At the Bar Vashello

Sidonius Varis

Lupercal 14, AC 233

I'm the guy in the white suit who is seen at all the bars in the open part of Surakosai. I'm not stupid enough to go into Keilian tribal territory, and besides, my grasp of the Keilian language isn't that great. I could probably say something like, "Oh, please don't kill me, I'm only a writer!" At which point they probably would blow me away instantly, given the contempt they have for writing and writers, especially male writers.

I like the Vashello not only because it has a great view over the city to the harbor from the upper terrace, but because it's close to my apartment. I was told when I moved here that the great Theophore Enlil lived somewhere in this neighborhood, but nobody remembers just where. For all I know my rooms could be where he lived, but I doubt it. He should have been able to afford a better place than mine. I'm in the old University district, where the original University of Surakosai used to be, before it moved to the outskirts where it had more space to expand. That was before my time, but a lot of Uni people still live here to save money and then take the cable car out to work.

I also like the Vashello because if I have had too much wine, I can just trundle home to my little nook without losing my way. The food at Vashello is mediocre, mostly Keilian grilled stuff and oily vegetables, but it will do and it is cheap. I've written many a story or article here, and no one looks over my shoulder to see what's on my screen. 

In case I look familiar, I am familiar. You've seen me here and there in various media outlets, including my own Datawell 74, "Wordwell." I'm Sidonius Varis, and I confess to being a writer. I write everything from journalism to adventure stories, and I've also written Old World fiction and pretentious philosophical essays and criticism and reviews...anything they pay me for. I've been a lecturer at the Media and Text department at the University, and I will admit that I even stooped to writing advertising copy for a large ad agency which will remain nameless. I was a television commentator for a vidwell that went dark after a few years, I edited the "Memoirs of Ancaranda," and I've written in genres reaching from clan-wars to drugcore to mindporn. I still barely make a living. So when Datawell 25 "Surakosiana" asked me to write a regular column for them, and offered me 100 Trinacriats for each one, I couldn't turn it down. They said, write about interesting people and stories, keep it clean, and stay away from politics. Quite a constrained agenda, I suppose, but I accepted. There are countless stories to be heard in these parts.

I have an ethnic background which excuses a multitude of literary offenses. I am a Lord of Memory, one of that erudite tribe who dominate the Noantri-social sector of the education world. They're the academics who wear all white uniforms to show how they never get themselves dirty with low manual work. I am Varis of Clan Var, one of the major families, on a par with Clan Lil of Enlil fame. Clan Var doesn't like to speak to me after I quit teaching at the University after only a few years. But they still accept my tithe, and I still wear the white. There is a portrait of Enlil on the wall of this establishment and I often imagine, when I've had a glass too many, that he's looking down at me with a mixture of sorcery and scorn.