The steampunk detective-part2

The double suspension train was always crowded like a stale can of sardines, even at night. A luck the downtown district was just three stations away.

By mutant standards, the skyclub was just an average place to go but the segregated humans did not feel particularly at home, at least on my side of the counter. Right now, dull electronica was being played in the background. For one reason or the other MC Final was big with the labor-trafficking club owner and was often seen around the place, if what the Ghr’ss woman told me was right. If I had to believe that sister, the job I was to perform was to be a piece of cake. But after boring myself to death at the counter for a certain period of time, it looked to me like the joint did not feature any MC Final right now.
I put my problem up to the bartender-robot.
-“So you must be this guy Marvin”, it says after a while. “MC said the lady insect was going to send some jerky private cop to meet him”.
– “News move around pretty fast here”.
– “Not as fast as you were swigging down all them bourbons since you entered the scenery, Mister”.
-“ I did not know your kind of machinery was equipped to count, pal”.
– “MC Final has left instructions for you, that is if you’re still able to memorize some simple message”.
-“ Is your humour always so phoney or is it malfunctioning only with humans”?
-“ Humor and human is all the same to me, Mister:both make me laugh”.
I shrugged my shoulders. It often goes like that even in joints without “no human allowed” policy.
-“ It’s neat to consider someone spent the time to conceive a crazy, useless talking bar counter like you”, I said and hoped the robot would give me a break.
A group of mutants sitting in our immediate surroundings was shied away by our cosy exchange so we remained alone in the counter zone.The bartender-robot became immediately chummier and said :
– “Take it easy man, I had to pretend : normal persons may find it suspicious if I was chewing the rag with plain ordinary humans”.
-“ No offence taken. Now what about MC Final”?
– “Don’t expect him here ; MC is always moving over the speed limit everytime that insect lady may show up. My boss here owes him a favour and is OK we filter traffic to his hideout. You’ll find MC at the Tanaka bar”
– “That’s fine. Now tell me, after I move to this Tanaka Bar, do I find this is some kind of paper chase game or will the hare still be in that joint by the time I arrive”?
The inamovible parts of the robot’s face almost gave the impression he was smiling
-“ It’s more a den than a joint, Mister. And it’s right in the middle of the human slums ; so MC Final ain’t afraid of no funny business from them mutant insects in there”.
A careful observer would have notice me wince slightly. Though a human myself I must admit the human zone is not a place for you if you are a quiet, peaceful person looking for a super relaxing, lifestyle experience. The normal rules for killing apply by night, but even by day you don’t want to take someone special on your first date there.
And if it’s possible to have a bad reputation even in a slum it’s definitely the case with that Tanaka Bar.
-“ So you want to watch your step when you get there”, concluded the robot. “And I don’t say that because we are afraid you might slip on the carpet floor”.
After ordering a last one for the road, I went on my way. That skyclub joint is just not for me. The atmosphere is not hip and the mix of people there is not big on diversity.
With no good feeling in my stomach I set out for the slums and the Tanaka Bar. I definitely had a hunch the next few hours would not be uneventful.
I drew a long sigh. As Irving Berlin would have said round the time my ancestors were abducted from Earth : let’s go slumming.

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