Short Stories From Fading Worlds

A Bar Called Kuiper: The Smuggler

"You know, you probably shouldn't even be serving me here."

The bartender raised an eyebrow at the patron.
"Criminal?"

"Yep," the scrawny man replied, "I ran goods under the nose of the government for years. I made good money off of it as well."

"What sort of goods?"

The man shrugged, taking a swig of his port.
"Whatever people wanted. Medical supplies, contraband drugs, weapons, you name it and at some point I've probably dealt in it. Luxury goods though, mostly. No-one can afford to buy most luxuries in stores anymore 'cause the prices keep going up, so I sell cheaper and still manage to make a profit. So yeah, pretty much anything, to be honest."

The bartender raised an eyebrow.
"Except in living creatures, I take it?"

The man hurriedly set down his drink, nodding at the bartender.
"Yeah, no people or animals, obviously. I'm a black market fencer, not a monster!"

The bartender nodded.
"Well, in that case I'm happy to continue serving you. You'd be surprised how many people like yourself come through here."

The man raised an eyebrow and pointedly looked around the empty bar.
"Quite a lot, is it?"

The bartender rolled his eyes playfully.
"More than you'd think, that's for certain. It's extremely rare we get many visitors this far out, but a fair few are smugglers, and to a man they're all lingering here to put off their departure before they leave the Sol System for good. I take it that's why you're here too?"

The man sighed a heavy sigh and slumped a little over the bar.
"Yeah, that's why I'm here. Too many corpos out there now, too many cops and customs officers and not enough freedom. Had a close call out by Phobos a couple months back. I ain't risking that again."

"Out to the colonies then? Whereabouts you off to, anywhere in particular?"

The smuggler shrugged again, taking another swig of his port.
"Not sure. Out to the Reaches, that's all I know. Alpha Centauri, maybe. Or Barnard's Star. I haven't decided yet."

The smuggler raised his glass and finished the last of his measure.

"Either way, there'll be plenty of work for someone like me. I might even be able to work legally out there, you know, become an independent transporter rather than a smuggler. The corpos ain't got much of a grip on the reaches yet, so they ain't got their monopolies. I can keep meself in business and keep back a little something to buy a little plot of land on one of the planetside colonies one day. Heh, that'd be nice. What about you, barkeep? You can't be planning on staying here forever, surely?"

The bartender nodded at the man's empty glass.

"Same again?"

The smuggler nodded.
"Aye, that sounds nice. What did you say this was, Tawny Port?"

"That's right sir, Tawny Port. As for me I haven't really thought about it a lot, to be honest. I've been here a good few years now, and I can't see myself moving out yet."

"You'll have to one day, boss-man. When the corpos move in on you and start buying up everything in this belt like they've done the rest of the system you'll not be able to stay here."

The bartender just nodded noncommittedly.
"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. As it stands at the moment there's a few more people that'll be trickling out past Oort, so I can afford to keep in business for a little while longer. Well, the landlord and lady can anyway. When the time comes I'll take my pay and follow you all out into the colonies, most like."