//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: No Reservations // by Snaproll //------------------------------// This is how it happened. My name's Finn Kelly, and let me tell you something: you have not known boring until you've run the last shift at a small airport rent-a-car desk. It's not that the work in itself is unfulfilling and stressful at times. It is. It's also thankless and at a certain point, you can't advance in your career...at least, until someone above you gets fired or quits. Or goes insane. That was a Labor Day weekend to remember. But that's not why you're here. The part of my story you're interested in begins on a September evening. It was the beginning of one of the few slow times of the year in the Rental business, when the major three day weekends are over, the kids are all back in school, but before the holiday and convention seasons start. I'd agreed to trade a shift with my buddy, Jeff, because I could have used the overtime, I owed him a favor, and doing so got me two days off in a row. Not a bad deal in the business. Unfortunately, that means i was closing by myself an working until 1 in the Morning that Friday. But then, I'd known that already when I'd sacrificed my social life on the altar of continuous time off an a day of sleeping in. I was the only one working that night at Payne Rent A Car. Our utility workers had left early for the evening, though I ha more cars than I knew what to do with. Further, we'd only had two reservations that evening. One was one our Gold Customers, so all I'd had to do was set his contract up in his car and wait for the other reservation before my shift ended. Thank goodness for airport Wi-fi. I pulled up a movie on my phone, one I had seen before, so I could at least feign attention to arriving passengers and potential customers. While the Zucker Brothers magnum opus played quietly in the background, I took a minute to study the last reservation on the manifest. The first thing I'd noticed was that there was no flight number attached to it. A couple of years ago, that might not have meant much. But people had gotten savvier about booking reservations with as much information as possible. That and it adds insult to injury if your flight gets delayed AND your reservation gets broken. Consequently, it was rare that an airport location like mine had a reservation without someone flying in. Oh sure, you got the occasional local, but they usually went with the neighborhood rental locations. No sense in avoiding airport taxes and duties when you could avoid it. The second thing that leapt out at me was that the corporate discount program attached. See, any organization worth their salt gets a discount code and saves money off their rentals. Sometimes, a whole five percent! Never fear, West Hoboken Bagel Appreciation Society, your business is much appreciated. All kidding aside, you get the usual ones. Triple A, Costco, in addition to a few dozen tech companies. I always had a good head for memorizing strings of numbers, and I got to the point that I'd known the usuals by sight. This one wasn't. Curious, I was diverted from watching Ted Striker dealing with his Drinking Problem and looked it up. Hmm...Equus Ventures, Inc... The rental program's information screen yielded no meaningful information, so I dusted off my Google Fu and did some digging. I found three potential contenders. The first was some sort of Venture Capital outfit from out of Silicon Valley. They had a very professional website, but it didn't feel right. Neither did the other, which turned out to be a real-estate developer of some type or another. They were more likely than the venture capital outfit, since Washoe Valley was in something of a land rush, but I figured that anyone coming into the market was late to the game. Which left option three... The third potential Equus Ventures barely had a website to speak of. It had a vague mission statement, something flowery about "Discovering and Unlocking maximum potential of interpersonal relationships", whatever that meant. Their contact page gave an address. 1060 West Addison Ave, Chicago, Il, 60613...now why does that sound familiar... I thought about it for a few minutes, but nothing twigged. I figured it'd probably come to me just as I was about to fall asleep. Finally, the name under the reservation was unusual as well. What poor kid had to be saddled with such hippie-dippy parents to name her Sunset Shimmer ? I snorted and glanced back at the reservation time. They were due in sometime around eleven that night...and right now it was only half past eight. I sighed and decided not to think about it much. Besides, Leslie Nielsen was asking us to not call him "Shirley". ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ A quarter to midnight, and there still wasn't a sign of a customer, unfortunately named or otherwise. I sighed. They had maybe an hour or so before I started closing up. But then, I might not have too long to wait. I suddenly heard a clatter of footsteps and the roll of wheeled luggage. A trio of women rounded the corner from the concourse, dragging suitcases behind them. The first was a stunning redhead, with blonde highlights, dressed in jeans, a casual top, a black leather jacket and a pair of cowboy boots. She was breathing heavily, which I only took professional notice of. Seriously. Finally, I noticed the curious design embroidered on the lapel of her jacket: a red and orange Yin and Yang centered in a burst of fire. The woman to her right was dressed like the Platonic-ideal of hot librarians everywhere. She wore glasses, a long purple skirt, sensible brogans, and a dark purple cardigan over a plain white blouse. Her hair was dark, almost purple, though it did have a streak of pink and lavender. She wore it up in a bun, though a few strands had worked their way loose from the lavender and pink starburst hair clip, giving her an overall frizzy aspect. She was every bit the knockout her companion was, but something in her bearing that suggested that she would have been in complete denial of her appearance. Don't look at me like that. It's my job to notice these things. The final woman was...something else. She wore cream colored slacks and a suit jacket over a white blouse,and she carried no luggage. She was every bit as gorgeous as the other two women, but she had an indefinite air of gravitas. Her body language didn't just invite people to stare at her; she expected it. She wore an enigmatic expression on her appealing features, and her mesmerizing purple eyes (purple eyes, I tell you!) gave the impression they could tell precisely what you were thinking. She wore her hair up in a tight bun under a broad sun hat, but, weirdly, I couldn't tell what her hair color was. It shifted under the fluorescent lighting, from platinum blonde, strawberry blonde, and, at one glance, I swore it was a pale green. She also stood about six inches taller than the other two women, despite the fact she was wearing flats and they were in heeled boots. Stranger still, all three women showed no signs of travel. Usually, folks come off the plane in various states of wrinkled clothes and travel fatigue. Nearly everyone wants to just get their car and go to one of the casinos or get to their business meetings. These ladies...they looked like they'd just stepped off the runway. The fashion runway. I paused for a minute to consider my appearance. I mean, I'm not exactly what I'd call a sterling specimen of masculinity. I mean, sure, I've put on a little weight since my old deckhand days, but I'm still in pretty good shape. I was more concerned about my rumpled dress shirt and, to my dismay, the stain on my tie. I kept my red hair & goatee too short to achieve any sort of disarray, but my five o'clock shadow was starting to show, and I was pretty sure I smelled like 11 hours of hard work. All in all, not what I would call ideal circumstances to impress a beautiful woman, never mind three of them. I put my fears behind me and put on my best smile. Showtime, Finn. "Evening ladies. How can I help you?" The redhead gave me a smile. "Hey there. I think we've a reservation, under the last name Shimmer". "Yep! I got you right here. If you'll pass me your license and credit card, I can get you started." She handed them over, and I surreptitiously double checked them. She had an Illinois License that looked legitimate enough, and her credit card (Capital One, for those of you keeping score at home) scanned through without any issues. A few seconds later and I was copying her information into the computer and making eye contact. I know! And for my next trick, I'll walk and chew bubblegum! "So, what brings you to Reno, Miss Shimmer?" "Oh, business, mostly. We might take in some of the sights while we're here." I nodded as my fingers flew over the keyboard. "Sounds good. If you don't mind my asking, what line of work are you in?" She waved an airy hand. "Oh, all sorts. At the moment, we're headhunting." I nodded. "Well, you've come to the right place. Reno hasn't grown this much since the Comstock Lode took off." She frowned at me. "The what now?" I nodded to the wall on my left, indicating the south in general. "Big silver lode up in the Virginia Foothills. Second largest silver strike in the world, if I remember right. At one point, they were paving the streets with silver ore because they had more than they knew what to do with." I shrugged. "Virginia City's pretty much a tourist trap these days, but if you get a day spare, there's plenty of history up there." The bookish one perked up at that. "That sounds exciting, actually! What sort of things do they have up there?" I shrugged. "All sorts of museums. Old firefighting equipment, mining exhibits, railroads, that sort of thing. Here, hold on a second." I reached over to the wall of local tourist attractions nearby and palmed one of the ones for Virginia City. "I'll toss this in with your rental agreement. I don't know if you'll have time on your trip, but if you've any appreciation of history, it's a solid way to spend a day or so." Sunset's glance flicked over to her scholarly looking companion, and shrugged. "Thanks! Anything else we should check out while we're in town?" I thought for a few seconds before I spoke. "Well, truth be told, you came at an awkward time. You just missed the Hot Air Balloon Races, Air races, Rib Fest, and Camel Races. There's a few museums downtown, but unless you're a kid or interested in Classic cars or Bowling, you're probably out of luck. There is the Riverwalk, downtown, but that's mostly just a place to eat, drink and be merry. But it's fairly pretty, all the same." The bookish lady glanced at her red-headed companion. "We should have brought Dash with us." The third woman cleared her throat, and glanced at her shorter companion, who flushed and quieted. Into the silence I decided to earn my commission for the night. Hey, don't judge me. I like to help people, but a guy's also got to eat. "Ahem. Well, ladies, I see here you're down for a full size car, but if you'd like, I can hook you up with something more stylish. I have a Cadillac that' be perfect for the three of you." The three women glanced between themselves, and Sunset looked back at me. "How much extra is it?" I shrugged. "I've seen them go for about ninety a day, but frankly, It's just taking up space on my lot. Ten bucks over your current daily rate, and it's all yours." The two shorter women glanced back at their taller companion, who nodded and said "That seems more than reasonable. We'll take full insurance as well. One can never be too careful." "Too right, miss. Now, right now, Sunset, you're allowed to drive the car. Did we want to add anyone else to the rental agreement?" Sunset frowned thoughtfully, then turned to her two friends. "I don't have any problems with it. Are you interested?" The one with glasses shook her head. "Maybe sometime later. I don't think I'd be the right person for it." The tall one in the back stepped forward and asked "Is there an additional fee?" I decided to pull one of my tricks out. She didn't look a day over thirty, but I gave her an appraising look. "Well, that depends. Are you over twenty five years old?" She smiled enigmatically. "Somewhat." I grinned and nodded. "In that case, you're good. If you could just show me your driver's license and either a credit card or other form of ID, I can get you in no problem." Still smiling, she reached into her jacket and pulled out a Canadian driver's license and Passport. "Give me just a second," I said, and then started copying her information over. According to her license, she was a Miss Stella Solaris, and her passport seemed legitimate. A few seconds later, I'd printed up their rental agreement, gone over the rental charges and what each part of the insurance coverage covered, and what their daily charges would be. "Now, looking at it, you've got the car until this time Monday evening. If you'd like to extend your rental, this is my phone number here." I underlined it with a ballpoint pen. "My name's Finn, but if I'm not here, the easiest way anyone can look your contract up is by your contract number, which is up here." I underlined it on the top right corner of their paperwork. I nodded to the elevator behind them. "If you take that elevator over there up to the second floor, your car should be in stall D-42. If it isn't, or if you have any questions about the car's features, come back down here and see me. I'll be here for..." I checked the clock on the computer. "Another half hour or so, and I can get you sorted out." The redhead gave me a smile and said "Thank you very much. Can you give us directions to the Grand Sierra Resort?" "Oh sure. Just follow the signs for the freeway north, and it's two exits up. You can't miss it." All three of them thanked me profusely, gathered up their luggage, contract, car keys, and made their way to the elevator. Sunset gave me a wave goodbye, though her bookish companion was fascinated by the automatic closing doors and the buttons. Then the door closed and they were gone. I sighed. Well, I thought to myself, There's worse ways to end a shift than getting a nice contract like that. Now, we'll just have to see if they have any issues. In the meantime, I started closing up the booth. Forty five minutes later, I'd about managed to stow the cash we'd taken in for the day, not to mention the spare car keys, other materials, and assorted detritus that accumulates at a workstation over the course of a shift. No sense in leaving things out of shape for the morning shift. I was just about to lock up the office when I heard footsteps coming down the councourse at a run. She was beautiful, but dressed much more plainly than the other three women I'd managed to help, in a pair of tight, dark blue jeans, high-top sneakers, a purple Hawaiian shirt spangled with silver stars over a lavender tank top. Even more incongruously, she wore a matching witches' hat. Her hair was platinum blonde, and fell to her shoulders, an her fine-boned features bore mixed expressions of triumph and concern. "You, stallion! Did you see where those three mares went?" I actually looked behind me to see who she was addressing, then turned back. "Were...were you talking to me?" "Who else would Trixie be addressing, dolt?" I harnessed my deepest reserves of Customer Service Fu and summoned up my best smile. "Well, I helped three women a short while ago, but they left a half hour ago. There's a chance they're still up on the second floor if you'd like to look." She shot me a dirty look, then turned and looked around the concourse. "Where are the stairs?" "Either end of the hallway, but the Elevator's faster." She cocked her head to one side. "What do you mean?" I sighed and put up the "Closed" sign on the desk. I figured I'd check if someone showed up in the next ten minutes. "Here, come with me." I led her over to the elevators and called one. She seemed surprised when the doors slid open, but followed me in for the short ride up. The doors opened on the second floor, and, as I'd thought, Space D-42 was empty. I shook my head. "Sorry, Miss, looks like they're gone."Then a thought occurred to me. "How did you get separated? Weren't you all on the same flight?" She hesitated. "It...it was Trixie's fault." I frowned. I mean, sure, there's plenty of distractions on the airport concourse after you leave your airplane, running the gamut between slot machines and duty free shops. But I'd thought that it'd be a pretty sorry outlook if three of your companions left the airport without you. As rude as she'd been, I was also starting to get concerned. "Can you call them? They might not have gone far." She looked around, shrugged, threw her head back and shouted at the top of her lungs. "SUNSET SHIMMER! CELESTIA! PRISSY KNOW IT ALL SPARKLE! THE LOST AND ALONE TRIXIE NEEDS YOUR ASSISTANCE!!!" Car alarms up and down the row started going off and I'm pretty certain I'd never hear the same out of my left ear again. She waited for the echoes to die away before turning to me. "Your suggestion was singularly unhelpful." I gave her a level look. "I meant on your cellphone." She looked confused and, if I wasn't mistaken, somewhat apprehensive. "Trixie...er...I don't have...mine." I frowned at that. Heck, even the bums around here have cellphones. "Okay...Come back downstairs. I'll see if I can call them." An elevator ride later, I pulled up the contract and dialed the number they had on file on speaker phone. A computerized voice said "Please wait a moment." Instead of ringing, whatever phone service started playing an orchestral version of "Go Bananas" before a woman's voice said "You have reached the voicemail of Stella Solaris. Please leave a message after the squee" followed immediately by the sound of what sounded like a party horn. I glanced up at Trixie, who was simply gaping at the speakerphone. I rolled my eyes and said "Hello Miss Stellaris. This is Finn from Payne rent-a-car. I have a member of your party here, a Miss Trixie..." I glanced at the woman with me, who whispered something I couldn't quite make out. "Trixie Bluemoon, who is most distraught by not meeting you. If you could call her at your earliest convenience, she would greatly appreciate it." With that, I hung up. Trixie glared at me. "Why did you hang up? Surely you only have to wait for her answer." I frowned at her. "Well, that was her voicemail. I mean, I don't know how often she checks it, but hopefully she should be able to get in touch with you." Then my rental instincts kicked in. Might as well make an extra buck if I could. "Would you like to rent a car?" She frowned. "What would I need to rent one of your strange carriages?" "Do you have a driver's license and a credit card?" "A...a what?" "You know..." I couldn't tell if she was being deliberately stupid, drunk, or just didn't know. I pulled out my wallet to show her mine. "One of these things, and a credit card." "I...I...Trixie is not sure." I indicated her jeans. "Check your pockets, you might have something there." She didn't seem drunk, but if this was a case of travel shock, it was the worst I'd seen. Trixie, for her part, seemed genuinely surprised that her jeans even had pockets, and spent the better part of five minutes searching all four of her pockets and turning out nothing more interesting than lint, which she presented to me with a flourish. "How about this! What can you give Trixie in exchange for this wondrous material?" They come here, they all come here...how...do they find ME?!? I arched an eyebrow. "With that and a sharp knife, you can slice bread." I sighed. "Look, I know your friends are staying at the Grand Sierra Resort, at least, that's what they told me." The cynical side of me suddenly reared its head, and pointed out that I only had this lady's word that the other three women were her friends. What if she were hostile to them? I might be doing more harm than good. Thankfully, Trixie shook her head. "No...no. Trixie will just...um...Thank you for your help. Farewell!" With that she turned and bolted up the concourse, back the way she had originally come. I shook my head and muttered "Crazy broad" under my breath. With that, I glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes past closing. I swore, forwarded the phones, grabbed my jacket, and headed out. The only downside, as far as I could tell, was I had to head down the concourse in the same direction Trixie had left. Hopefully, I thought, our paths wouldn't cross. Of course, the Great Will of the Macrocosm has a sense of humor. I saw Trixie again fifty yards down the concourse, around the corner from the rent-a-car counters. I'd expected that she'd have been trying to get something out of the slots, or maybe just hanging out at one of the numerous airport bars. Instead, she was furiously pushing her hands against a nondescript wall halfway down the concourse, muttering under her breath in frustration. As I grew closer, she threw a shoulder against the wall once, twice, and then slumped down to the floor, utterly dejected. Her body shook with what I was certain was a sob, and she buried her head in her arms. I frowned at that. Sure, she'd been arrogant and downright rude to me. But by the same token, she was a stranger in our town, and she wasn't acting like a junkie. This girl seemed to be genuinely in trouble. And dammit, if it's one thing that's guaranteed to get me to help, it's a damsel in distress. I slowly walked over to her. "Hey...Do you need a hand?" Trixie sniffed and looked up at me, blinking tears from her blue eyes. Some women are pretty when they cry. Trixie's features went blotchy. "Wha-What did you say?" I held out a hand to her. "Come on, on your feet now. If you like, I'll drop you off at the GSR on my way home. You should be able to connect with your friends there." She simply stared at my hand, as if unsure what to do with it. I shook it in front of her. "C'mon, grab hold." She tentatively reached forward, and put her hand in mine. Her hands were soft, though she had calluses. She was used to manual labor, though her fingers were long and flexible. I pulled her to her feet. "That's the first step, miss. Come on, I'll give you a lift." Trixie stood, and then wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Very well. Trixie will allow you to give her a...lift, as you say. But...But could Trixie stay with you?" Say what? "I...I mean, you're more than welcome to...my home's not exactly what you'd call 'palatial'..." "Trixie does not care. You have been more than helpful to Tr..." She took a deep breath, "...To ME when I have been less than kind to you, so Tr-I know you have little reason to help me...but...I have nowhere else to turn. And if Trixie cannot find her friends at this... GSR..." I took a deep breath before I spoke. She had a point. She obviously had no identification, no money, nothing to rely on in a strange city except a strange person she'd only known for fifteen minutes at the outside. Furthermore, she was a fairly young and, I wasn't kidding myself, fairly attractive member of the fairer sex. She was extending a fair measure of trust in me, asking for shelter. And God knew, there were plenty of scumbags in this town that would take advantage of a young woman in her position. I'd be damned if I counted myself among their number. "Sure. Come on, Let's get you somewhere safe."