Rachel wasn't ready to go home. She decided to take a walk and get some fresh air. The streets in the Old Quarter were quieter than she remembered them, even if the cafes were not.
It had been good to see Jake Harris again. It made her feel closer to the place that she wanted to be. She had spent too long sitting at home. It just wasn't the life that she wanted. Her recovery had been necessary, and she had enjoyed spending more time with Lisa, but she longed to be back on active duty.
The cool night air felt refreshing. Rachel didn't mind the chill that was beginning to seep into her bones. It felt good to be walking in the Old Quarter. It felt good to be stretching her legs. She had missed the place more than she had expected.
Rachel smiled and rolled her tongue from side to side. She could still taste the metallic tang of the bartender's drink. She wondered what he had put in it. There was undoubtedly some sort of synthesized fruit juice, and more than a little alcohol too. She couldn't shake the feeling that there might be something else in it too, something that she hadn't tasted before. Her legs felt heavy. She wanted to sit down on the street. She turned to look at a building on her left and saw steep steps leading down to a basement entrance. The sign above the door said Café Lyon. The name seemed familiar, but she couldn't remember why. She was about to continue walking when she noticed something odd about cafe's sign. It wasn't as still as it should be. Rachel rubbed her temple. The right side of the sign was taller than the left, but hadn't it been the other way around just a moment ago? The word Lyon looked as though it was moving towards the word Café. The words caressed each other, the L stroking up against the é as Rachel squinted, trying to understand what she was looking at. She felt uncomfortable watching the sign, as though she had strayed across two lovers making out in the street. She shook her head, and the letters returned to their normal place. The sign was nothing more than painted letters on a metal board. What had the bartender put in her drink? She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Her legs felt heavy, and something warm and fuzzy was building at the back of her mind. Maybe if she drank some water it might help shake off whatever was happening to her. Walking carefully, she headed down the steep steps that led to Café Lyon's front entrance. She glanced up at the sign as she passed beneath it, just to make sure it wasn't getting any funny ideas about her.
Rachel pushed her way through the cafe's over-friendly patrons. When she tripped, several people tried to help her, but it wasn't the kind of attention that she was looking for.
'I'm fine,' she said, pushing them away.
When she made it to the middle of the cafe, she ordered a cocktail of stimulants and emotional stabilisers from a woman with two pink strands of hair standing upright like a rabbit's ears. The woman looked at Rachel as though she was the strange one. Rachel felt suddenly out of place. She tried to see the funny side of things, as tingles ran up and down her spine. She had been naive to accept a drink from a stranger.
When her new drink arrived, she sat for a while, staring at her glass as it transformed in her hand. It changed from a glass to a wriggling fish, and then to a long steel pole before finally turning back into a glass. The texture of the glass changed too. She felt the smooth wet skin of the fish rubbing against her skin in an unnatural way. She was more than a little relieved when it started to feel like glass again. Looking up from her glass with wide eyes, she saw the bartender from Café Ruen walking in through the entrance. He frowned, and turned his head from side to side as though he was looking for someone. Rachel had an idea who that might be. She leant sideways on her seat, hiding behind a wooden pillar as she watched him make several circuits of the bar, checking all the tables in turn. Eventually he made his way around to where she was sitting. When he stepped towards her table, she jumped up and pinned him against the wall. The bartender looked delighted at first, a lascivious smile crossing his face.
'You want me,' he said. 'I knew it was so.'
Rachel swung her knee into his groin and the bartender cried out, dropping to his knees. She twisted his shoulders until he faced away from her, and then grabbed his neck with her arm.
'You fucking bitch! Get off me. Don't you know who I am?'
The patrons nearby paid little attention to their quarrel. They moved away to other tables and continued with their conversations.
'What did you put in my drink?' Rachel said.
'Nothing,' the bartender said, twisting within her grasp. His legs slid around on the floor as he tried to get back to his feet. Rachel held him in place. She squeezed his neck harder and yanked his head back hard enough to let him know that she wanted answers.
'Orange juice, strawberries, lime...'
'What else?'
'A little bit of alcohol, but not too much. Lady, it's not my fault if you can't handle your drink. I run a bar. I expect people to know their own limits.'
'It's not alcohol that's making me see six fingers on my right hand,' Rachel said.
'You just need to relax,' he said. 'Come with me. I'll make everything all right again.'
Rachel pulled back her leg and thrust her knee into the middle of the bartender's back. He grunted in pain and fell forwards until she yanked his head back again.
'You ain't no lady,' he said. 'Let me go. There was nothing in your drink.'
'The next time you see me in your bar I'll be wearing a uniform,' she said.
The bartender smiled. 'Nice. We like that kind of thing here. Bring a friend next time.' He twisted in her arm until his eyes stared up at her, and then his smile faded away. 'You're security forces aren't you? Shit! I knew it.'
'Spiking drinks is an offence,' Rachel said.
'I didn't spike nuthen. This has all been some misunderstanding. You had a drink here in Café Lyon. That must be what messed you up.'
'It was your drink,' Rachel said, releasing the bartender's head.
He struggled back to his feet and confronted her. 'You can't rough up the bar owners like this. I'll tell to the guilds about you.'
'You're the owner of Café Ruen?'
'Of course I am. Where have you been? I was right. You can't handle your drink. You don't even know who you're talking to.'
Rachel jabbed one finger into the bartender's chest. 'I know what you're doing. I'll be seeing you again.'
The bartender frowned and turned away, dismissing her with a gesture of his hand. 'You're a waste of time,' he said, walking away.
Rachel watched him disappear into the crowd. Sitting back down at her table, she took another sip from her drink. She just hoped it would help clear her mind.