must have aimed wrong…” The man seemed to be about to tab off when Albert spoke.

  Again, acting without thinking. It meant he had to talk to the man. To try and help him find his friend, if he could manage it. Like a good person might do.

  “This is probably the right one. Not that I’ve seen a High Servant tonight. Then, this is a dance club, so I probably wouldn’t, right? They’d change before coming in… I just found this device resting on the floor against the wall.” He stopped, thinking about what the man, who had a Noram accent, might need to know. The High Servants were all from there, after all. “Um, this is The Eternal, in Second City, on the Moon.” His voice wanted to go into a question at the end, as if the man might not understand where Second City was.

  As soon as he spoke, Albert was pleased he’d kept that tone out of his voice. It clearly would have been rude, the man understanding things instantly.

  “Arg. Right. So now I get to have a man hunt for yet another errant High Servant. That’s nearly half of them, right now. Also, I need to find someone to go into Ross to make sure the fire fighters there have food and water. I don’t suppose you have time, do you?” The man was clearly joking.

  Albert could tell, due to the smile on his face. He did it back, not really meaning it.

  “I have a day or two. Just a warning, I’m a drunk that works here at the club, sweeping floors. I wouldn’t even be sober right now but I think my boss is telling me something. At least she hit me with a healing amulet when I came in tonight. So, don’t let the sober good looks fool you, I’m totally unreliable.” It was supposed to be funny, though admitting to that fact left him feeling a bit poorly about himself.

  The man on the device just shrugged.

  “So, basically like a real High Servant? Except that you haven’t screamed at me, or disconnected the communication, yet. I’m against a wall here and those people really do need help. As it stands, I’m about to have to beg Tim Baker to go and do it for me. Everyone else is either missing or working the Soam problem.” The man just stared for a bit, as if willing Albert to do something about the problem at hand. So he wouldn’t have to call and beg aid from one of the most famous wizards in existence.

  It was an awful idea. Still, he’d been thinking about doing something to be a bit more useful in life. Then this came up. If he ignored it, then he might just be spitting in the face of fate. Again. Doing that too many times might not be a good plan. Even if his goal was to die, he didn’t need to be rude about it.

  “I’m… I guess I can do that. I don’t know how to get that done, to be honest. Also, I wasn’t joking about me being unreliable. I mean, I wouldn’t trust me with something important.”

  There was a soft nod from the man.

  “I understand. Still, there’s pretty much no one else available at all. We have the amulets and magics needed at the High Servant’s Depot. That’s in County Thorgood. You’re near a transport hut?”

  He wasn’t really. Sticking his tongue out, thinking, he blew some air past it.

  “No? I’ll need to get to the port here for that, that will take about an hour. I have to walk. Then… I can get there. How do I get in? Tell them that some man on a random handheld told me to do it?” It was his turn to joke again, the man actually smiling as if he took it as being funny.

  “Just about. Tell them High Servant Commander Johan put you in charge of the relief effort and if they don’t help you with it, you have leave to have them put to death? That normally works. Oh, I’m Johan, by the way, in case you need to get in touch to prove you aren’t just stealing things from the woman in charge there. Martha. She’s actually not bad, for one of us. Get what you need from her and talk to Count Ross. He’ll be out on the fighting line, most likely. You might have to call around for that, to get to the right place…” The man looked up, a voice coming from the background. When he spoke next he sounded just a bit annoyed. “Um… I hate to dump this on the first random stranger I talked to, but I literally have nothing else at the moment. Um, help? Just… Call on anyone you need and drop my name, if there’s a problem. That probably won’t work, but it’s better than doing nothing. These people need us. There’s no one else willing to do anything.” The last words actually seemed heartfelt, instead of cheery or glib.

  Then the device went dark. The other man not having his name at all. That meant, after dropping the device off at the bar, he could just grab a drink and go home for the day, watching shows on the in-wall screen and wasting hi
s life. Instead of doing something hard like going to Earth. Especially if he had to speak to strangers and then find a Count to bother. That kind of thing, dealing with nobles, was always a bad plan. Not that he’d done a lot of it in his life.

  Not that he knew about. There had been that one woman, of course.

  Thinking of her got him to frown, as he walked to the front of the club. Serro noticed his expression and moved to the bar, meeting him there as Jeffery walked over, a rag in his hand. He’d actually been cleaning, since they were all supposed to do that at the end of the night.

  It was Serro that spoke first.

  “Is something wrong? I know I came on a little strong earlier. I just worry about you.” She patted his hand, noticing the handheld there. He waved that a bit.

  “I found this along the wall, near the back. It was glowing, so I answered it. That’s always a mistake, you know? It was a High Servant, looking for another of that sort. Um… A High Servant Derret or Dorret. Something like that. The one talking to me was their commander, Johan. I… He needs me to go and deliver some magics to County Ross. I guess they’re having fires there again? I didn't promise anything, but I should… I don’t know… Pass this along to one of you?” He meant the duty of the day, though Jeffery simply took the handheld and put it in the box behind the counter they had for such things.

  “Got it. For a High Servant. Deret or Dorret? I’ll make a note about that, since we have some information for once. When do you think you’ll be back? You have the next two days off, right?” He looked at Serro, not Albert.

  Which made sense, given that only two of them knew that kind of thing and none of them with that knowledge were him. She nodded though, as if that was simply correct. Considering that he only worked three or four days a week, it wasn’t a huge surprise. He’d been on for two days in a row, after all.