Meeting on Fontana

[Bristol Constructions]

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Vascoguoncellos, Pantalião
Fontana Freeport, California System
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He wouldn’t have noticed the man if he hadn’t been exactly looking for him.

It was something of a cat-and-mouse method; of course, Vascoguoncellos wasn’t wearing any Bristol insignia or methods, no flight suit issued from age-old company stock that descended from surplus out of Rheinland, surplus out of Liberty, retrofitted civilian suits from a dozen origins or even a suit hailing from the times of Veracruz itself. No, he was wearing his own suit with his own coat over it, a faded red with steel buttons. Of course, the other wouldn’t be wearing anything that’d identify himself as a member of a group that claimed descent from the Commonwealth, nor affiliation with Harmony, not at somewhere like Fontana. And so, then, Vascoguoncellos wasn’t looking for anything like that. No, he was looking for someone who was, well…looking for someone.

Something of a cat-and-mouse game. The man snorted as he watched people trickle in and out. Most went to the bar, some looked about briefly before seeing a member of their little groups, some drank at the gambling tables with strangers. One guy did just seem to stand there for a moment, his eyes staring about the room. No insignia, nothing of that sort or another. If he was looking for someone specifically, then he wouldn’t make much move on Vascoguoncellos waving him over. If he was looking for someone specifically, but discretely, then they’d have a tell or another that Vascoguoncellos wouldn’t give, and he would still not make much move. And if he was looking for something different, well…that could be beaten out of him by the station security. The Bristol man didn’t have many, but he did have a few reliable enough hands on Fontana. All told, Pantalião figured it was as good a bet as any.

So, he waved the man over to his table.

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