In which Zod catches a hint of clue and looks for direction

…Hoping to clear their thoughts they headed back up to the greenery of the town square to ponder in the early morning sunlight that blesses this part of the world.

With still no direction, Zod wandered through the park to Main Street, across from Government House. Chalky white and unadorned it didn’t seem to have a sense of direction either. Uninspired, they flipped an electronic coin and headed North for a change.

There isn’t much to North Main beyond the park. Just a bank facing the Northern end of Government House and a row of small shops just beyond that had attached themselves to the old city wall like so many barnacles. Zod, needing to get out a few credits to pay his way around town addressed the bank, whose decorative features and rare mosaics were the exact opposite of it’s cross-street neighbor. Entering the lobby revealed a temple of opulence reflecting the treasures buried in its vaults. Zod stepped inside, overwhelmed like every patron is, by the sheer size and appointment of the building. Tricks of light and architecture made it seem to be larger than outside.

Recovering from the shock they feel every time, Zod headed to an available teller to load some credits from their account. Not too much, as usual, as there’s always a sense of mistrust towards sentient electronics. But while standing there he swore he caught a whiff of that cigar stink, but not strong enough to recognize its source. Still, they tried to upload everyone they could see into their memory banks before moving on out the door.

Zod dallied outside the bank for a few minutes in the way one pretends to tie their shoes. But the whiff was gone, and since one isn’t supposed to smoke in public areas, not likely to reappear unless they get that close again. So, left along North Wall, perusing the barnacles for useful trinkets ~ and perhaps a few useless ones as well. Zod doesn’t have a lot of space in his tiny apartment, but it’s infinitely more than the barracks he’d get relegated to were he demoted. Silently that thought gave him a much stronger sense of purpose, perhaps even greater finding his friend. But the two thoughts cannot exist without the other, replacing such thoughts with determination.