Rochester Inn

[Knuthetal]

Noam heard a giggle and looked up from his book. "Perhaps that girl could make it yet.", he thought. Slowly, his focus shifted to the blue-eyed, black-haired, short drinker of a girl again. Well, she was more drunk now, but she also seemed... happier? Was that how it worked? Something was scratching at the back of his mind, trying to get his attention... the tattoo. She was a Lane Hacker, all right. That, or she wanted to appear as such.

He sipped his tea, thinking. Was she a spy? Then again, if she was faking, she wasn't faking the drinking part. If there's a good time to find out, it's now - slowed reflexes, the whole pack - he could easily run away, if need be. He eyed the girl again, and noticed the uncomfortable looks she gave to the cyborg - so there he was! but not important at the moment - how odd. For someone with such cold eyes - even through the ale haze - she could have very well be a machine herself.

"It's dangerous," he thought, "but well worth it.". Opportunity rarely knocks twice, now does it? He needs to get in touch with the Lane Hackers. If he hesitates now, even if he does move, he won't be able to find the words. Time was running out - he made a decision, packed his book, took the tea in his hand, and approached the girl. One last panicked thought clawed at him - "How does one greet a girl, again?", an engineer's answer flashed - "Keep it simple, stupid!", and there he was.

"Greetings. The name's Noam. That tattoo there - is that what I think it is?"

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