Rochester Inn

[Knuth--NF]

A young man came into the bar, though he looked more like an animated corpse. His skin was pale and paper-thin. A pair of reflective goggles covered his eyes, resting safely above the protruding cheekbones. He wore a white, beaming lab-coat which was only a shade brighter than his face. The hands were covered by a pair of dark kevlar gloves, ending just below the fingertips.

Damn, he thought. No ship, no money, no contacts... but it was worth it, was it not? The operation had succeeded, however scarring. No use complaining, then. He would rest, maybe try getting in touch with the Lane Hackers again - once he at least had a ship, that is. Until then, he could work from here, as he once did.

Wearily, he sat at the table with Professor Lanakov.

"Hello, it's been a while. Our plan... well, it worked, though not without incident. Perhaps later I'll... but how have you been, my friend?"