Legwork in Refugium

The men reconvene in the safety of the car, sheltered from the cameras. Dan does not like the place “They watch us. Every step, someone is watching us. With those cameras. They hide something, in there.” The others do not share his deep distrust. Mal says “We are about as smart as before. But with some luck, we’ll meet their leader tomorrow. Maybe he will let something slip.” Rod concurs “And until then, we should pay the settlement another visit, and talk to the locals. I’ll offer my services, maybe a grateful customer will tell me something useful. You could visit the two hotels and ask around for guests that were more noteworthy than the rest.”

The Conquistador rumbles down the incline back into the square. As soon as the car comes to a stop, Rod begins his routine of offering help and succor to the sick, the weak and the wounded, promising the merciful benefactor’s well-schooled eye and deft fingers as a remedy whatever ails the good people of Refugium. In most settlements, there would be a queue of the desperate and hurting after few minutes – here, it takes about a quarter of an hour before a supplicant turns up. A worried mother asks Rod to follow her to the bedside of her sick child. While the young parents look on, Rod quickly diagnoses a common pediatric disease. It does not take much time, nor more than a modicum of his skill to bring relief to the sweating boy. He tells the parents what to do during the next days and also inquires why they did not go to the monks to help them. The grateful young man is a bit embarrassed “If it had become any worse, I would have gone up to Brother Chaucer. But the monks do not heal people for free – it would have cost me quite a bit of the next harvest. And then Marge found out that you were here.” Rod really seems to be the first benefactor visiting Refugium after a long time, and maybe more frequent visits would be a good idea. At the moment, there seem to be other visitors in town: A single, wild-looking biker at Sue Snell’s and a group of explorers at Dago’s. “But they left before the finished their business with Chaucer, and left their stuff with Dago, or so I’ve heard.” While Rod firmly refuses payment in scripts, the mother still is able to thrust a packet of food into his hands “It’s the least we can do.” When the others hear of the single traveler, they become suspicious - The other false benefactors also traveled alone. They are prepared for bloodshed when they enter Sue Snell’s establishment, a cleanly, spacious place, its furnishings scavenged from some roadside diner and lovingly maintained. Their fears are unfounded: While the man seems to be accustomed to violence, they quickly rule out the possibility that he is the one they are looking for. He is just a drifter making his way across the Desert Heart who bought the answer to a rather difficult question and is just waiting for the monks to supply an answer. That leaves the other group – the men saunter over to Dago’s. They soon realize while this is the second-best place to stay in Refugium. The whole building smells of bad cooking, the sleeping cots are nearly on top of each other. To Rod it seems that insects scamper away at every single step. The ho’teller himself is a nasty little runt, complaining about the group of four which rented cots for three days an then just vanished without making the final payment. They left some of their equipment – sleeping bags, clothes, a few books – and Dago sees it as right and proper to sell of these things to cover for the lost earnings. The three men and their female companion told him that they would pay the close ruins of Bakersfield a visit “but they definitely skipped town. Probably lost interest in the research they sponsored, and thus not only scammed not only me, but also the honorable monks. They’ve been gone for two days now – probably sitting in Holy Flame City drinking away the scripts they owe me.” The longer the explorers listen to Dago’s justifications for trying to sell the equipment, the stronger becomes their feeling that the other group is missing in Bakersfield. It is early afternoon by now. still lots of light to burn till sundown. Mal interrupts the ho’teller’s stream of recrimination “Listen, Dago, how about a deal. A proposition. This Bakersfield, is it far from here?” “Oh no, about twenty klicks from where we stand. In the early days, we even got some of our building materials from there. Just go the road towards Goodwater and turn left and the first crossing, going west. It’s a blacktop from the old days. Your car – a most magnificent ride, if I may say so – would have no problem there, while the jumper of those thieves...” “Yeah, I might have an offer for you. We too have some time to kill. What if we go to Bakersfield. If your guests aren’t there, they have most likely skipped town, and you would be justly entitled to their stuff.” “As it’s right and proper.” “And we would be entitled of a cut, making sure that everything is right and proper.” Again, some fierce haggling occurs. But finally, a deal is cut, and the Conquistador leaves Refugium, back on the old route.