Page 7 of Furi

Having found that out, all he needed to do was to source fact from fiction and to do that he’d needed to be nearer his target.

Choosing the best option to get there, he picked a fight in another bar and was arrested just as Beale had. Finding himself exactly where he was.

But he needed nearer his target now.

The answer logical, he broke away from the wall taking a swing at both his captors, putting little effort into it, giving the impression of still being drunk. Making quite a show of strength. They’d already been wary of his size. He gave them a good show then acted as if his bluster had exhausted itself. They soon took charge telling him he was going in with the other drunks.

An automatic reaction would have been to smile but he was Cyborg and emotion wasn’t part of who he was. He kept the smile from his face.

Who was he to argue?

It was exactly where he wanted to be.

Thrown into the drying out tank he worked his way around the cage until he was near the person he needed. Sideling up to him he engaged him in conversation. Bloating his ego a little. The male still heavily intoxicated. Asking questions that the man would expect about this great story he had to tell, offering him several rounds of free drinks on him once they were out if he told him the story firsthand.

Handing him a handful of credits to kick things off.

It didn't take much to loosen that tongue.

Within 20 minutes he had the entire story from start to finish. How his best friend at school had dumped him at the first sign of any problem. Of course, he told him it wasn't his fault but his old friend had blamed him when he was using faulty equipment, that the few drinks he’d had had nothing to do with the accident. That in fact his old friend was lucky he did not sue him for nearly getting him killed.

His tail going on about how he had used it to make his old friend guilty about the whole thing. Kept him paying him off every time he came to town until recently when he’d passed away caught out in a storm.

Ranting on in his own drama and loss, about what did the man think he was doing? It cost him a good income! Then the daughter had come to town and she ignored him. Blanked him completely and he’d not been given what he was owed.

That pissed Beale off.

The man angry. Spewing out all his poison to anyone who’d listen.

He clearly believed what he was telling himself and others. It was him that was the aggrieved party. No sympathy for the loss or empathy of his ‘friend’ passing or for his family. Too self-absorbed in his own needs.

But logic told him reading between the lines it was lucky this man had not killed himself by now or someone else and he was right, his old friend clearly had still felt a sense of sadness for the man. Or he remembered his old friend with kindness and couldn't stop thinking how he just couldn’t get his shit together and have a life. Wanting to help him.

Either way Beale was unable to take the hint or help in the right direction. But in reality, his friend just kept enabling him likely in a false sense of obligation.

People only changed if they wanted to. Beale didn’t want to. Still lost to the alcohol.

Doing that only fed the man's belief that he was entitled.

The daughter ignoring him had clearly grated and only fed his desires and resentment. He was expecting his usual windfall regardless of the father dying and it hadn't happened.

He couldn't say he blamed her. If that had been going on for decades and she'd witnessed it over and over again, it was no wonder that she’d wanted to put an end to it and distance herself from the man.

But he obviously didn't see it that way.

Encouraging him and pumping him for more information he pulled on the tendrils that he needed. Looking for the location over his neuro net connecting to the community hub for the property Beale talked about. Looking for the name of the farmer. Chasing down the owner on the recorded records.

Pulling the last bits of information from the man, even knew that the wife had died in childbirth. The freak accident of her husband had devastated her. Likely brought on by the stress of losing her husband so close to term and an older mother. The male was sorry about that, he seemed to have some affection for the woman that had passed. But that soon passed. His focus back on his own needs.

The farm now in the hands of the daughter Beale sneered.

On seeing the amount of goods in her wagons coming into town it hadn't made sense to him with the lack of people to help bring it in. He’d been halfway sober, thinking straight for once. And wondered how she’d done it. And knowing where the farmstead was, he followed her back. Only to fall asleep having drunk his way through his flask on the journey.

And waking to the daughter, two old retainers leaning over him, and two large men standing behind them. He’d never seen the like before. The two men strange and intimating, looming near him, he’d pissed himself. The disgust all over the daughter's face at seeing it. He laughed at his own stupidity.

And went on about their size like it was unimaginable.

“Strangers that shouldn't be on world!” he shouted.

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