The Schottenhamel tent was abuzz with the lively atmosphere of alcoholic intake. It was the same general celebratory atmosphere you get from a nice, social bar, on a scale the size of a football field. Period-dressed barmaids lugged enormous, froth-topped glass steins, four-a-hand, expertly navigating the swaying flow of the crowd with a cheery disposition. It had only been half-an-hour since the mayor of Munich, Christian Ude, had tapped the traditional first keg, declaring "O’zapft is!” to start the world-famous festival...
"Damn...check the forearms on these women...." Ozzy commented, finally downing his second mug.
"They seem to be well-equipped for this line of work...." Adem replied, still sipping his first brew. Every so often he would, for no apparent reason, sniff the beer, as if waiting for it to suddenly go sour.
"So..." Mitzi asked, sitting between the men. "...vat is the purpose of Vanguard's presence today? Are you here for security reasons, or...."
"Let me tell you, Mitzi..." Ozzy began sincerly, a grave look of professionalism overcoming his face. "....we were sent here to make sure...without a doubt...that as much alcohol is consumed as humanly...."
He paused, looking at Adem sniffing his beer.
"...and as inhumanely as possible...." he continued. "Vanguard is dedicated in seeing that such a proud German tradition is never sullied by weak stomachs that cannot handle their fair share of beer. We strongly oppose not drinking, and will uphold the people of Munich's reputation of alcoholic consumption by drinking as much beer as we can, before passing out, and forcing someone to carry us home..."
"You honor my city with your bravery...." Mitzi nodded, her solemn expression matching Ozzy's serious tone.
It was a moment before Ozzy finally broke a smile, looking at the reporter with a wry grin.
"You realize I was being sarcastic, right?" he asked.
She half-grinned, never losing their eye-to-eye contact.
"...as was I...." she drolled.
Ozzy stared briefly, immediately bursting into a sheepish chuckle.
"Damn...egg on my face..."
"Why?", her voice responded, breaking into a light rendition of a stereotypical, mock-innocence. "Don't you know ve German women are everything you've ever seen in ze James Bond films?"
"Point taken...." Baxter nodded, turning to accept the new drink a barmaid had just set down for him. Adem continued to smell his beer more than actually drink.
"Now, vhy is Vanguard here?" she asked again.
"We're off-duty, if that's what you are getting at..." Baxter exlained. "...this is simlply downtime for us."
"Recooperation from ze 'Brood' epidemic, last week?"
Ozzy stopped, cocking his eye at her.
"How did you know about that?" Baxter asked. "I mean, I know the 'Brood' plague is public knowledge. But, Vanguard's part in that recovery operation was supposed to be played down in the media..."
"And it was..." Mitzi relplied. "....however, I have been a journalist since I vas eighteen. I know how to read between the lines."
Baxter looked at her with a studying glance.
"Now...you realize...everything I've said here today is strictly off-the-record, right?"
"Oh, of course, Ozzy..." she nodded. "...I, too, am simply here to enjoy myself."
Baxter stared at her a bit more, something uneasy settling in his gut. Mitzi smiled, but it did not make him feel any better.
"So, tell me...Adam, right?" she began, turning to Different.
"...'Ah-Dem', actually..." he replied, taking another deep inhale of his beer.
"Oh, of course, Adem..." she nodded. "...why do you keep smelling your drink? Is it not to your liking?"
"Oh, not at all. I find it a rather refreshing caliber of alcohol." he answered sincerly. "However, my olfactory system is severly advanced compared to humans....my people reach intoxication by sense of smell, rather than purely by taste or consumption."
"I zee..." she nodded, seemingly fascinated. "...and, how exactly does that work?"
As Different began to explain the science behind his biology, Baxter sat watching them, drinking in silence.
Something was wrong. He didn't know what, but, his gut feeling told him so. Usually, Baxter would barrel into any situation, his gut-instincts taking a backseat to impetuousness.
Unless he was in the ring. That was all instinct.
Maybe it was the beer. Maybe something about him had changed. He didn't know, nor did he care. Something was wrong.
Baxter pulled his cell phone from his pocket, hitting a few auto-dial buttons. He generally hated cell phones, finding them more of a nuisance than anything. Still, when Penny had assigned him a company cell, the first pre-programmed number that was set was, of course, the company line itself.
'You have reached the Munich office of Vanguard International, European Division....this is Jym. How may I direct your call?'
"Jym, this is Ozzy...."
'Hello Ozzy...how may I direct your call?'
"Listen, are you still linked to Adem right now?"
'I am always linked to Adem. It is the curse of my existence, you understand.'
"Do a quick scan of the three nearest bodies to him...." Baxter insisted quietly. "....specifically the female he is talking to at the moment...."
'What should I be scanning for?'
"Anything...unusual...."
'One moment...'
And, even as Adem continued to explain himself to Mitzi, a small blue light began blinking on his inside wrist, as Jym did a low-level bio-scan of each person near him.
"Well?" Ozzy asked, after a moment.
'Adem is .0000000067% poisoned with alcoholic intoxication, and rising.....you are .0000000098% poisoned with alcoholic intoxication, and rising.....and you will have severe gas later tonight, due to an intolerance in your system for barley....'
"Yeah, yeah...and the girl?"
'....the female is .0000000008% poisoned with alcoholic intoxication, as well as bearing slight blemishes to her lungs from light tobacco smoking.....she has three chicken pox scars lining her lower hip, slight lower back strain prevalent in 89% of human society, a cavity forming in the back, right cuspid...'
"Okay...okay....anything else?" Ozzy asked.
'...she is currently on her period....'
"...oh my god..." Ozzy grimaced, turning away from the phone in slight disgust.
'....and she is wearing a recording device....'
"...what?" Ozzy quickly snapped back to focus.
'...she is wearing a recordi---'
"Yeah, yeah, where?" he interrupted.
'It is strapped between her cleavage, wrapping around her back.'
Ozzy clicked the phone off, turning back to the two people next to him. He quickly clamped his palm against her back, immediately feeling the wire running along her back. This grabbed her attention, even as indestructible fingers began squeezing the wire, fraying the copper interior....crushing it...
"Vat are you doing?!" she exclaimed, trying to turn around, even as he held onto the wire.
"Fucking reporters!" Ozzy barked, finally feeling the wire snap. "It isn't enough that Paragon releases official statements to the press....you have to invade our privacy to get some kind of 'scoop', huh?!"
Her face immediately went rock-solid, staring at the man with disdain.
"You are news, just like anything else...." she snapped, quickly getting to her feet. "...just because you and your kind hide behind this pretense of helping, doesn't mean we trust you."
"And just because you nosy fuckers think you have a right to every facet of personal privacy, doesn't mean we have to surrender to your scrutiny!" Ozzy retorted.
Adem watched this, finally lifting his wrist to his mouth.
"...magnetic pulse, five decibel-meters....now..." he said to Jym.
A slight sizzle of sound, and Mitz yelped, trying to rip the tiny recording mic from the wiring of her bra. Even as she pulled the long cord out from her cleavage, a light drizzle of smoke came from the device.
The reporter fumed, knowing that she had lost everything that had been recorded.
"You have no right!" she snapped, trying not to bring attention to this little exchange.
Not that anyone noticed. The noise level in the tent was nearly deafening now.
"As much as you do, spying on us without our consent." Adem explained.
She looked between the two men, finally huffing with annoyance.
"I'm going to sue your company for everything you've got..." she hissed, walking quickly away.
"Fuck off!" Baxter yelled after her.
After a moment, he finally sat down with Adem, both men silent for a bit.
"Fuck off?" Adem began. "That's all you had?"
"Shut up."
"That's your big send-off? Fuck off?" Different continued. "Not 'Bring it', or, 'We'll see about that', or, even, 'I'll see you in court'...."
"Shut up, Adem..."
"...just Fuck Off, huh?"
Ozzy looked at Adem, the alien grinning a bit.
"...oh, sniff your beer...."
