women, and none of them looking what you would call... wholesome ... On
a raised platform off to one side of the bar, red and blue lights
played over a listless dancer. She was naked, save for several rings
piercing various body parts, and a few small but interesting tattoos of
her own, including a -flame-colored one shaped like an arrow that
pointed at one of the more intimate piercings--or what was being
pierced. The music was some bump-and-grind number with saxophones and
a lot of drums, and the dancer could have phoned in her performance.
From her face, one could see the dancer was well past her prime; from
stretch marks and scars, one could guess that she'd had children,
cosmetic surgery, and probably an appendectomy. The overall effect was
as erotic as a chunk of concrete, and nobody was watching the woman
dance.
Jay Gridley, wearing a sleeveless blue denim jacket sporting colors
from the Thai Tigers Motorcycle Club-TTMC superimposed over a growling
tiger's face--stood between two bruisers a foot taller than he and
probably half again his weight.
One of the bruisers accidentally tapped Jay with his elbow as he turned
to speak to a mama on the other side of him.
'Watch it,' Jay said.
The biker turned back to Jay, death in his eyes, but when he saw Jay,
he blinked and said, 'Sorry, man.'
Jan grinned. Well, what the hell, it was his scenario, wasn't it? If
he was gonna be in a bad biker titty bar, he might as well be the
baddest guy in the place, right? Jay knew he had the moves to wipe up
the virtual floor with anybody in the place, and even in VR, people
could sense a real expert from his moves and stance.
It probably said something about his fantasy life that he would come up
with such a scenario, and was able to flesh it out as well as he had,
but hey, if you can't have fan, what is the point?
The bartender came over, and Jay pointed at his empty glass. The giant
nodded, reached behind himself, and pulled a bottle of tequila off the
shelf. When he poured, the worm sloshed into the glass with the fiery
liquid. He looked at Jay.
Jay shrugged.
'Leave it. It adds texture.'
The bartender started to turn away. Jay said, 'I'm looking for
somebody.'
'Yeah?' He locked gazes with Jay.
'Yeah. A shooter.' He pulled the smudged drawing from his jacket
pocket. This was the composite put together by the computer artist,
based on the HAARP guards' description of 'Dick Grayson.'
The bartender never took his gaze from Jay's.
'Don't know him, ain't seen him' he said.
'Look at the picture.'
'Don't need to. Won't matter.'
'So that's how it is.'
'Yeah. That's how it is.'
Jay grabbed the bartender by a clump of chest hair and jerked him
against the edge of the bar. With his free hand, he pulled an
