The Man With Two Eyes's Story

A stranger walked into Gambit's Bar in remarkable fashion. Unlike many of the patrons, he wore no armor nor did he carry any weapons. His attire was bland and forgettable; a simple two-piece cotton suit ornamented with a fat, burgundy neck-tie. His skin was dark and wrinkled, his hair short and frosted with age. He walked slowly and calmly, the humble strut of a proletariat who's just been released from work. He was not handsome. He had no scars. No distinguishable markings or trinkets. Indeed, the only think remarkable about this man was how unremarkable his entrance had been.

Except for his eyes.

Yes. His eyes. His eyes eyes eyes. There two of them. Two eyes. Two. The right was hazel, the left was blue. Hazel and blue. Hazel and blue. They were beautiful. And they were so damn beautiful you thought something would just come out of them. Like a bird. Or a worm! Yes. A worm. You didn't know why. You didn't know why you thought a worm would come out of a man's eye, but you did. There was just something. Something about those eyes. Something about those goddamn eyes. Those eyes. Those eyeseyeseyeseyeseyeseyes

He smiled. It was a calm, warm smile; the sort of affectionate grin a proud old man might give his grandchildren. Walking up to the bar, the stranger approached Kazen, Sangrei and Lily. He cleared his throat.

"Pardon me," he interrupted reluctantly, his voice deep and oiled with age, "but I'm looking for a particular patron this evening. A young woman by the name of 'Lyrah'. Has she come in today?"

The stranger laughed, the sound pleasing to the ear and saturated in good-natured will. "Well thank you, but I'm afraid I really ought to be looking for her. Besides, I'm no good with bar-side conversation. They always go arseways because I'm never wide enough." The stranger chuckled as he attempted to Irish slang, but the sheer professionalism with which he said it made the words anything but authentic. He seemed to know it too. "Sorry. But we can't all be Irish, much as we wish we could."

It was then that the stranger noticed Lyrah sitting in her stool, a strange robot at her side. Excusing himself from the party, the stranger walked over to the woman.

"Hello!" he smiled, "you must Lyrah Tremain?" He rolled his eyes. "What am I saying? Of course you are! You even have one of your models with you!" The man smiled warmly at the bodyguard robot, offering it his hand. "How do you do?"

"Remarkable!" the stranger praised, as if the mere sight of the robot were a wonder in itself. "I've heard a lot about your work from my good friend Dr. Dmitrik. He bought one of your models a few months ago and it's been serving him in his home flawlessly." The name 'Dmitrik' might ring a bell. Raskolnikov Dmitrik was the head dean at the Terran National University. Very rich.

"I was hoping to inquire about your other models," the stranger nodded, "I'm a literature professor down at TNU. Do you have any models that can be useful teaching aids? Y'know... collect papers. Distribute books. Perhaps even GRADE papers, if the intelligence is high enough. My, that would be wonderful!"

"That's precisely why I was asking, actually," the professor smiled, "I lost my home to the Aschen. I know the fighting has died down quite a bit, but you can never be too sure. A little extra protection goes a long way."

The man cleared his throat, still eyeing the VANA curiously. "I'm quite interested in purchasing one of your combat models. How much do you charge for a standard CROSS unit?"

"400,000 credits? Seems like a fair price," the professor nodded, "do you mind if I pay you in cash? I'm afraid I forgot my checkbook at home." The man was reaching into his pockets for his wallet. Four hundred thousand dollars in bills? This ought to be interesting.

"I can pay you in advance here, if you like. How soon can you get it to me?"

"This address!" the professor smiled, quickly jotting down the numbers for Lyrah and passing it to her. If I'm not there, just go ahead and leave it at the front door. There's a good chance I'll be away for the next couple of days. Is there any paperwork I should get out of the way?"

"Would it be alright if I have one of my maids pick it up, then?" the man offered, "there's a good chance I won't be there in the morning. I can get all the paperwork done whenever it's most conveniant for both of us."

The professor clapped his hands. "How exciting! I've never owned a battle-droid. Do you know any good places where I can test it out? A shooting range, perhaps?"

"Ah, that's understandable I suppose," the man nodded in acceptance, "I can miss my breakfast meeting. After all, this IS quite important." The man clapped his hands together. "I look forward to tomorrow, then?" He offered his hand to the woman, smiling warmly.

He did not blink. His eyes were wide. They were breathing.

They were disgusting.