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Chuckling, she returned to her huge lucite rocking chair. "We got the most
successful high-tech whorehouse this side of the border," she told him as she
resumed rocking. "But since when did you go in for andy hookers
"I don't," he replied. "I'm looking for a friend of mine who's supposed to be
here."
"Aw now, honey, I hate to interrupt a customer." \"He's not a customer. This
guy's a reporter with GLA Week-Ogden Swires."
"Him, yeah. He's doing a story on the Arcade." She chuckled, slapping at one
chrome knee. "That faxzine is supposed to have a readership of around four
million, so an article there']l be great publicity. You just came down from
GLA, didn't you? How many of those four million you figure are frustrated and
horny?" "Most all of them."
"Exactly, so a story in that rag of Swires' will boost business. Local color
and nookie's a great combination." She ceased rocking, pushed down on the arms
of her chair and shoved to a standing position.
"I've put on a lot of weight since I knew you in GLA, honey." "How's that?"
"Hell, I had to have lots of extra security gadgets built in,"
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explained Mama Reina. "Tourists get a lot goofier than locals. But now I'm
equipped to stun them, tranquilize them and even perform a little minor
surgery if need be. I can also clear a Bam card in less than thirty seconds."
"Notice you've added some new rubies, too."
Smiling, the robot madam tapped her cheek. "Yeah, the gift of an admirer. I
got some swell new diamonds, too, but they don't show when
I'm wearing this dress," she said, waddling toward the door. "Your newshound
buddy's in the Voyeur Lounge. I'll personally escort you there, lover."
There were one hundred and twenty large vidmonitor screens built into the
milky plasglass walls of the large, oval Voyeur Lounge. Four tiers of
three-foot-square screens, each with a wide, gilded catwalk for guests who
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wanted to stroll. At various spots along each catwalk comfortable air chairs
were placed for those who wanted to enjoy an extended view of the activity on
any particular screen.
The black GLA reporter was up on the second level, walking slowly along and
muttering into the recorder-mike in his hand. Something like thirty customers
were enjoying the screens on the four tiers.
"Hey, Chop Suey," shouted Mama Reina at a Chinese tourist who was
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aiming his camera at a row of viewscreens. "You were supposed to chec]
your goddamn camera. No pictures allowed in here--so hand it over pronto."
"I wasn't informed of this," he replied, leaning out over the golden railing
on the third level. "Being an accredited sociologist and not some perverse
thrill-seeker, I intend to employ my camera until--"
"Nuts." The big robot swung up her right arm and aimed a chrome forefinger at
his chest.
A thin, crackling beam of greenish light shot out of the tip of the metal
finger, hitting the Chinese square in the forehead. He gasped, teetered for
about nine seconds and then came falling down toward the floor.
Mama Reina scooted swiftly over, caught the unconscious customer before he
smacked the silvery carpeting, dumped him on the nearest sofa.
Smiling at Jake, she tromped on the fallen camera with her spiked heel.
"No pictures, you dinks," she announced to the rest of the voyeurs.
They returned to their viewing.
Giving the robot madam a nod of thanks, Jake climbed up to the second tier.
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"On Screen 4z there's an overweight, pudgy man of nearly fifty enjoying free
fall sex with two silver-plated nymphet androids," Swims was dictating into
his recorder. "Screen 43 shows us a fat, middle-aged lady being tied to a pain
bed by a naked male android wearing a sombrero." He glanced over at the
approaching Jake. "About breakfast."
"It's okay, you were tired." Jake grinned. "No need to apologize, Og, for
falling asleep in the middle of the meal."
"I wasn't tired." He clicled off the recorder, let his hand swing down to his
side. "I make it a point to get sufficient sleep, even when I'm covering a
war."
"Whatever your reasons for passing out, Miss Kittridge wasn't offended.
So let's simply forget it."
Swims eyed him. "I've done some checking since you ditched me, Jake."
He slumped into one of the white air chairs "You're working for
Bascom's Cosmos outfit these days. You're supposed to be finding the missing
Professor Kittridge and his daughter. Seems you've already located Beth
Kittridge, so why the hell are you hanging around
Cuidado?"
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"There's still her dad to locate."
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"Did she hypnotize me?"
"Nope, and she didn't drug you either. Neither did I. You really,
simply--dozed off."
"There's something odd going on. I can sense it."
"I hear you've been cleared to cross over into Chihuahua to interview
Warbride."
"How'd you find that out7 I only just--"
"I want to see her, too. But my initial contact fell through." Swires was
distracted by one of the voyeur screens. "Romancing somebody in a vat full of
mud doesn't appeal to me. But then neither does the idea of watching somebody
romancing somebody in a vat of mud. For that matter, I don't see the fun in
romancing somebody in a vat full of mud and knowing that somebody's watching [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]