“Like hell we do. They just got in the way. Wrong place, wrong time.”
“No way. We created this mess. We have to fix it.”
“You’re crazy and stupid, Rusco.” He walked away.
“Maybe,” I called after him, “but I have to do what I have to do. You can bug off and do what suits you. Blame it on my conscience.”
He turned back. “Don’t forget, she tried to kill us.”
“Yeah, she also saved our asses—if you remember. If she hadn’t pegged Sharki after you did your fancy roll out of that tractor, think you’d be walking around whole right now?”
Marty made a sullen noise in his throat. He knew it was true.
* * *
We scouted out the scum dives on Sunset Boulevard. Night time was creepy time in Tyrone City and Sunset Boulevard, ‘sunset’ being a joke—if you could call any of their greenish, haze-covered twilights ‘sunset’.
The first, Cuckoo’s, was the closest to a high end tits-and-ass bar you’d ever get on this scumbucket slag-heap of an industrial world. Front and center were three women climbing poles on a stage up through colored gas tubes, naked and oiled. I wondered what kept those girls at their climbing best. Certainly Deidra would not be doing it of her own free will. Sure enough, she was in Tube #2—doing the nasty, naked ascent while men hooted and jeered in the audience. Patrons inserted their gambling chips into a ‘holo jug’ at the foot of the stage to put in bids for their pick, who they thought would make it to the top first. If any of the climbers lagged, electro shocks were administered from the side to jolt unwilling climbers into action. Hard to force a happy face out of any of those nimble gals. Come to think of it, none of their painted faces looked too happy.
With bonus prizes awarded to those who picked winners and the runners-up, this was a win-win scenario. Nobody in the audience could lose. Kind of like electric bingo. Incredible and sad, but true. This is what entertainment had devolved to.
Marty shook his head in resignation. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope, this is real life, Mar, in all its gory clarity. Deidra does look good though.”
“She doesn’t look too happy.”
I saw the blue gleam of the slave mark on the left side of her neck. She wouldn’t like that. Too free-spirited. Heard the marks were permanent…forced to wear a scarf for life.
The computerized MC voice spoke over the sound system: “And the winner of the first race is Alfie Borg of Tyrone City! The main prize: a special romp with Miss Angel Heart of TUBE #2. And to go, a stuffed pink elephant, something that Alfie can take back to the missus at home.” Bright banners and silver stars and gold spangles lit and fired on the wide screen holo displays spread above the stage.
At a middle table Alfie grinned, a broad gleaming grin on a face with a lot of horse teeth.
“You can claim your prize in the back, Mr. Borg, Foyer 2,” the MC voice confirmed. Angel and the other two women were shuttled off backstage while new ones strutted onstage to take their places.
Alfie hauled his heavy bulk up from his table and waddled to the back of the sleazy place, waving the blue smoke away from his nose, lit a dusky hue by the colored light. We trailed him with grim resolve.
On pretense of using the men’s room halfway down, we headed down the hall after him past the bouncer guarding the entrance to Foyer 2. He ducked into the washroom and Marty and I strolled in at a leisurely pace. Out of sight and earshot, I put a hand on Big Alf’s shoulder. “You’re a lucky man, Alf.”
He turned to face me, his piglet eyes searching my face. “Well, you know how it is. Thought I’d claim my meat early on. Been doing some heavy drinking, didn’t want it to interfere with my pleasure. Get my business done early and I have more oomph for extra play later.”
I nodded in sympathy. “That’s a wise plan, Alfie. You’re one of the smarter ones here.”
He beamed.
“Actually me and Marty were just wondering if there’d be leftovers for us, after a lucky man like you was done. Angel Heart’s a mighty classy piece of woman.”
He garbled out a gobbling sound. “Not likely, I’m in top form. Now shove off. Don’t want to think of my beauty being used by other men, at least not too soon.”
“That’s a mighty lofty ambition.” I grabbed his hand as if to read his palm, feigning a bit of the old drunken love.
“Hey, you poofster, what’s the meaning of this?” He took a drunken swing at me and I sandbagged him in the gut. The breath sailed out of him and Marty caught his limp form and dragged him over to the nearest urinal.
“Wait here. I’ll be back soon.”
Marty nodded and kicked open the stall door and pulled his new deadweight buddy in after him.
I sauntered back down the hall, whistling a jaunty tune, following the path Alfie would have followed had he been conscious. I grinned my cheeky grin, thumbing the coin-sized explosive in my left pocket, wondering how I could use it to advantage.
At a door labeled, ‘Angel Heart’, a muscled attendant looked me up and down with disinterested eyes. “Name?
“Alfie Borg.”
“Well, Alfie, tonight’s your lucky night. Go right in. Rap twice when you’re done. Angel’s ready and waiting.”
I saluted, gave him an ear-to-ear grin. He locked the door behind me.
Deidra was slumped on a small cot, her face flushed. She jerked up to her feet on seeing me, a hoarse rasp in
