5.
 "Maggner Eon, you have returned." Amid the steam and pounding, the old man's white face echoed the memory of human concern, a husk of emotion, a shadow of caring.
"No, I just came to cash out."
"You look beaten, Maggner."
"I am, dammit, but I haven't lost my soul. Pay me, and it's the last you'll ever see of me."
"I'd like to buy that harp."
The girl rumpled her face at the sight of his maggner's overalls. "You're the fellow that came in earlier. When we had the fire. Cried about the harp." She said it as though he were crazy. There was a trace of fear in her voice.
"Sure, sister, here's my money. No time for talk."
"Very well then, would you like it wrapped? It's a fine Noma-class, very elegant."
"I'm sure."
She registered the transaction on her CredEx. "So you're taking up music?"
"You might say that."
Incredulity: "Under the Bridge?"
"No, I'm leaving on the evening shuttle up-Bridge. Cashed out, going somewhere big."
The girl nodded as she muscled the heavy instrument over the counter. "Well, here it is. Its name is Noma."
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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