Free The Alpha Plague 3 by Michael Robertson

for her sunglasses but couldn’t find them. She must have left them at home.
    Vicky blinked repeatedly until she finally saw the unmistakable figure walk toward her. Broad and tall, he stood straight and proud. He’d come to meet his woman, and nothing could make him happier. Vicky’s heart lifted as she stepped toward him. After a quick glance around to be sure nobody could hear her she spoke with a lowered voice. “Brendan? What are you doing here?”
    “I wanted to meet you from work.”
    “That’s really kind of you, but how did you get into the city without a pass?”
    After he’d looked at all the people around them Brendan lowered his voice too. “It’s quite easy if you have enough confidence in your blag. Most of the time I have people apologising to me as they let me in.”
    “You come here often?”
    “Sometimes. It’s nice to check it out, you know?”  
    Before Vicky could reply, Brendan put an arm over her shoulder and she breathed in his musk.  
    “Come on,” he said, “let me buy you a coffee.”

    ***

    “Urgh,” Brendan said, “how tacky .”
    When Vicky looked up at the coffee shop’s sign she couldn’t disagree with him. The flashing neon letters had been written in joined up writing. It read ‘Caffeine’. Smoke curled from the back of the ‘C’ like the smoke from a car’s tyres; almost as if the drink would turbo charge you for the rest of your day.  
    Despite the tacky veneer the sight of the shop made Vicky’s mouth water as she anticipated a strong and hot cup. “They make a great coffee though. And it’s the most efficient coffee shop in the city.”
    Vicky led the way and put her bankcard into the machine as soon as she’d entered the shop. She ordered her coffee, and then ordered Brendan’s. Black no sugar; the man never changed his mind.  
    When Vicky stepped onto the conveyor belt she gripped the moving handrail that ran along beside it. Made from rubber, she held it for balance and turned to Brendan, who’d stepped on behind her.  
    The pair made small talk as the belt weaved a mazy path through the shop. They had people both in front and behind them. Their chattering voices joined the hiss of steam from the coffee machines. The baristas moved like they’d mainlined the product. Each one ran from one machine to the next as they prepared one of the many coffees on offer.
    Most businesses in the food and drink industry tried to keep things simple for efficiency, but coffee shops seemed to go the other way. A new coffee came out every week. Gingerbread dry Grande latte Milano froth monster seemed to be the latest. Vicky often felt like she needed to learn another language to order exactly what she wanted. Instead, she always opted for a gingerbread latte.
    “The conveyor belt never stops,” Vicky said as she watched two baristas collide when their paths crossed behind the counter. “It’s their policy. If they have to stop the belt everyone on it gets the cost of their coffee refunded. If they don’t stop the belt and your coffee is either made wrong, or simply isn’t ready, the entire shop gets free coffee.”
    With a limp jaw Brendan watched the other people on the belt. Some of them shouted at the baristas like they were angry with them. Some tried to distract them with charm.  
    After she’d given him a few seconds to digest the chaos Vicky said, “I even saw someone flash their tits at them once.”
    “All to distract them?”
    “Yep.”
    “So they could get free coffee?”
    “Yep.”
    Brendan shook his head. “And has it ever worked?”
    “ No ! Like fuck. I think that’s why people are so desperate to make it happen. Bragging rights or something like that. Where were you when Summit City opened? Where were you when the cold war started? Where were you when Caffeine’s conveyor belt stopped? ”
    Brendan shook his head as he watched the chaos. “All of this effort for a free coffee.”

    ***

    The coffee cup’s exterior remained cool in