The Most Dangerous Dame

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Sure Mick. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Maxine screeched out into the rainy streets. Water puddles became glimmering pools of gold as the city brightened in wake of the rising sun. The downpour had trickled to a light drizzle and sunlight streamed through breaks in the clouds, shimmering off the glistening buildings and endless air traffic of the Uppers. It was still murky in the city depths, where the asphalt steamed in the shadows of the colossal structures. The billowing fog created the illusion of driving through clouds. A few streamlined skimmers hummed quietly on the road, repulsors winking as they kept the vehicles hovering above the blacktop. Maxine rumbled past, her Telsa fusion engine more than a match for the less powerful electric skimmers.

I gazed through the moon roof. “Look at that daylight. You’d almost believe it was the genuine article.”

Natasha placed a hand on my shoulder as she gazed up. “How do you know it’s not? Maybe the shielding allows natural sunlight to come through.”

“Not on your life, kiddo. Nothing penetrates the shield around this Haven. The dome around the city is all smoke and mirrors, digital projections of night and day.”

“I don’t get it,” Benny said. “Why put all the extra dough into optical illusions? Why not just make the shield transparent?”

“Cause then we’d see how wasted things are on the outside.” I grinned. “That’d be unsettling for the zombies who’d rather forget they live in a giant fish bowl.”

Benny shrugged and leaned back in his seat. “So where we headed, Mick?”

“To the last place I wanna go, to see the last person I wanna see.”

He cut a sideways glance my direction. “You funnin’ me, or dodging the question?”

“One and the same, Benny. Hold on — got a message coming through.” I slid my cuff back to glance at my holoband. The message that pulsed from the display was about the last thing I expected to see.

“Gotta take a detour. Maxine, head for the Red Light District. La Lupanar, specifically.”

“Recalibrating for the quickest route, Mr. Trubble.”

Benny leaned over, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Hey, I’m always down to shoot the woo and all, but you wanna flip some skirts with her around?” He jerked a thumb toward the back seat.

“Not what you think, Ace.”

“La Lupanar.” Natasha’s voice was oddly hesitant. “I… remember that place.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry to bring up bad memories, sweetheart. But this important.”

“Why are we going there, Mick?”

“No clue.” My voice turned grim. “Esmeralda just said she was calling in that favor I owe her. And coming from a boss dame like her that pretty much means I’m not gonna like what we find when we get there.”

La Lupanar wasn’t the type of joint you visited during the day. At night the Victorian-styled manse projected an air of majesty and class despite the debauched goings-on that took place inside. Sunlight did nothing to enhance the allure. The joint’s hidden flaws were on full display in daylight: cracks in the bricks, mud spatters and moss that decorated the outer walls, faded shingles on the roof.

But the biggest difference was the joint being closed. That was decidedly foreboding for a cathouse, even at sunup.

“I got a bad feeling about this. Natasha, you might wanna stay here with Maxine. Me and Benny will check the joint out.”

She hesitated only for a second before shaking her head. “No. I’ll go with you.”

I knew better than to argue. The last time she’d been to La Lupanar we were on the run. The Red-Eyed Killer had murdered Natasha’s parents and was keen on cutting Natasha down to finish out the contract. I stashed her at La Lupanar for safekeeping while I handled the situation. When I came back, Natasha was deep in a state of shock, burying her emotions and even the memories of the murders deep in her subconscious. It took sheer guts to face that again.

She exited the back seat and stared at the pleasure house. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly and squared her shoulders.

I tilted my Bogart over my eyes. “You ready?”

She steeled her face and nodded. “Ready.”

“Let’s go.”

A tall blond dame in a security uniform gave us a suspicious once-over at the door. Her chiseled biceps were bigger than mine, and her oversized jaw looked tough enough to hammer nails with. That was a direct contrast to her high-pitched, ultra feminine voice. “Are you like, the Troubleshooter or something?”

I tipped my Bogart respectfully. “I shoot trouble or something, so I guess that’s me.”

Her bland expression revealed that my charm and witty banter had sailed right over her head. “Whatever. I thought you’d be taller. Follow me.”