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Fortunately the Red was sparsely populated at this early hour. The café was doing a desultory trade in warmed over breakfasts and bitter coffee, which apparently wasn’t strong enough to keep the blond girl at the information desk from dozing off, her head resting on a folder on the counter.
They commandeered a corner table, with one long bench seat. She sat down while he collected coffee and painkillers, and was rummaging in her bug bag for some cash to pay for them when he came back.
‘Here you go - one mocha, and one Advil a la mode’ he announced with a mock waiter’s flourish. He slid the paper cups and a bottle of water onto the table, and fished in his jeans pocket for the tablets.
‘Thanks’
She managed to corner some coins, and pulled them out.
‘How much do I owe you.’
‘Don’t worry about it. - You can’t go rescuing damsels in distress and then asking for money. It’s just not done.’
His tone was light, with enough gentle mockery to take the sting out of the damsels part.
‘Oh, so you do this sort of thing all the time?’
‘I think I can say this is the first time.’
‘My virgin white knight!’ she breathed with an exaggerated flattering of eyelashes.
‘Only at the knight stuff!’ He smiled. ‘Just don’t ask me to ride in on a horse and sword fight - there aren’t that many physical activities I’m really good at.’
‘Hey - sex and dancing suit me - the rest I’m not really bothered about.’ She spoke absently, lifting her head to swallow down the second tablet.
‘Yeah, well I’ve not been doing so much of either recently’ He looked down at his coffee cup for a second, as if realizing what he’d just said.
‘Oh? So would you ... go dancing with me?’
The flirtation can almost automatically, the words out before she’d really though about it, right down to the suggestive pause in the middle. She cursed in the back of her mind when she saw something hopeful in the look he gave her with a small smile.
‘I’d like that. I mean ... once finals are over and I actually get to get my life back, I could definitely do with getting out of this place for a while.’
‘Shit.’
He sat back so fast it could have counted as jumping.
‘Finals.’ Mal clarified before he could leap to conclusions. She pinched the bridge of her nose in lieu of rubbing at her temples.
‘All this’ she gestured to the black eye and bruises. ‘When I was jumped - I was downtown - they took my laptop and everything.’
‘Shit ... and you didn’t have backups of your coursework?’ he asked.
‘Something like that.’ Shit, she didn’t even know what the coursework assignments were.
‘Do you have any of it on the servers here?’
‘Don’t get server space ‘till the third year.’ Which was true, if somewhat beside the point.
‘Oh ... yeah. Sorry. I’ve got so used to it I forget that not everyone has it. What year are you in? I don’t remember seeing you around’
‘I’m a sophomore. You?’
Somehow she suspected that admitting she was going for the hacking route might not be the smartest of moves, and it was easier to turn the focus back onto him.
‘Final ... although I’ve been here five years, which feels like most of forever right now. I’ve got enough credits to graduate twice over, I just needed to pick one major, you know?’
‘OK - so what were the choices?’
‘Comp sci, or psychology. I want to go into research in virtual reality, so I got kind of into the whole body/brain interface stuff, perceptions of space ... And I should probably stop now before I start lecturing, right?’
‘Hell no ... I love that stuff! Do you get to work with Prof. Armstrong? I mean she is just something else. Her public lectures last semester - *wow*.’
If she made it into the senior years, Professor Armstrong’s classes would be ones Mal would be willing to darken the doors of a classroom for. Her parents may have pushed Eden as being a university close to home, but Armstrong’s research group had been one of the major draws for Mal. That and the opportunities off campus, of course.
She almost managed to forget how she had met him, she was so intent on the topic at hand, and he seemed more than happy to answer and argue and suggest angles that she hadn’t even thought about. Their coffees went cold unnoticed, and the Red slowly filled around them. A sudden climb in volume announced the end of 8.30 classes.
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by someone swinging their kit bag over their shoulder. The bag caught Mal’s injured elbow on the way past.
‘Motherfucking OW - asshole!’
‘Dude! Chill.’
The kit bag was attached to someone who looked like they ought to have gotten in on a sports scholarship. Football. Or maybe wrestling. That didn’t stop Mal flicking him the finger as she nursed her arm.
‘Well soo-ree.’ The offending student pointedly turned his back, rejoining his friends. His final ‘What a bitch’ floated back clearly enough nevertheless.
She used one leg to push herself further back into the bench, turning back towards her white knight, still rubbing her elbow. When he didn’t say anything, she eventually looked up. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but that slow nod and half smile that looked like amusement and admiration wasn’t it.
‘What?’ she asked, not caring if it was rude.
‘You are something else.’
She kept looking at him, trying to figure him out.
‘I mean that in a good way.’ He said in the end, to fill the silence. She smiled despite herself.
‘Well, good.’
He glanced up at the clock that dominated the high ceilinged room.
‘Look ... I have a tutorial session in a half an hour ... I really should get going, and I don’t even know your name, and are you going to be ok?’
It came out in something of a rush.
‘It’s Mal ... and I’ll manage. I always do. You’ve been a real star, but I don’t want to fuck up your morning. What is your name, anyway?’
‘Neo.’
She couldn’t help but role her eyes and groan. That was just too cheesy.
‘Aww ... shut up.’ His fingers brushed against her arm on the table top, as though he thought she was going to get up and walk away. ‘It’s Neil really, but there were three Neils in my year in Castor Hall , and my room-mate started calling me Neo, and it stuck.’
‘Fair enough’ she allowed. ‘You don’t look like a 14 year old poseur either.’
‘Gee thanks.’
‘You’re welcome’ she dimpled in her best society girl perky voice. ‘And thanks.’ Her voice dropped back to normal.
‘Any time’
He wriggled out from the bench seat, and hooked his army surplace backpack out from under the table. His face was intent for a moment while his fingers rummaged through one of the front pockets.
‘Hey ... thanks for sitting and chatting with me.’ Mal offered by way of a goodbye. Talking tech was something she could appreciate without feeling too beholden.
‘Again ... anytime. You know your stuff. I guess I’ll see you around?’ He left the statement hanging like a question.
‘I guess so.’ No point being rude, after all.
He dropped a card on the table, something he’d printed out at home from the perforated edges.
‘Well ... if you want to call me or something ... ok ... I have to go. Take care of yourself, ok?’
He turned quickly, and was halfway across the rapidly emptying eating area when he stopped and looked back. He smiled.
‘You were going for the hack grade, weren’t you?’ He called back. ‘It worked out pretty good for me.’
And then he was gone, with the last of the crowd.
They commandeered a corner table, with one long bench seat. She sat down while he collected coffee and painkillers, and was rummaging in her bug bag for some cash to pay for them when he came back.
‘Here you go - one mocha, and one Advil a la mode’ he announced with a mock waiter’s flourish. He slid the paper cups and a bottle of water onto the table, and fished in his jeans pocket for the tablets.
‘Thanks’
She managed to corner some coins, and pulled them out.
‘How much do I owe you.’
‘Don’t worry about it. - You can’t go rescuing damsels in distress and then asking for money. It’s just not done.’
His tone was light, with enough gentle mockery to take the sting out of the damsels part.
‘Oh, so you do this sort of thing all the time?’
‘I think I can say this is the first time.’
‘My virgin white knight!’ she breathed with an exaggerated flattering of eyelashes.
‘Only at the knight stuff!’ He smiled. ‘Just don’t ask me to ride in on a horse and sword fight - there aren’t that many physical activities I’m really good at.’
‘Hey - sex and dancing suit me - the rest I’m not really bothered about.’ She spoke absently, lifting her head to swallow down the second tablet.
‘Yeah, well I’ve not been doing so much of either recently’ He looked down at his coffee cup for a second, as if realizing what he’d just said.
‘Oh? So would you ... go dancing with me?’
The flirtation can almost automatically, the words out before she’d really though about it, right down to the suggestive pause in the middle. She cursed in the back of her mind when she saw something hopeful in the look he gave her with a small smile.
‘I’d like that. I mean ... once finals are over and I actually get to get my life back, I could definitely do with getting out of this place for a while.’
‘Shit.’
He sat back so fast it could have counted as jumping.
‘Finals.’ Mal clarified before he could leap to conclusions. She pinched the bridge of her nose in lieu of rubbing at her temples.
‘All this’ she gestured to the black eye and bruises. ‘When I was jumped - I was downtown - they took my laptop and everything.’
‘Shit ... and you didn’t have backups of your coursework?’ he asked.
‘Something like that.’ Shit, she didn’t even know what the coursework assignments were.
‘Do you have any of it on the servers here?’
‘Don’t get server space ‘till the third year.’ Which was true, if somewhat beside the point.
‘Oh ... yeah. Sorry. I’ve got so used to it I forget that not everyone has it. What year are you in? I don’t remember seeing you around’
‘I’m a sophomore. You?’
Somehow she suspected that admitting she was going for the hacking route might not be the smartest of moves, and it was easier to turn the focus back onto him.
‘Final ... although I’ve been here five years, which feels like most of forever right now. I’ve got enough credits to graduate twice over, I just needed to pick one major, you know?’
‘OK - so what were the choices?’
‘Comp sci, or psychology. I want to go into research in virtual reality, so I got kind of into the whole body/brain interface stuff, perceptions of space ... And I should probably stop now before I start lecturing, right?’
‘Hell no ... I love that stuff! Do you get to work with Prof. Armstrong? I mean she is just something else. Her public lectures last semester - *wow*.’
If she made it into the senior years, Professor Armstrong’s classes would be ones Mal would be willing to darken the doors of a classroom for. Her parents may have pushed Eden as being a university close to home, but Armstrong’s research group had been one of the major draws for Mal. That and the opportunities off campus, of course.
She almost managed to forget how she had met him, she was so intent on the topic at hand, and he seemed more than happy to answer and argue and suggest angles that she hadn’t even thought about. Their coffees went cold unnoticed, and the Red slowly filled around them. A sudden climb in volume announced the end of 8.30 classes.
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by someone swinging their kit bag over their shoulder. The bag caught Mal’s injured elbow on the way past.
‘Motherfucking OW - asshole!’
‘Dude! Chill.’
The kit bag was attached to someone who looked like they ought to have gotten in on a sports scholarship. Football. Or maybe wrestling. That didn’t stop Mal flicking him the finger as she nursed her arm.
‘Well soo-ree.’ The offending student pointedly turned his back, rejoining his friends. His final ‘What a bitch’ floated back clearly enough nevertheless.
She used one leg to push herself further back into the bench, turning back towards her white knight, still rubbing her elbow. When he didn’t say anything, she eventually looked up. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but that slow nod and half smile that looked like amusement and admiration wasn’t it.
‘What?’ she asked, not caring if it was rude.
‘You are something else.’
She kept looking at him, trying to figure him out.
‘I mean that in a good way.’ He said in the end, to fill the silence. She smiled despite herself.
‘Well, good.’
He glanced up at the clock that dominated the high ceilinged room.
‘Look ... I have a tutorial session in a half an hour ... I really should get going, and I don’t even know your name, and are you going to be ok?’
It came out in something of a rush.
‘It’s Mal ... and I’ll manage. I always do. You’ve been a real star, but I don’t want to fuck up your morning. What is your name, anyway?’
‘Neo.’
She couldn’t help but role her eyes and groan. That was just too cheesy.
‘Aww ... shut up.’ His fingers brushed against her arm on the table top, as though he thought she was going to get up and walk away. ‘It’s Neil really, but there were three Neils in my year in Castor Hall , and my room-mate started calling me Neo, and it stuck.’
‘Fair enough’ she allowed. ‘You don’t look like a 14 year old poseur either.’
‘Gee thanks.’
‘You’re welcome’ she dimpled in her best society girl perky voice. ‘And thanks.’ Her voice dropped back to normal.
‘Any time’
He wriggled out from the bench seat, and hooked his army surplace backpack out from under the table. His face was intent for a moment while his fingers rummaged through one of the front pockets.
‘Hey ... thanks for sitting and chatting with me.’ Mal offered by way of a goodbye. Talking tech was something she could appreciate without feeling too beholden.
‘Again ... anytime. You know your stuff. I guess I’ll see you around?’ He left the statement hanging like a question.
‘I guess so.’ No point being rude, after all.
He dropped a card on the table, something he’d printed out at home from the perforated edges.
‘Well ... if you want to call me or something ... ok ... I have to go. Take care of yourself, ok?’
He turned quickly, and was halfway across the rapidly emptying eating area when he stopped and looked back. He smiled.
‘You were going for the hack grade, weren’t you?’ He called back. ‘It worked out pretty good for me.’
And then he was gone, with the last of the crowd.