The Wanderer...

0300hrs - Obscure room with lots of books.

"Max, listen to me, for I don't have much time left. You have to stay strong. No matter what happens to me, never think of life as unfair. Yes, things happen that are beyond your control, but you are made out of stronger stuff. Follow the map, it will lead you to where you need to go."

Knocks on the door turn into bangs, then hammering, and finally the door gives way. George is lifted harshly off the ground, where he was trying to shield his 4 year old son from the harsh claws of mercenaries.

The mercs leave a shaken Max weeping uncontrollably, amidst his father's screams of mercy. One of the thugs points his 9mm Berretta at young Max. Max is too frightened to even blink. Thug laughs, reaches into his side pocket and fishes out a shiny object. He tosses it at Max. Max makes no attempt to catch it. It lands with a pinging sound. Thug shrugs and walks away, leaving a tearful young Max staring into the distance, at nothing in particular. When he awakes from his trance, he heads over to where he thinks the object landed. After a short search, he finds it. A bit dirtied, but shiny nonetheless. He wipes it with his shirt and holds it up in the light. He can barely make out the shape of wings. He turns it round and the same image presents itself. He pockets it and cries some more...

20 years later...

1516hrs - Small restaurant in dusty suburb

Sun is blazing mercilessly, as though to discourage any and all daytime activity. The restaurant is just as warm. No air cons and the fans have long since developed cobwebs. She waits, still. Takes a sip of her Tusker and glances at the wall clock.
She's been waiting for 8 minutes, but it feels like an hour already.

She spots a guy walk in. Looking quite amused at the lack of activity in his favorite restaurant. He sees her, smiles sheepishly, and walks over to the counter.
Asks for an ice-cold Novida. He gets it promptly. He turns around and makes a beeline to the maiden in waiting.

"Black and green make quite a match, don't you think?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I mean our respective bottles. Your black and my green."
"Oh... So what's your point then?"
"I can bet that whoever you're waiting for will order a Tusker when he gets here, just to 'show' that you have similar interests."
"Actually, he does that a lot."
"Ah, where is he, if I may ask?"
"He's around. You should probably get moving."
"If i wanted to, I would have. But how can I return to a normal life after my cosmic state of balance has been so pleasantly interrupted?"
Eyes gleaming with pleasure... She smiles.
"Well, since fate has decided to entwine our strings of existence, we can as well make the most of it."

Phone rings. He answers. "Post Office. 20 minutes." Line goes dead.
He gets up and walks to the counter, says something to the bartender and returns a number of minutes later.
"Where were we?"

"You were about to tell me your name."
"Bruce."
"Janice. Nice to meet you, Bruce."
"I perceive it is a mutual pleasure. I need to go now. I'll keep in touch."
"I already have your number."

He smiles, nods, and walks out. She gets her phone and dials a number.
"He's on his way." She looks again at the photo in her hand...