The Tahiti Lounge Detective

Chap. 1

It was just another gorgeous day in cyber-space, the kind you could sink your teeth into like a chicken fajita.

I was on the corner playing mumbly-peg with the local minority boys when I felt her voice crawl up my spine with all the subtlety of a velvet sledgehammer.

I turned around and there she stood, the cut of her jib smacking me in the face like a bag of wet spam. She’d be a hard dame to argue with, I thought. Her chest made convincing points, and her agruments would arrive long before she did.

She wore black, a tight calf length number that showed she had more curves than a mountain road. Her dress was tight as the front of my pants when I looked at her. I love a dame in black, but I noticed her eye the bulge in the front of my pants at the same time I saw the bulge in her purse. I decided I better get down to business.

“What can I do for you sister?” I muttered around the coffin nail I was sucking down.

I could see that she didn’t care for my choice of words, but she decided to bite that lovely tongue of hers instead.

“I need help,” her voice pounded up my spine, “and the word in the rooms is that you’re the person to see for help.”

“Yes, sister, help is my middle name. Actually, I have no middle name, only an initial...”

I could see that she was getting impatient so I invited her into my “office.”

*****

When the powers that be created the cyber-universe there were several unforeseen consequences. One was that when people went into the chat rooms pieces of thoughts and ideas flaked off from their conversations. After awhile these “flakes” started to cohere and to form cyber-beings. The flakes live in the cyber-rooms and for all practical purposes cannot be told apart from the chatters.

I’m one of those flakes. My names is Moonlight, Al_B._Moonlight. I hang out at the Tahiti Lounge, a friendly little backwater dive that can be found a few doors down from ChatControl. I play piano in the lounge and have a detective agency on the side. Actually, I live in the lounge, have a cot behind the bar. There’s no other place for me to go.

*****

I opened the door to the Tahiti and let her go in first. A gent always lets a dame go ahead. Not only do you get a better view, if someone shoots you’ve got a shield.

We were met by the usual din:

· Cyclone11 says, "chello"

· Twistie says, "hey moon what's up"

· Chattycathie enters.

· Bummer10 blinks at Twinkletoes5 in disbelief.

· Ambit says, "hi Twink"

· Prfctgod leaves.

· Chattycathie leaves.

· Squirreliegal enters.

· Twinkletoes5 says, "Hi Ambit!!!"

· Cyclone11 leaves.

· Twinkletoes5 says, "well gotta go catch you all in about 1 hour or so"

· Warf jumps off the diving board.

· Bummer10 snorkles behind the bar.

· Alma says, "Bye Twink more 'puter probs?"

It was a typical Tahiti afternoon. Someone had made a swimming pool in the middle of the bar again. Someone else had filled it with jello. And the hormones were so thick you could cut them with a knife.

I directed her to the piano and took a seat. It was time for my afternoon set.

“What’s your poison, sweetheart?”

She dug her nails into my arm, asked for a strawberry daiquiri, and hissed she was no one’s sweetheart, especially mine. I looked at her with admiring eyes. I like a dame with spunk. I ordered her drink and my usual, a mineral water, neat.

Her perfume was as intoxicating as a good steak on the grill. I tried to slide up to the piano but discovered something blocking my way.

She looked at me with eyes as cold as the daiquiri she poured on my pants and hissed, “Will you get your mind on business? Figure out which head you’re going to think with!”

I played “Feelings” while the waiter brought me a towel. I watched her as I played, intrigued by the little drops of sweat on her upper lip and the glare cast generally in my direction. I could love a woman like that, I thought, if she didn’t kill me first.

My thoughts tripped over themselves like a drunk stumbling down a sidewalk. There had been a dame like her. We laid on the beach, rolled, kissed, the waves and seaweed splashed over us...I was brought back to reality by the playful jab of her index finger in my right kidney. She looked as mad as a father who caught his daughter in the back seat on prom night.

I had been “clearing my cache” again. One of the problems with being a flake is that you are really a collection of other people’s memories. Sometimes it’s useful, most times it’s just annoying, but occasionally it could be as painful as that nail she must sharpen at least twice a day.

“Are you listening?” she hissed.

“Sure, go ahead, sister.”

“Look, read my lips. I am not a dame or your sister or your sweetheart. My name is Daydreak12, got that?”

“Sure, babe.”

She shrieked like the last doll who saw me in my thong. She sighed and tried to calm down.

“Okay, Moonlight, here’s the deal. A friend of mine was kidnapped outside Rick’s Cafe. I want you to find him. You interested?”

“Sure, swe...ah Daybreak. What’s the scoop?”

“We stopped by Rick’s for a late cup of coffee. When we came out three large men pushed me down, dragged my friend into a waiting red sedan, and sped off past ChatControl. I tried to get the network i.d. off the car, but it was dark and I couldn’t see it.”

“Any ransom note, calls?”

“No, but one of them did drop this.”

She handed me a card. The card had no writing, but the picture on it made my huevos rancheros want to crawl up in my throat. My blood ran as cold as the wet stain on my pants as I looked at the most dreaded sight in cyber-space, the flag of the Bates Boyz. I had encountered that mob before and barely got out with the skin on my teeth. I didn’t want to do it again, but, hey, I was always a sucker for a good set of legs.

“What’s your friend’s handle?”

“Ezyriter8.”

“Know what he does outside?”

“I think he’s a computer programmer or something.”

“Okay, I’ll take the case for 50 cyber-bucks plus expenses.”

“How will we stay in touch?”

“Just come back to the Tahiti and ask for me. If I’m not here ask for my secretary, Twinkletoes5.”

I watched her carry that magnificent carriage out the door. God made some dames for a guy like me just to watch walk. She wasn’t one of them, but she sure would do for the moment.

I let the sounds of the lounge engulf me as I planned my next move:

· Whiplash enters.

· Diva99 caresses Bummer10 on the cheek.[0;m

· SinCity says, "are u 99"

· Prfctgod sings in the shower

· Bummer10 says, "dont forget to use soap"

· Giblome pushes ambit in the pool he he

· Bummer10 says, "thanx"

· Chattycathie says, "sure am"

· Rolond69 says, "Hi, Gax!"

· Twistie could use one of Almas special sunrises

· Whiplash easts popcorn and watches the parade

I stood up and cleared out my tip jar. Stuffing the bills in my pocket, I headed out the door. It was time to go to Rick’s for a cup of joe.
Chap. 2

Rick’s Cafe is located a few doors down from the Tahiti, heading toward the interchange where GenChat links up with the other chat areas. It is a little greasy spoon, where you can still get a steak and eggs breakfast with enough cholesterol to drop an elephant in its tracks, or where a lonely guy can go on a Friday night for a friendly cup of joe.

As I walked down the street, I noticed a couple of the private rooms had been rented. One had a sign that read Hubby_Is_Gone_&_I_Love_Leather, the other Elvis_Has_Entered_The_Building. I made a mental note to check out the second if I had time. As for the first one, I didn’t even want to know.

When I got to Rick’s I remembered to snub out my coffin nail before I went in. The last time I forgot and Cookie2 almost took off my head with a meat cleaver. I opened the door and the smell of greasy food and the sounds of chat washed over me like a wave of warm urine in a hot bath:

· Wendy32 too late Wendy 100 gets hit with incoming potato salad

· Householdsix wonders when twerp will realize he could chew his way out of this

· Panda_cas gets out a hose and rinses everyone off

· Xmaskid unties twerp

· Hunter-28 just realized he walked into the middle of a food fight

· Sunkisses leaves, heading for a private room.

· Xmaskid . o O ( Can the term "Chunder" be defined??? )

· Householdsix says, "lets attack and find out"

· Twerp21 crawls for the door

· Householdsix trips trwep, he slides into the syrup

· Xmaskid says, "squarts whipped cream at wendy"

· Hunter-28 wonders about Wendy and her chocolate pudding........

Yes, it was your usual afternoon at Rick’s. I noticed Rick himself was working today. I could see from his apron that the special was tuna surprise. I decided I wouldn’t eat.

I quietly slid into a booth near the door. I didn’t want to deal with Rick. We had a disagreement going over my tab.

CaniHelpYou came up to my table. I could see from her uniform that the special was definitely tuna surprise. I ordered a cup of joe, black. When she brought my coffee she sneezed on the cup. I pushed it away and reached for a glass of water but noticed that the glass had not been recently washed. The lipstick prints on it looked familiar.

Then I heard a voice that made me want to crawl under the table and hide.

“Oh Albie,” it grated up my back and hit me in the temples with all the grace of a hatchet, “it’s your friend GypsyQueen!”

I could get a pretty good handle on most of the clowns that tread the rooms of this cyburg but had never quite figured out GypsyQueen. Was she some flamboyant doll out looking for a few quick thrills or a pimple faced teenage boy pulling his pud at the computer? On top of that, one night someone had slipped a micky in my mineral water, and I woke up in a locked private room with her. I still had nightmares about it.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you Albie! *Kiss, kiss!* When are you coming to my private room again?”

“About the time I really want to enjoy a good case of the bytes. Have you seen Weazelboy around?”

“He’s at the end of the counter, but why would you want that twerp when you could have luscious little ol’ me?”

I would have told her, but the list was too long. I initialed the bill, left a modest tip, and went over to see Weazelboy. He was my main snitch, one of the best sources of information in cyber-space.

“Hi, Weaz, how’s it going?” I asked as I slid onto a stool next to him.

As Weazelboy sat down his fork, I noticed that someone had been playing pattycake with his face. I also noticed that I had sat in something rather sticky. I didn’t want to know what it was.

“Hi, Moonlight, what do you want?” his squeaky voice slammed into my already aching brain.

“Heard someone was nabbed by some goons outside here the other night. Know anything about it?”

I slid a cyber-lincoln under Weaz’s cup. Usually that made him sit up and sing like a heavy metal rocker on speed, but this time he was scared. He touched the side of his face and looked ready to jump on the next banana boat out of this cyber-joint.

“Hold on Weaz. It looks like someone’s fist has been having a discussion with your face. Is it connected with the info I want?”

I slipped my last abe in his hand. Weaz looked about ready to go down like a hooker with round heels. Then I felt a rather beefy hand on my shoulder lifting me about three feet off the filthy floor. It was Rick.

“Hi ya Moonlight. Ya’s cum to pay up yer tab?” he asked while cigar foul breath spittled soot into my face.

“Rick, just let me talk to Weaz for a minute, and then we’ll discuss my tab.”

“You’s ’ll discuss nutin’!” he said as he frisked my pockets. “An’ sintze ya’s seems to be short a cash like usual, dere’s sum boyz dat want to talk to ya.”

I helplessly watched Weazelboy bolt out the front door as Rick threw me out the back. I stood up to dust off my suit and noticed Rejectedisk, one of the Bates Boyz, lumbering in my direction. It looked like the start of a long evening.

He picked me up by the lapels and growled into my face with breath worse than Rick’s, “So ya’s been askin’ questuns, Moonlight. We’s dun’t like ya’s askin’ questuns.”

As he threw me into some nearby trash cans I wondered why so many cyber-low lifes had to talk with such bad spelling. Rejectedisk tossed me to one of the other thugs who acquainted me to his new set of brass knuckles. That goon then slammed me on the concrete and drop-kicked me to the third. I think you get the idea.

After the first few minutes you lose track of how long or severe a beating gets. You reach a threshold where it even starts to become almost pleasant. But these weren’t your normal goons. When I started to lose consciousness they would slap me back around and shove a picture of GypsyQueen in my face. I would scream, and they would continue.

Eventually, they figured they had made their point and tossed me back into the garbage cans. As they walked away I tried to crawl out of the alley but blacked out in a the middle of a pile of dog waste.

I awoke to the sound of a shoe caressing my ribs several times. My eyes started to focus, and I saw the face of the last person I really wanted to see at that moment, besides GypsyQueen.

“Get up, Moonlight! We need to go down to the station for a little talk!” the voice slammed like a jackhammer into my throbbing head.

It was OfficerBob. I laid my head down on the gritty pavement and allowed my aching face to kiss the cool concrete. It was going to be a long evening.
Chap. 3

Looming over the cyber-universe like an Oedipal image in a Freudian dream was ChatControl, the nerve center, the hub, the brains of the brawn that was ChatWorld. From here the powers-that-be controlled the network and monitored the comings and goings of the chatters. Little went on that they were not aware of.

On one side of the gray hulking building, facing the street on the first floor was the GenChat Police Precinct. The front was crowded with cyber-hookers and other various low lifes who had been arrested that night. I was in one of the back offices having my chat with OfficerBob.

Bob and I went back a long ways. We may have been partners, I’m not sure. It was those flake memories again. Possibly, he once saved my life or I saved his. Who knows? Anyway, right now he obviously didn’t very much care for me.

“Okay, Moonlight,” he growled in a low voice that tore into my pounding head, “I think it’s time you spilled the beans.”

“I thought that was Rick’s job.”

“Very funny. Now why were you in that alley with some of the Bates Boyz.”

“Just having a...wait a minute, you saw them beating me?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t stop them?”

He grinned and answered, “I have a boring job. I have to get my thrills where I can.”

He threw me a towel and went to his desk. He opened a drawer and started to pull out a bottle of whiskey, but, remembering it was me, reached back in and got a bottle of mineral water. I took a long cool swig and felt the water hit my throat like a set of headlights crossing the face of some lonely hitchhiker.

I asked if he had any cyberprofin. He threw me a bottle, and I fumbled with the childproof cap. I finally gave up and tore it off with my teeth. The pills spilled like a choirboy at confession. I managed to save four and downed them quickly.

“So, Moonlight, why were the Bates Boyz rearranging your profile?”

“We were having a discussion about the upcoming cyber-ball tournament. I guess they didn’t like the teams I picked.”

“Ha! Ha! Moonlight, you’re quite the comedian. Could it perhaps have something to do with the disappearance of someone outside Rick’s?”

I wasn’t surprised that Bob knew about it. There wasn’t much that happened in this crummy little cyburg that slipped by him. I didn’t know how much he knew and didn’t want him to know how little I did, so I poker-faced him and said nothing.

He poured himself a glass of rotgut and moved the light a little closer to me. My eyes were starting to ache like a heartbroken teenage girl who got a “Dear Jane” letter from that special boy after he went away to college. Despite the cyberprofin my head didn’t feel much better and my ribs felt like the backside of a football after kickoff.

“I don’t like you, Moonlight,” he growled. “You know why?”

“Perhaps a difference in our personal philosophies of life?”

“Oh, you’re busting my gut, Moonlight...How about if I bust your chops?”

He placed a fist about the size of my head in front of my face. At that moment I really didn’t care. After the professional job Rejectedisk and his friends did on me there wasn’t much left to hurt.

Bob must have realized that because he walked away from me, stared out the window, and sipped his drink. The only sounds I could hear were my breathing, his slurping, and a few random screams from some suspects being questioned down the hall.

When he talked again he voice was quieter.

“No, Moonlight, I don’t like you. You’re scum. No, you’re worse than scum. Scum are scum but scum like you who turned your back on the badge and walked away to play piano in a two bit dive and stick your nose into other people’s business for money, well you’re just scummier than the rest of the scum.

“I’m going to do you a favor tonight, Moonlight. I don’t know why. Maybe it was the talk I had with GypsyQueen while you were ‘asleep.’ But here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to keep looking out this window. When I turn around your scrawny carcass better be out of my office and out of my life. I don’t want to hear from you, I don’t want to know you exist.

“And if you come near this case I’ll have you locked up faster than ex-lax running after buttermilk. You understand? Now get outta here!”

I limped my aching body to the door. I turned to say something but thought better of it and walked out.

As I closed the door, I heard Bob say, half to himself, “Good luck, buddy. You’re gonna need it on this one. We’re all gonna need it on this one...”

It was time to go back to the Tahiti and see if TwinkleToes had any messages for me.
Chap. 4

When I got outside, I quickly lit up a coffin nail and inhaled the raspy smoke deep into my lungs. I leaned against a lamp post coughing like a consumptive old fool. My eyes filled with tears, my body trembled in agony from the inhalation. God, it felt good. Since they put up “No Smoking” signs in every building in this section, a guy like me had to go outside often or risk going into the shakes.

I limped my aching body back toward the Tahiti. This had not been one of my better days. I wondered how the Bates Boyz had found out so quickly I was on the case. I also contemplated Bob’s threat. He could squash me like a bug, and I knew it. Still, there was the money and that dame, especially the dame. She had gotten underneath my skin like a fungus. I decided to continue the investigation.

I snubbed out my coffin nail and opened the door to the lounge:

· Alma wonders if everyone is froze

· Strangeboy Baby I love you so...I want you to know...I am going to miss your love the min u walk out that door...Please don't go away

· Hosegerl dances gracefully for her friends.

· Strangeboy Loves HOSES toes on hairy chest

· ToushTouch slams her drink, hoping maybe if she gets drunk, she will be less bored

· Alma says, "kewl"

· Pnethouse1 says, "You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss you lips.... And there's no tenderness like before in your fingertips..."

· Strangeboy is lost in a time wrap......

· Bummer10 never noticed the j.c. penneys store behind the bar before

· Prfctgod says, "If it takes me long to write back it is because I am eating so please don't mind me"

· Kration says, "My wife left me for another woman...my dog bite me...my cats scratched me and got fired....and you"

I could see the kids were still having a good time. I carried my body over to the piano and thumped down like a load of wet socks. My head beat like the Rice University Marching Band playing “Louie Louie” and my hands felt about as useful as one of those infomercials for a psychic loveline.

I was about ready to nod off when I heard a concerned voice from behind me say, “Oh Al, what happened to you this time?”

It was TwinkleToes5, my secretary. She was a good kid from the outside. She had her own business out there, but I could never remember what it was. She came in here every day to handle my paper work, pay my bills, patch me up, and talk over a friendly cup of joe. She wouldn’t take money for doing it, which is good because I usually didn’t have any.

“Just a little disagreement with some goons over how I’m handling a case, Twink,” I winced in her general direction as she ran to the restroom for some towels to clean me up.

“Oh Al,” she said as she wiped my face with a cool wet cloth, “will you ever learn?”

“I guess not Twink. It’s not in my nature, and I need the money.”

I leaned back and closed my eyes. The towel felt as good as the scent of the perfume on her soft hands. Twink was attractive, a real knockout, but whatever would she want with a flake like me, I thought. She had a life, a real life. All I was was a bunch of random thoughts flying around a computer network.

I opened my eyes and watched her work. There was a real look of concern on her face. Our eyes met like some scene out of a Serge Leone movie. I was captivated, transfixed by the those bright orbs that smiled with care. If she ever made a move, I thought, I’d have about as much chance as Bambi’s mother.

The mood was broken by someone requesting that I play “Misty.” I turned around and started to plunk the ivories while Twink walked back to the restroom to rinse out the towel and a few of my things. My hands ached about as bad as my head, but somehow I made it through the song. As long as no one requested a polka I’d be okay.

“So what’s the case?” she asked when she returned.

“Some dame had a friend lifted outside Rick’s. I thought he probably just changed names to ditch her, but, hey, she was willing to cough up 50 for me to look. But then the Bates Boyz got involved...”

“The Bates Boyz! Oh Al, they almost killed you last time! Were they the ones who worked you over?”

“Yeah, they played me like a hockey puck in the alley behind Rick’s. Then I had a discussion with OfficerBob...”

“OfficerBob! Oh Al, you two fight all the time. I just wish you could get along like in the old days.”

I shrugged my shoulders and said nothing. To me water under the bridge is better than three in a basket. Besides, I had no idea what she was talking about. Damn flake memories, anyway.

“So what did Bob say?”

“He told me to get lost, take a hike, catch a trolley to nowheresville.”

“So are you going to drop the case?”

“Fat chance, Twink.”

“Because you want the money...”

“Guy’s gotta eat.”

“And you’re attracted to her...”

“Do wild popes shit in the forest?”

“Oh Al...”

She turned and started to straighten up the table next to the piano. I thought that I detected a quiver in her voice and a tear in her eye but decided it was probably my imagination or dust in the room. So I sat still and watched. She was one fine sight to see from behind.

I broke the silence by asking, “Any messages Twink?”

“Well, GypsyQueen stopped by to see how you were doing.”

“I asked if there were any messages.”

“Oh, yes, this call came in about a half hour ago.”

She handed me a slip of paper. When her hand touched me it sent a shot of static electricity up my arm that I felt all the way to the inside of my boxers. I jumped like a felon when the padre comes into his cell right before the execution. For a second I sat there transfixed by the glow of the lights on her long red nails. Then I shook my head and turned to the note:

Moonlight,

We must have a conference. Will be at the MeetMarket in LoveChat.

D. Break

I wasn’t excited by the prospect. I didn’t really care to leave GenChat, especially for some low life dive like the MeetMarket. And I didn’t like the idea of going to LoveChat. The last time I was there I had to beat off the advances like a spendthrift with new credit card. Still, I had taken the job, and I couldn’t get that magnificent carriage out of mind.

“Twink, lend me a cyber-jackson. I’ve got to go to the MeetMarket.”

“Oh Al...”
Chap. 5

I straightened my tie as I got off the trolley outside the MeetMarket. It was a hot day, and I felt like a Bedouin on the wrong of the dune at noon. My shirt was soaked and sweat streamed down my face like Niagara Falls. I looked picture perfect for a trip to the LoveChat section.

Like I said, I didn’t enjoy coming to this part of cyber-space. I had just arrived and already the cyber-hookers were crawling over me like flies on a meat wagon. Every two-bit thug and college girl out on the make was eyeing me for the special signal that meant I might be interested, a live pulse.

I lit up a coffin nail and delighted in the sensation tickling down my lungs like I the dreams I had of Daybreak’s hands entering certain parts of my clothing. I opened the door and entered the Babylon that was the MeetMarket:

· Luckee1 says, "yes and i enjoyed it"

· Europa2 says, "she comes with all of ken's stuff HAHAHAH"

· Layedback1 says, "Its kind of chilly,Its best to stay in and cuddle up someone,xtrtaspecial."

· Skid-bang enters.

· Europa2 says, "only women like that joke *smirk*"

· Tripod3 says, "It's about time......get on your knees!"

· Skid-bang says, "Any ladies want to chat?"

· Europa2 says, "make it up as you go along, baby"

· Trujrk says, "I want your ass..."

· Tripod3 says, "Naughtykitty, would you like a male (s) or a female(s) to join us?"

· Rotzy says hi to the room..then steps in to check out the mens butts

Yes, this was a delightful place. It made the Tahiti look like a convent. I held my hand over my wallet and looked for a table where I could wait for Daybreak. Ashes fell from my coffin nail onto the front of my shirt and mixed with the sweat. I refused to take off my hat because my hair was plastered to my head.

About the time I found a table Daybreak walked in the door. She was wearing a black leather mini-skirt that highlighted her walk and a white satin blouse that again emphasized the argument that would long reach you before she did. Her black stiletto heels raised her architecture to a pleasing level.

I pushed out a chair for her and ordered her a drink. As she sat down she sighed, reached over, and wiped the spittle from my chin. She shook that lovely head and reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper.

“If you could get you mind back on the case,” she said, “you might want to see this.”

The room was filled with smoke and was about as well lit as a bordello. I squinted to read the note:

If you ever wish to see your friend again, back your trick dog off the case. We will contact you when you need to know more. Until then cease and desist all searches. This means you, Moonlight, you piece of cat waste.

Best regards,

the Bates Boyz

While I was reading some scuzball named ArealStud came up to the table and started to hit on Daybreak. I wondered how she would handle it. After all, her packaging read “too hot to handle.” Now, I thought, we’ll see how she does when her iron is in the fire.

Her new “friend” was a real winner. His i.q. matched the angle of the slope of his forehead, and he probably had to clean his fingernails after he went for a walk. He had all of the charm and poise of a guy in a white sheet at an African Baptist church service.

Daybreak listened to his prattle, obviously amused. She asked him to hold out his hand. She took the cherry from her drink, put it in her mouth, and swished it around for a few seconds. She spit the stem into his hand. It was tied in a knot.

She gave him a wicked grin, turned to me, and said, “Shall we go private, lover?”

As I pulled my jaw off the floor and put my imagination back in my wallet, she pulled me into a private room and secured the door. Moxie, I thought, I love a dame with moxie.

*****

When the door was secured she pushed me down in a chair. I noticed that the pointed toe of one of her shoes was resting a few inches away from my rancheros.

“Just so you don’t get any ideas, Moonlight,” she hissed in that voice that thrilled me to the bottom of my spine, “or you’ll be hitting E over high C. I just wanted to mess with that boy’s head little. Either one of them.”

She laughed and swayed her way across the room. Her arguments continued to hold my attention and the mini-skirt left little to the imagination. Her scent was one that would make even an old dog sit up and do new tricks. I didn’t know if I was in love, but if not it was the next best thing.

“Well, Moonlight, what about that note?” she asked while touching up her makeup.

“It’s a sham, a ruse, a dog and pony show for the kids at the orphanage.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look they obviously need your friend for something, or we’d have a ransom demand by now. And they’re not done with him, or they would have wiped his hard disk and dropped him off somewhere like Our Lady of Continuing Repentance in ReligChat, or...”

“Or what?”

“The fuzz would have found him in a body bag tucked neatly in some corner of some hell hole like this. The Bates Boyz are tidy you know.”

She looked as upset as a girl who just received her first visit from her special monthly friend. I felt sorry for Daybreak. She was acting tough, but I knew she was just a scared kid in a league way over her head. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for the starting rotation in this one either. The silence was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife.

I reached in my pocket and pulled out my pack of coffin nails. There was one left. I lit it and sucked down the smoke from the burning dead leaves. I wadded up the empty pack and threw it on the floor. Daybreak gave me a disgusted look, picked up the pack, and put it in the trash. She stared out the window, lost in her thoughts.

“Don’t worry,” I said quietly between puffs, “we’ll find your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Moonlight. Just a good friend. What do you plan to do now?”

“Go back to GenChat and start checking out my sources. I started earlier but got distracted.”

“Yes, I noticed someone’s fist had a discussion with your face. Was it the Bates Boyz?”

“Who else, doll?”

“Don’t call me...never mind. I knew you were a jerk when I hired you.”

She walked across the room to where I sat. She reached down, took my face in her hands, and planted a kiss the size of Georgia on my mouth. Those lips were every bit as luscious as I’d dreamed they would be. The sensation leapt down my body and landed somewhere behind my zipper. If I never had to breathe again I would be happy.

As I wiped the lipstick off my face I asked, “What was that for?”

“I was curious and wanted to see if I’d like it.”

“Did you?”

She smiled and turned to the door. As I watched that magnificent carriage glide across the floor, I guessed that was all the answer I was going to get. I sighed, snubbed out my coffin nail, and braced myself to return to the Sodom and Gomorrah outside the door.

*****

As I walked back into the MeetMarket I felt a familiar hand about the size of a large ham on my shoulder. I noticed my feet were no longer on the floor. Here we go again, I thought.

“Tsk, tsk, Moonlight. I’s tought I’s told ya to’s takes a powder,” Rejectedisk slurred at me.

As I broke free I wondered why his gang couldn’t afford to buy him a spellchecker or at least some decent mouthwash. I looked at Daybreak. She was as scared as a rabbit on the wrong end of a shotgun. I knew I didn’t have much of a chance against this gorilla, but I had to try something before he turned me into a can of spam.

“Look!” I shouted and pointed behind him. “It’s Elvis!”

The goon turned his back to me, vainly looking for the king of rock an’ roll. It seemed almost too easy, like taking candy from an ape. I picked up a chair and smashed it over his head. The results were not what I expected. Instead of crumbling to the floor, Rejectedisk was only reminded of my presence and why he was there. He turned and picked me up by the throat.

Daybreak leapt to my rescue and planted swift kick to his groin. However, it only excited him. The grip on my throat tightened. I saw my life start to flash in front of my eyes. One memory in particular stood out. There was a man in black. I lay on the floor in front of him, clutching my right wrist. He was telling me that he was my father...No wait, it was another flake memory...Damn!....

As the last of my breath started to leave my body I saw a high heeled boot give the goon a love tap along side his right temple. He went down like a politician picking a bribe up off the floor. He let go of my throat as he fell. I landed like a pair of dirty sneakers and started to black out. As the room grew dim I could hear a few well placed kicks find Rejectedisk’s ribs.

The last thing I saw was Daybreak leaning over me. I reached up and touched her face. Then I was out like a batter called for the third strike.
Chap. 6

I started to come back around. Everything was still dark and felt velvety like the painting of the fours dogs playing poker that was hung behind the bar in the Tahiti. I could hear Daybreak and Twink whispering. It felt good. I didn’t want to wake up because I knew how much pain I would feel when I did.

Finally, I decided that I had to face the music and pay the piper. I slowly opened my eyes expecting to see either Twink’s concerned face or Daybreak’s arguments. Instead I saw something that hit me like a bucket of cold water in the kisser.

“Oh, Albie, honey, we were so worried about you,” GypsyQueen whispered while she wiped my face with a damp cloth.

I screamed like my rancheros were caught in a vice. I sat up quickly to try to get away from her. It was a mistake. My scream echoed like a bass drum in my head, and I could feel every ache in my body. Rejectedisk was definitely a professional. Even my fillings hurt. I couldn’t blink or breathe without wincing. If it wasn’t for Daybreak I would have dropped the case like a ton of hot bricks. Even so, I wondered if I could at least increase my retainer.

“Oh Al,” Twink said as she took the cloth from GypsyQueen, “what are we ever going to do with you?”

I looked at Daybreak and had a few ideas but decided that desecration was the better part of valor. Then I saw the concern in Twink’s eyes and felt time slip away. The pain was gone for a moment, and I felt like a rabbit at the wrong end of the tunnel when the hounds start to dig. Why did she waste her time with a joe like me? I had no answer for that one.

The mood was broken when Daybreak crowded that magnificent carriage into my view. That woman had a body like a ton of bricks on a handcart to hell. I picked my breath up off the floor. Twink turned away and started to straighten up some papers on the table. I thought her hands trembled, but it was probably my imagination.

I asked for some cyberprofin and a mineral water. Then I lit a coffin nail and let the smoke surround me with the addictive glow I had come to love. As I started to get my bearings I noticed GypsyQueen was still there. That woman made my skin crawl. I would rather scrape barnacles on a slow boat to China than be in a room with her.

“What’s she doing here?” I asked as my head throbbed like a teenage heart in love.

“Calm down, Moonlight,” Daybreak said, “she saved your life.”

“Huh?”

“Listen, you were about ready to go down for the third time for the count of ten when she came flying out of nowhere. She worked that hoodlum over like there was no tomorrow, which he probably wishes there wasn’t at the moment.”

“Gypsy did that?”

“Sure Albie. I’d help you out anytime, sweetie.” she said as she put on her stole and swished her way out of the Tahiti. “There’s more here than meets the eye, hon. Ta-ta.”

I had to admit that GypsyQueen was not a bad looking woman. Especially from behind she could make a man sit up and point. But I knew what went on in that mind, and it scared me like a bad Halloween costume. And now I owed her my life.

I laid back down. I didn’t want to think about it . The room grew dark, and I started to drift like a divorced man dodging the next alimony payment.

I heard Twink say, “Oh Al!”

Everything went black.

*****

When I came around again it was late. The Tahiti had cleared out except for a few teens playing cyber-sex charades and Kration watching a replay of the Lakers’s game. I looked at the clock, it said 8:30. That meant nothing. The clock always said 8:30. It was just another one of those things about this place.

I sat up. Outside of the fact my throat felt like I had the mother of all cases of strep, I didn’t feel that bad considering I had been attacked twice that day. I limped over to the table and picked up my pack of coffin nails, lit one, and deeply inhaled the noxious fumes.

Daybreak was gone. Twink was still there, asleep in a chair. There was a tiny bit of saliva on the right corner of her mouth. I wiped it off and covered her with my jacket. She snuggled against it, smiled, and continued her journey on the slumberland express.

I went behind the bar and got out a mineral water, popped the cap, leaned against the bar, and sipped my drink slowly. I needed to plan my next move carefully. Many more of those beatings and I would have had about as much chance of surviving as a turkey in November. I felt my head. There were enough new lumps to keep a numerologist busy until next Tuesday.

I went over and sat with Kration but didn’t pay attention to the game. My mind was racing like a good case of Montezuma’s revenge. What was it that the Bates Boyz were doing? Why were they so concerned about me prying around with my nose in the corner. Why was Bob so spooked over this case? Where did Gypsy fit into the picture? What enticing outfit would Daybreak wear next time? I had more questions than my father when I brought home my report card.

I stood up and walked to the window. GenChat looked about as deserted this time of day as the volunteer list for cleaning the head. Suddenly, I noticed WeazelBoy scurrying along the streets. He furtively glanced back every few feet. I decided it was time for us to finish our conversation.

As I stepped out the door a red sedan screamed around the corner. Weaz froze and looked like he could use a new pair of pants. I dove behind a conveniently parked vehicle as a machine gun sprayed the sidewalk like my Aunt Millie watered her peonies. Weazelboy collapsed, and the car sped off.

I ran to his side. Weaz was a goner. There was about as much chance of saving him as there was for a prom queen to get her virginity back. I knelt down, and he grabbed the front of my shirt with his bloody hands. Damn, I thought, and I only had two good ones as it was.

“M-m-m-moonlight, I’m a goner” he groaned.

I held back any comments about him stating the obvious and listened. His voice skipped like a broken record, but I was able to follow what he said.

“L-l-l-isten. Your case is big. B-b-b-bates is up to somethi-i-i-ng. H-h-e w-w-ants out...”

“Out, Weaz, I don’t understand.”

“N-n-n-o time. Hid-d-d-deout-t-t in SocialChat. F-f-f-find him-m-m-m. M-m-must be stopped...before...before...h-h-h-he j...”

WeazelBoy never got to finish his sentence. He had bought a ticket on the trolley to the big chatroom in the sky. I sighed. I kind of liked the kid. He was slime, a snitch, would have sold his mother for a bottle of cheap scotch, but still he had a heart of gold. And he was my main source for what was up on the streets.

I thought about calling the cops but didn’t want to deal with Bob. They would find out soon enough. Instead I went in and fished a few cyber-bills out of Twink’s purse. It was time to pay a visit to the SocialChat.
Chap. 7

I got on the trolley and slumped into my seat. I felt as tired as a marine’s dogs after a twenty mile hike. I sighed and tried to relax but the person next to me glared when I rested my head on his shoulder.

I sat back and closed my eyes. Daybreak’s face appeared. I could see that long dark hair drop across the hazel eyes that held such a special glare for me. Then there was those lips, as luscious as a pint of strawberries on sale at the supermarket. The smacker she’d laid on my puss occupied my thoughts. Her tongue had more moves than ten Pentecostals consumed by the spirit.

Slowly, I forced my mind to return to the case. Daybreak was right, I did get confused about which head to think with. Still, when I thought about how those curves filled that miniskirt I sat up and took notice like a choirboy on Sunday.

The trolley pulled out and headed for SocialChat. It entered the long dark tunnel and hit the link that connected the different sections of ChatWorld. Like I said earlier, I didn’t relish the thought of leaving GenChat. It was home, the place where I hung my hat and tacked up my shingle. At least SocialChat wasn’t as bad as LoveChat. In fact, on most days it seemed to draw a higher class of clientele than the rest of ChatWorld. All I could hope is that it was one of those days.

When I got off the trolley, I decided to mosey down the street to ReligSec, one of the subsections. It was unlikely that the Bates Boyz where there, but I knew someone in ReligSec who kept his ear to the ground and his nose in the air. It was a strange posture, but if anyone had heard about the Bates Boyz it would be him.

I stopped in front of The Cathedral, the room where my contact hung out. I stubbed out my coffin nail. In this place they crucified people for less than smoking inside. I opened the door and was engulfed by the sounds wafting out like the smell of a good pizza:

· Yanamamo says, "Zeus: If Zeus is your god, he is a very SMALL god."

· Zeusisgod says, "Zeus is soooo real. It is like denying the very air which you breathe."

· Yanamamo says, "Heaven: Thank you and praise Jesus."

· Pressin-on says, "I hav jus come ta Praise HIS name!!!!!!! Forevermore n Evermore!!!!!!!!!"

· Zeusisgod says, "He makes the lightning and the very electricity we use. It is by his power that we do anything"

· Morian says, "Let us not sound like the Ephisians who were screaming for two hours "Great is Diana of the Ephesians""

· Christianburner says, "Rule #2: self referencing the bible to prove itself correct will be discredited (ex: bible says god cannot lie, so god is real. etc.)"

· Zeusisgod says, "Why does the Christian concept God kill so many humans to the delight of his followers?"

· Madona001 says, "All Glory ta HIM!!!!!! Jude 1: 24,25 Amen!!!!!!!!"

I could see the Christians and the pagans were at it again. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them, I thought. I pondered about throwing them some red meat but figured they wouldn’t get the joke. I sat down, ordered a mineral water, and looked around for my contact.

After a while I noticed a familiar wizened shape with a staff walk in my direction. He wore his usual sackcloth robe and tonsure. He needed a shave and as he got close I perceived he also could use a new mouthwash. He was my contact, FryrTuck.

“How’s it going, Tuck?” I asked as I offered him a seat.

“Strange forebodings and omens, my friend, Moon.” he said as he seated his rather robust frame. “Lights appear as flames in the eastern sky, rivers flow the color of blood, French poodles lay down with German shepherds...”

I turned him off like a light switch. He would ramble on like this for a few minutes, oblivious to the world around him. Tuck was an odd character but an okay joe in my book. And he had the scoop on every piece of dirt that went down in SocialChat. Besides, I wasn’t going anywhere.

After awhile he remembered I was at the table. He laid his staff down and ordered a tankard of grog. The waiter brought him some egg nog in paper cup, but Tuck didn’t seem to notice the difference. That was one of the things I had observed about chatters. They usually only saw what they wanted to see. He downed his drink in one gulp, wiped his hand on his sleeve, belched, and smiled at me.

“So, my friend Moon, I have not seen you for awhile. What brings you at our humble corner of the ChatWorld? Could it be that you are finally ready to convert?”

“About as much chance of that,” I answered, “as me being able to pay my bills next month.”

He sighed and said, “Then I gather you are here for information. What do you need to know?”

“Doing some nosing around, Tuck. I heard the scuttlebutt that the Bates Boyz were seen in these whereabouts. You know anything?”

I tried to slip a cyber-sawbuck into his hand, but he waved it away. He never wanted money for his services, said it was his contribution to the betterment of the community. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I never look a gift horse in the backside. I ordered him another drink and waited for him to speak.

“Well...I have heard about some strange comings and goings over in Under30...”

I felt my spine crawl up the back of my body. I would rather walk naked into the MeetMarket before I’d go to Under30. The idea of listening to that group with their pentiums and kisk-ass modems snivel about being poor was more than I cared to hear.

Tuck continued, “Seems there’s been a lot of equipment shipped into a private room there. The shipments come in the middle of night. The vans are unmarked, the crates are covered. There are guards at the door, but no one wants to say what they look like.”

He downed his drink in one gulp, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and motioned for another. I could swear he thought he was getting drunk. I ordered his refill.

“And a couple of nights ago,” he belched into my face, “they carried in a large bag. The bag seemed to be moving, like there was a body inside. A little later there was scream and a couple of shots. All has been quiet since then. No more deliveries, and the door is locked, but the room is still rented.”

“Any sign of the Bates Boyz there?”

“Can’t say for sure, Moon, but where there’s a turkey I smell rat gas, I always say.”

He gulped down his drink and asked for another. I would have complied, but the waiter signaled they were cutting him off. I noticed he was teetering on his chair and was sweating buckets. The table started to feel a little damp and sticky.

“Any name on the room?” I asked as I paid our tab and left a modest tip.

“No, my friend Moon. Only a tiny picture of a flag,” he answered with a knowing look. He handed me an address before he passed out in his chair.

I pocketed my change and walked to the door. It was a good thing he didn’t want to be paid for the info. I only had enough cash left for the trolley ride back to GenChat. I need a new line of work, I thought, as I walked out of the Cathedral.

A cab was out of the question on my budget. I lit up a coffin nail, turned left, and started down the street. With any luck I would be at Under30 in ten minutes.
Chap. 8

It was still early when I got to Under30. SocialChat was usually a rather pleasant place to visit, except for this vermin infested corner. Not only did they snivel and whine, but you had to hold one hand on your wallet, one on your watch, and walk with your legs crossed to be safe in this hole. These chatters had the morals of a Machavellian drill instructor.

I arrived at the address Tuck gave me. The place was boarded up tighter than a knight’s wench in a chastity belt. From next door the sounds of Slasher’s Palace hit me like a bag of fresh rat droppings:

· Nataliak24 says, "no,kinda boring"

· Q-rock enters snivels “chill dudettes yer god is here!”

· Cyberjetpam leaves.

· Slagger says, "where did all these people come from? and why don’t they leave?"

· Heyuneverknow tells you, "r u a female in the 20's?"

· Chrisy123 says, "Who Knows?"

· Alpha-and-omega says, "lets play a game"

· Alpha-and-omega says, "who can tell the most outrageous lie"

· Sknowbored says, "One time I made a hat out of a lobster and a stick!"

· Stares_at_legs says, "I'm 3 years old!"

· X123465 says, "I can watch this you're someone special"

· Alpha-and-omega says, "i like 3 year olds"

· Slagger says, "but do 90 year olds like to have sex w/ you?"

· Stares_at_legs says, "Leave leave."

One could never go too far underestimating the intellectual capabilities of this bunch. It was disgusting but provided convenient cover for my movements.

I nosed around but found the windows where boarded shut. There seemed no way to enter except for knocking on the door, and, given the reception the Bates Boyz had awarded me before, that was no option. Most people would have been stymied. But I’m not most people, I’m Al_B._Moonlight.

I looked away from the wall and let my mind drift, move out through SocialChat until I found what I wanted. Then I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. When I opened them a door was on the wall. I leaned against the wall and rasped heavily, sweating like a race horse in heat. Cyber-transport took a lot out of me. I didn’t like to use it very often, but I had no other choice.

I tried the knob, but the door wouldn’t open. Just my luck to choose a locked one. I sighed, got my pick out of my wallet, and proceeded to jimmie the lock.

The door creaked open. Luckily, the sound was covered by the affectionate sound of heads banging against the wall in Slasher’s. I was greeted by a smell not unlike a set of gym clothes left unwashed in the locker all semester. Not only was this gang a bunch of vile hoodlums with poor personal hygiene and bad grammar, they also lived like bears. I closed the door behind me as I crept inside.

The place was as dark as my mood when my rent was due. I caught drift of a “ching ching” from behind the door ahead of me. I tiptoed to the door and bent down to peer through the keyhole. What I saw made me catch my breath like a good whack in the rancheros.

The room was filled with people chained to various machinery. I surmised from their expressions that this was not voluntary labor. Nearby, was a disheveled man chained to a computer. He crunching figures like a punch drunk fighter pawing his way through a barroom brawl. It didn’t take chump change to figure out that he was Daybreak’s friend, Ezyriter8.

Then I saw someone who made my blood run colder than the backside of Mercury. It was Gil Bates, the head honcho himself. It was rare to see him so close to the action. He usually kept his hands clean and let his goons do the dirty work. It had to be big, really big for him to be there.

Bates was dressed in his usual denim shirt and pants. The mild expression behind the horn rimmed glasses and the soft hands contrasted with the fact there stood one of the most vile creatures in ChatWorld. Next to him his thugs looked like a bunch of boy scouts. I still carried the psychic scars from our last encounter.

Suddenly, one of the workers let out a moan and collapsed at his machine. Rejectedisk tried to revive him with a few love taps with a large club. When that failed, he shrugged, unshackled the poor fellow, and threw him over his shoulder like a load of wet laundry. The goon started to lumber toward the door where I stood.

I ducked in the corner, held my breath, and tried to be as quiet as a church mouse on Demerol. The lug opened the door and walked into the room. He carried the worker over to another door, unlocked it, and threw him in. As he closed the door I stifled a sneeze. Rejectedisk looked in my direction but luckily the shadows hid me like a few cyber-samolias in the right place can cover a bad credit rating.

After he left, I crept over to the other door. I picked the lock and looked inside. Sprawled around the room were the pathetic figures of Bates’s work force. I knelt down by one of them and awakened him with a few gentle slaps to the face.

“What’s going on in here?” I whispered.

“S-s-saw ad for a new chatroom. L-l-looked fun so went in. Jumped and brought here...”

“Do know what you’re building?”

“Not for sure. I’m a short order cook, not a rocket scientist,” he said as he started to come back around.

I let him have a few sips of mineral water from the flask in my pocket as he continued, “B-b-but one of the guys is and thinks it’s starting to resemble a large modem.”

“So are you all chatters?”

“Mostly, b-but there are a few flakes. They seem to pull us in from wherever they can find us. Use us like hamburger, then throw us away. Are you here to rescue us?”

“Can’t do that yet, pilgrim. We gotta think about those in the other room.”

He started to sob uncontrollably. It took a few friendly swats from the back of my hand to bring him back around. My heart went out to the poor guy, but this picture was starting to look bigger than the both of us.

“Look, just buck up, suck it in, hold your chin up, let a smile be your umbrella. I have to leave now, but I’ll be back. And when I do I’ll have some friends and a little persuasion with me. Hold it together, ok?”

He nodded and took one last swig of mineral water. He let out a consumptive cough and fell back to the floor. I made a mental note to boil my flask when I got back to the Tahiti.

I relocked the door and quietly slipped out of the chatroom. Once outside, I made sure to return the door. His goons may not notice an extra door, but, sure as five will get you a little more than four, Bates would. He was one sharp cookie, maybe a little too quick for the likes of me. Besides, the owner of the door probably needed it back.

On the trolley back to GenChat I thought about what I had just seen. The sight revolted and disgusted me like the memories of that evening with GypsyQueen. I also pondered what that poor pathetic man had told me. A giant modem, why? I didn’t want to ponder that question because I already knew the answer. If I was right...

When I got off the trolley I leaned against a lamp post and lit up a coffin nail. The delicious smoke curled and caressed in my lungs. I felt my shakes start to subside. It was starting to rain lightly so I pulled down my fedora and raised the collar on my trenchcoat. I stared off into space, lost in my thoughts like a vacationer with the wrong road map.

Suddenly, I felt the playful jab of a nightstick in my right kidney. I stumbled a little, sighed, and stubbed out my coffin nail on the lamp post. I pulled out another and lit it while I waited for that familiar voice to accost me like a rabid sixteen year old with over active hormones.

“Okay, Moonlight, you were warned! Let’s go back to my office for a little more persuasive chat.”

“Sure Bob, you’re the long arm of the law.”
Chap. 9

The heat of the lamp in Bob’s office cooked me like an Easter ham at Passover. He had set a bottle of mineral water just out of my reach. Every time I moved to get it he swatted my right shoulder with a rolled up newspaper. Each tap was light but after awhile they started to build up. I gave up on the water, but he started to do it when he didn’t like the answer to his question, which was often. I began to ache in a new place.

“Ok, Moonlight,” he growled as he prowled like a tomcat on the make, “let’s take it from the top again. Now we had a chat about this earlier, didn’t we?”

“Yes Bob.”

“And what did I tell you?”

“To keep my nose out of it.”

“And could you do that? No way! You had to go snooping around like a dog sniffing a crotch. I’ve had it up to here with you, Moonlight! What are you, some kind of libertarian? You seem to think there are two sets of rules, one for you and one for the rest of the world! I oughta bust your chops, you piece of cat spittle.”

Instead, he went to the window and stared out for a few seconds. He turned around, wiped his pudgy forehead with his beefy hand, and cleaned it on his barrel chest. He sighed and came back to me, smacking the paper in a palm the size of New Jersey.

“So let’s try this again. Who’s your client?”

“Client...” I winced as the paper connected with my shoulder.

I had to hand it to Bob, he was a master at this. I remembered in the old days, if those were my memories, how he could pry the dope out of a suspect like lifting the top off a rusty can with a crowbar. I would have screamed, but who would have heard me over the din of other such interrogations going on in the precinct or even cared if they did?

“And why did you just make that little trip to Under30? Don’t act surprised, Moonlight. You know I got more ears around ChatWorld than you have hairs in your nose. What I don’t know is what you were doing there.

“You’re going to tell me, Moonlight. It can be the easy way or the fun way. As far as I’m concerned I’d prefer the second option. I’m not going anywhere and haven’t got to have as much fun since they decided the Miranda Act applied in ChatWorld. Lucky for me you’re a flake, and they still haven’t determined if it includes you!”

He whacked me again on the way past my chair. Stars exploded behind my eyes, and my shoulder felt like a cement block after a long fall. I had a pretty good threshold for pain, but this was getting to be too much. If he hit me a few more times I was going to sing like a tenor doing the national anthem at a ballgame.

“Well, Moonlight, you gutter fodder, what’s it going to be?” he asked. “I could keep this up all day. What about you?”

I wasn’t quite sure which Bob was talking to me at that point. I saw three of them, and they were all blurry. I tried to swallow but it got caught on the lump in my throat. I would have passed out but was worried about what measures Bob would have used to revive me. I was definitely caught between the rock and the sticky wicket.

I was ready to spill the beans, drop the ball, and throw the baby out with the bathwater when there was a knock on the door. A nondescript man entered, the type you see as an extra in a Grade B detective movie, and handed Bob a note. He read it, swore under his breath, crumpled it up, and turned to me.

“Ok, Moonlight,” he growled, “I’ve been ordered to call off the dogs and work with you on this one. I’ll tell you what I know, you tell me what you know. Then we piece it together and work on it.”

“What’s in it for me? You know I’m used to be being paid for my services.”

Bob shrugged and replied, “I guess I’ll have to let you live. Sounds like a good deal to me.”

I couldn’t argue with him on that. I nodded my head yes. Bob handed me the bottle of mineral water, sighed, and pulled up a chair next to me. He threw down the newspaper and turned off the light. My head started to clear as the water hit the back of my throat like a cyber-bill greasing the palm of some lonely hooker on a Tuesday night.

“Ok, Al,” he said as he settled into his chair, “here’s the scoop. Our problem, as you know, is Bates. The man has gotten big, really big. He’s swallowed up over 90% of the illicit take in ChatWorld. No one seems able to stop him. Anyone who tries is turned to gerble chowder.

“Now the word in the rooms is that he’s onto something else. Seems he’s bored with ChatWorld and wants more. He’s started branching out into other chat lines, swallowing them up like a smug canary. But that’s not enough for the likes of him. Too easy. He wants a challenge. And that means the outside...”

“You mean Gil Bates is a flake?”

“You hit the nail on the head with the salami, Al.”

I was stunned. Bates a flake...I could hardly fathom the idea. Flakes had done well in here and some had obtained notoriety on the outside, but if what Bob said was true then Bates was in a league in a ballpark of his own. He was born in proverbial log cabin that he built himself.

Suddenly, everything hit me like a load of wet dirt in the face. That was what Weaz had tried to tell me. That was why they nabbed Ezyriter8. That was why they had that hidden lair of industrial hell and mayhem. And that was why they tried so hard to keep me out of the picture. Bates was going to jump the modem.

But it had to be more than just a jump. Any two bit anty flake could do that by following a chatter through an exit. (I tried it once and didn’t like it. Give me the secure shifting walls of cyber-space anyday.) No, he was up to something. He had something he wanted to take with him.

I took a long swig off my mineral water, looked long and hard at Bob, cleared my throat, and said, “Ok, Bob, it’s time we buried the hatchet with the concrete galoshes. We gotta have a chat...”

“Sure, Moonlight, but first you need to meet your partner for this assignment, though I’m sure you know each other quite well.”

“Partner?”

The door opened and in walked the last person I expected to see at that moment. I picked my jaw up off my rancheros and tried to crawl further back up in my seat.

“Oh, Albie, honey, so good to see you! *kiss, kiss*“

“Moonlight, this is ChatWorld Bureau of Investigation Special Agent GypsyQueen...”

“What?”

“Who in reality is Special Agent CharlesJ34.”

“WHATTTTTT!!!!!?????!!????”
Chap. 10

I left the GenChat Precinct after the meeting and walked slowly toward the Tahiti. I tried to light a coffin nail but my hands were shaking like Monday morning after a good Friday night bender. If the image of GypsyQueen disgusted me before, it revolted me now.

Still, I had to give credit where credit was due. (S)he knew the ropes and the long and short of it. During the briefing Gypsy was in control of the situation making Bob take the backseat like a mother-in-law on a Sunday drive. I had much to ponder and needed to check with Twink to see if Daybreak had left a message. It was also time for my morning set.

I noticed two punks coming toward me. I knew what was up so I waited for them to glide by on their cyber-blades. The first stumbled in front of me. While I looked at him the second tried to grab my watch.

I was ready for them. I had seen this dog and pony show a hundred times. I kneed the first one in the face while I grabbed the second and by the wrist and swung him into a light pole. I frisked them and found a new lighter and a few cyber-bills. I stuffed the cash in my pocket and told them to have a nice day. Like I said, I knew what they were up to: you have to get up pretty early in the morning to not find Al_B._Moonlight in bed.

The workout seemed to have relaxed me, eased some of my angst. I lit a coffin nail and felt the deadening effect of the noxious smoke almost immediately. This makes life worth living, I thought. I checked my watch. It said 8:30. I’d have to hurry toget to the Tahiti in time for my set.

I stubbed out my coffin nail and opened the door to the lounge. The sounds from inside assaulted my senses like standing in front of a speaker at a heavy metal concert:

· Candrew says, "Alma should shop with my wife, they could do some serious damage"

· Nyle3 says, "Gotta go play lottery so I can win..so I can hire maid to do house work!!!"

· KountDrac wonders if nitewind will be on tonight

· Antzy . o O ( tight jeans....curves....whiplash....death.......eyeballs......crawling.....

· SnoozieQ wonders if it is too early to order a Singapore Sling :))

· Carpface asks jetstreem to mop him up off the floor

· Tylor_toby enters.

· Tylor_ toby leaves.

· Tylor_ toby enters.

· Candrew cries because his wife was at an outlet mall yesterday.... chaching!!!chaching!!!!chaching!!!!!

· KountDrac flutters around looking for a tasty neck

· Jetstreem says, "; looks at KRation and waits for her hug....while tapping her foot"

· Bummer10 . o O ( if a chatter is alone in a room & falls down does it make a sound? )

· Mz._Snappy swims naked in the pool - watch out for the eels

· Chewie hands jetstreem a spare colon

It was the usual early morning crowd at the Tahiti, a few sots and other chatters on the make mixed with the caffeine for brunch crowd. I picked up my clean shirt from behind the bar and went to the restroom to change.

When I came out Twink had a steaming cup of joe ready for me. I gratefully accepted it and proceeded to sip down the acrid brew that nearly matched coffin nails as my drug of choice.

“Any mail Twink?” I asked as my hand slipped and I poured coffee on my only clean shirt.

“Oh, Al!” Twink exclaimed as she handed me my mail and ran to the restroom for a wet cloth.

I checked the stack: bill...bill...Cyber Publishers Clearing House...bill...collection agency notice...bill...bill... I sighed and threw the whole lot on top of the piano. Twink would sort it out later.

I got out the tip jar and sat down at the piano. I was tired but had played in a lot worse shape. I started the set with “Buy Me a Mercury”. Twink came back and leaned across the piano while sorting my mail. With every bill she “tsked” and shook her head which made the front of her dress jiggle slightly in a not unpleasant manner.

“So how did it go Al?” she asked as she leaned across me to wipe the front of my shirt.

Her hands were as soft as a marshmallow and her perfume made it uncomfortable for me to keep my legs under the bench. As she tilted forward I caught a taste of the aroma of her hair, which was more pleasing than even the steak and eggs breakfast at Rick’s. I sat paralyzed for a second, then shook my head to clear the cobwebs.

“Not too bad Twink. At least I didn’t get throttled by anyone this time. This case is coming together like a slice of ham and two pieces of bread, but...”

“Oh Al, but what?”

“It’s bigger than we thought Twink. It’s more than just a kidnapping. I think you should clear out for a few days and keep that adorable little nose on the outside.”

“Oh Al,” she pouted, knowing what a sucker I was for that routine, “who’s going to take care of you if I’m not here?”

“I’ve a partner on this case now Twink. I’ll be ok.”

“Do you mean Bob and you have finally made up?” she asked and beamed like a sunlamp on a hot afternoon.

“Not really. He still thinks I’m the son of the mother of all scum. But this is so big we have to cooperate. Besides he’s not my partner. My partner is GypsyQueen”

“That’s nice,” she said with enough ice in her voice to make a slushy.

I was going to tell her that there was no reason to worry since I found Gypsy as about as attractive as choosing my own form of execution. But I decided why bother? What did it matter? Twink wasn’t interested in me. I was just another flake trodding the streets of this cyber-hole. She had a real life on the outside.

“So any word from Daybreak?” I asked trying to change the subject like three quarters for a one.

“No message, Al” she said with about as much frost in her voice as you’d find on a Halloween pumpkin, “but she’s standing over there.”

I turned and saw Daybreak across the room talking to some Neanderthal in a 49er letter jacket. My eyes were riveted to her like a bolt to a girder. She was wearing a red tee-shirt and a black leather coat. She looked at me with those eyes where a man would just want to go to die, or least have confession. I was buried in those orbs like a fly in a pot of honey.

As she swayed her way across the room on those trademark stiletto heels, I broke into “Daydream Believer”, matching the tempo to the movement of her hips. I noticed she wore tight jeans. They were so tight you’d get whiplash just looking at the curves. If I died right now, I thought, then I wouldn’t be alive anymore.

Daybreak brought a chair over by the piano, turned it around, and straddled it like a cowboy on the backside on a hot young bronco. I pulled my breath out of my hip pocket and pretended that the notes I misplayed where intentional. This woman was about as hot as the back forty in Hades.

“Well, Moonlight,” she said as she flipped her long hair out of her face, revealing the lips that empires could go to war over, “how goes the case?”

“I know where your friend is, Daybreak. The Bates Boyz do have him.”

“Then when can you get him out?”

“It’s not that simple, sweetheart. This has gotten big, bigger than a Texan’s ego. I have a lot to fill you in on...but this place is little too public.”

“Fine, then we’ll go to my country estate. When is your set over?”

“Anytime I need it to be. Alma may not like it, but no one else will take the job for what she pays.”

“Good, I’ll go get my car. When we’re done talking, who knows, maybe we’ll mind some time for other things...”

She laid a kiss on me that knocked my blood pressure up a couple of notches. I wasn’t quite sure how she got her tongue to move like that, but, hey, who was I to question fate? I watched her sway toward the door, my hormonal levels cranking up with each step.

“I don’t know about you, Moonlight,” she lobbed like a grenade over my shoulder. “You’re a scuz, a rat, but I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

I was floating like a dentist on ether. I felt so good that I almost didn’t notice someone sit down beside me on the piano bench.

“Oh, Albie, you wouldn’t be thinking of going anywhere without your little ol’ partner would you?” GypsyQueen asked as she finished the song for me.

I let out a sigh that sounded like a punctured balloon. Over my shoulder I thought I heard Twink stifle a whimper, but I knew it had to be my imagination.
Chap. 11

Cruising down the fast lanes of the cyber-freeways was always one of my favorite things to do. Daybreak had a red ‘61 Vette with silver panels. The top was down, and the wind hit my face like a refreshing slap of Aqua Velva.

At first, I could read the signs on the private rooms: Looking for (.) (.); The_Crypt_and_the_Hose; Daniel’s_Lair; and so on, but as the car picked up speed they started to blend together like a montage in a cheap French art film.

I looked over at Daybreak. Her teeth were biting that luscious lower lip, and the wind whipped her long dark hair back across the seat. Those dewy hazel eyes were glued to the road. Her hand rested on the knob, the red nails digging into it when the car shifted gears. I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. The Vette was an automatic.

It was what I’d usually call a perfect day: a great car, a beautiful dame, a nice ride. However, there was a fly in the ointment clogging up the works, and the voice that hit my ears like a cheese grater brought me back to that harsh reality.

“Oh Albie, isn’t this just grand?” GypsyQueen hooted from the backseat.

Ah, yes, Gypsy, or ChuckieThing as I now called her under my breath, insisted on coming along. She said that Daybreak needed protection, and, given my recent track record, I probably wasn’t the one to do it. So there we were. I sighed and took a nip off my flask of mineral water.

I cringed in my seat when Daybreak’s fingers dug into the knob as the car downshifted. We flew into the drive of her cyber-estate. I was so impressed that I caught my breath and held it in a paper bag. Usually someone’s digs didn’t do much for me either way. But this place was as stunning as it’s owner.

I got out of the car and had started to walk toward the door when I heard a cough behind me. I turned to see that Daybreak was waiting for me to open her car door. I sighed and complied. We started for the room when I heard another cough. I turned to see Gypsy still in the back seat, giving me a coy smile. I gagged on what I wanted to say, sighed, and opened the car door.

“Albie,” Gypsy beamed in my direction, “you are such the gentleman!”

I dropped my hat when we went inside. You could have knocked my breath off a sawhorse with a gunnysack. I wasn’t much for taste, had very little myself, but this palace made me forget that wiggle Daybreak had when she scooted each step. This doll obviously had the cyber-samolias to spare.

As I picked up my hat, Gypsy and Daybreak strolled ahead of me up the stairs. I had to admit that the view of those two mini-skirts was comparable, but I knew what was under one and had a good idea what was under the other. I shuddered as my mind raced back to that fated night like a groom ahead of the shotgun. How high had I been that I hadn’t noticed that?

We entered a large room with a table, a couch, and several chairs. On the table was a silver serving tray with some sandwiches and a steaming pot of joe. I poured myself a cup and turned to see that Gypsy had laid on her stomach on the couch, her right leg bent up at the knee. He/she/it/whatever gave me a friendly come hither grin. My hand shook slightly as I sat in a chair at the opposite end of the room.

Daybreak sat on the arm of my chair and gave a Gypsy a look that meant the equivalent of a brand on a side of beef. Her fingers absent mindedly played through my hair, and her perfume assaulted my nose like the marines up Iwo Jima. I quickly forgot about the claw marks from the drive.

“Ok,” Daybreak said as she sidled over to the table for a sandwich, “one of you better tell me what’s going on.”

Before I could speak Gypsy butted in like a ram in rut, “Well, honey, it goes like this. Your friend just wasn’t kidnapped. There was a method to the madness. Have you ever heard of the Bates Boyz?”

“Who, praytell, in cyber-space hasn’t, dear?” Daybreak responded with a voice like a bucket of ice.

Just my luck, I thought, two women finally fighting over me, and one of them is a man.

“Well, luv,” Gypsy continued, choosing to ignore Daybreak’s challenge, “they are up to something. Albie and I figure that Bates wants out of the cyber-verse. He’s bored here and needs a new challenge to play with like a kitten needs a new catnip mouse and a pound of cheese.”

“You mean the outside?” Daybreak gasped, holding her hands close to her lovely arguments.

“You got it, sugar. Now Albie told me your friend was a computer programmer or something like that. He saw your friend chained to a desk in a private room doing some work for Bates...”

“Moonlight, you saw him and didn’t rescue him?!?”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” I said as I lit up a coffin nail and dodged a lamp, “but John Wayne couldn’t have gotten him out of there, and I can take only so many beatings in a twenty-four hour period.”

“And you didn’t go to the police for help?!?”

“The police got to me before I got to them. Besides, it would do no good to go back now. There’s a mole, a rat, a pigeon, a stoolie working for Bates in the precinct. They’ve probably cleared out faster than someone moving out to elude the landlord.”

“So what do we do?”

“Put our nose to the grindstone and our ear to the ground,” I answered between puffs. “And I’ll go check out my contacts for any fresh info.”

“Meanwhile, I’ll check my sources which are a little different that Albie’s,” Gypsy added. I couldn’t argue with that statement.

“And what should I do?” Daybreak asked as a single tear trickled down her lovely cheek.

“It’s too dangerous for you, doll,” I puffed. “Chuckie-uh-Gypsy and I will keep you abreast...”

I winced at my choice of words but continued, “you probably should lay low here. I don’t know if Bates is that aware of you, but if he is he wouldn’t think twice about using you as cannon fodder.”

“So when do you start?”

“Well, I’d like to rest a little while first. This has not been one of my better days.”

“Then we’ll just have to take care of that won’t we?” she said with an evil grin.

Daybreak planted her lips on mine and laid another smacker on me. I could not figure out how she made her tongue move that way. She grabbed me by the lapels and drug me into another room.

“I just don’t understand this, Moonlight,” she said while starting to unbutton my shirt. “You are worthless slime, you infuriate me, call me names I detest, need a bath and a shave, but I cannot leave my hands off of you.”

“It must be fate, sweetheart,” I answered with quickening breath.

We heard a polite cough behind us and voice asking, “Excuse me, lovers, but where can I find a deck of cards for some solitaire?”

Daybreak pointed to a drawer, slammed the door shut, and yelled “/Room secure on!”

My day seemed to be taking a turn for the better.
Chap. 12

I was awakened a few hours later by the sun caressing my face with all the subtlety of a baseball bat with a nail in it. I slipped out from under Daybreak’s leg and planted my feet on the floor.

I gingerly reached for my pants and discovered just how sore I was. That woman had the agility of a Romanian gymnast, the strength of a Russian weightlifter on steroids, and appetite of an Irishman for another pint. If she ever decided to turn her talents to evil she could make Rejectedisk and his ilk look like small potatoes.

Once dressed I lit up a coffin nail and moved to the window. As I inhaled the delightfully addictive smoke I was transfixed and stunned by the scenery. She had placed this side of the estate in the Himalayas. The sun burning like fire off the snow on the peaks contrasted nicely with the cool blue gray of the distant peaks.

Finally, I tore myself away and went in the other room to look for a mineral water. Gypsy laid sprawled across the couch, cards scattered where she had dropped them when she fell asleep. I tiptoed by her and found a small refrigerator against the wall. I pulled out a bottle, unscrewed the cap, and greedily poured the ice cold liquid down my gullet.

I walked to a window and stared out again trying to collect my thoughts. The last twenty-four hours had taken many turns I didn’t expect, and there was probably more to come. I was like the guy who arrived at the game during the third inning and couldn’t find the program: the faces looked familiar, but I couldn’t match the numbers to the names.

The scene this time was a Mexican beach. I had to hand it to Daybreak, the woman had more class than a room full of Phi Beta Kappas. As I stared across the white sands into the blue green waters I remember another beach. There was me, two women, an older married couple, a well educated man, the Skipper...damn, another flake memory. I sighed and sat down in a chair.

I needed some dope on the scene and fast. The trouble was with the loss of Weaz my main source had gone down the drain like a bad soap film. Tuck knew a lot but only about SocialChat. Then an idea hit me in the face like a wet mackerel.

I would have to go back to the Tahiti to get my laptop and PDA. That would mean dealing with Alma who was a little disturbed over me missing a set here and there lately. Still, I had no other choice. I had to bite the bullet before I could chew the fat.

I left Daybreak and Gypsy a note telling them I would be in contact later. I crept out the door and started to walk down the drive. Daybreak had no business getting her pretty little nose anymore mixed up in this mess. As for Chuck-ah-Gypsy, I just didn’t want to deal with that right now. Besides, what I had in mind I could do better alone.

I had spied a bus stop a couple of miles back. With any luck I would be long gone before they woke up.

*****

When I opened the door to the Tahiti my ears were assaulted by the sounds of the early afternoon crowd:

· Acutiepye says, "Hello fellow Tahitians. This is Cutiepye, my handle had to get changed today because someone erase my file so now I'm Acutiepye!"

· Jetstreem thinks Tasmaniac needs to watch who he is Pming

· JoanyBGoode says, "want to come up to cockpit"

· FlourPower thinks too many people want control of this bird

· Kration typs real slow

· RedHead says, "very strange some company down in S. America makes imitation Land Criusers...."

· Xchick twist the top off a purple passion

· FlourPower looks around cuz she's positive ChezVu has been bound and gagged by terrorists

· ChezVu grins a maniacal grin...the kind that gets people locked up.

· JoanyBGoode pulls plane around by key, we all have paint ball guns

· Jetstream says, "LOL@ FlourPower "

· Acutiepye looks through window and sees the Skipper and MaryAnn

Nothing out of the ordinary was happening. It was strange that Acutiepye saw the Gilligan set right after my flake memory, though. Sometimes things like that just seemed to happen in here.

I noticed JuJoon and his band the Cyber Scumbuckets were setting up to play. That took me off the hook to do my set. I avoided Alma’s unhappy gaze as I stepped behind the bar to get a mineral water and my laptop.

One of the advantages of doing my line of work in here was that when you went undercover you didn’t need any bothersome makeup or cumbersome disguises. All you had to do was assume a new identity and alter your profile. For chatters it was easy, for flakes a little harder, but I had mastered the art.

I started scrolling through identities, rejecting them faster than a beauty queen turning down dates with class geeks...Antonio_del_Muerte - no...OscarTGroush - no...Herbie_Hunk2 - not today...then I found the one I needed.

BarnacleBull, a sailor of questionable repute with a record longer than my arm. He also had some experience with modern navigational equipment which made him somewhat computer savvy. With a little luck the Bates Boyz might be find him useful. I clicked on his name and then “Open”. I was instantly transformed.

Bull looked good, felt right, but would others go for it? I hadn’t changed identities for awhile. I needed a test. Then like an answer to a prayer to the porcelain god I saw Twink walk in the door. She could read me like a well used index. If I could fool her I could fool anyone. I sauntered over to see her.

“Aye, lassie,” I cackled, “how’s ye be doin’ for an ol’ sea dog tonite?”

Twink stepped back, covered her nose with a hankie, but tried to be her ever polite self.

“Have we been introduced?”

“Nah, lassie, but if it be introduin’ ye be wantin’, then BarnacleBull be the one for ye to meet.”

“That’s...nice...I guess....”

“Aye, if ye be a good lassie, I’ll let ye give polly a cracker...”

Suddenly, I felt Twink’s purse up along side my head. As I crumbled to the floor she hit me in the eyes with some pepper spray. I fell moaning to the floor where I was acquainted with the loving taps of her pointed shoes into my ribs.

“Twink, stop,” I gasped between kicks, “it’s me, Al!”

“Oh Al,” she sighed as she stopped and helped me up off the floor, “just what game are you playing this time?”

She ran to the restroom to get a wet cloth for my eyes. I made a mental note to never carry things that far with her again.

“I’m going undercover, Twink,” I said, dabbing the blood from my lip. “I needed to see if my identity worked. I guess it did.”

“Oh Al, where do you think you’re going?”

“Where do you think I’m going Twink?”

“Not to the Bates Boyz! Oh Al, they’re going to kill you yet!”

“It’s a case, Twink. I need the money.”

“And it’s that Daybreak woman, too, isn’t it Al?”

“If the shoe fits you don’t need a shoehorn Twink.”

Twink sighed, shook her head. She knelt to pick up the mess we made. I glimpsed her pleasing cleavage while she worked. I was captured by the pure beauty of the woman. A guy like me and a dame like her...no, it would never work out. I lit up a coffin nail and thought I heard a tiny cry part her lips, but it was probably just the bass player tuning up.

“Listen Twink,” I said between puffs, “if Gypsy and/or Daybreak stop by tell them I’ve gone undercover. Don’t tell them my identity. This could get hairier than a gorilla’s back. I don’t want anyone else caught up in it.”

“Oh Al, do be careful.”

Twink leaned forward and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. She looked in my eyes for a second, sighed, shook her head, and walked away. My body swayed with the rhythm of her walk and for a second I thought about scrapping the whole case, quitting the dead-end piano job, and running off with her to some cyber-resort. But who was I kidding? Things didn’t happen like that for cyber-joes like me.

I turned and finished my coffin nail as I walked out the door. It was time for me to get to work.
Chap. 13

I left the Tahiti, turned right, and ambled down the street in my best sailor fashion. I decided that BarnacleBull would do but that I had to drop the accent. It gave me a headache after about five minutes, and I remembered in the past I had trouble dropping an accent when I switched back to Al. I had no desire to talk like a parrot for the next few weeks.

My next decision was where to go. I doubted if the Bates Boyz were still in Under30. However, I had a hunch, and I tended to play my hunches like someone drawing to an inside straight when betting their mother’s retirement fund.

Tucked in the far corner of GenChat was perhaps the most vile dive in ChatWorld. The hole made Under30 look like Lincoln Center and the MeetMarket like the Vatican. It collected the lowest and sleaziest elements in the cyber-universe, drawing them like fleas to a dog’s crotch, the Scuzzie_Jumper. It would be the perfect hangout for someone like Rejectedisk and his ilk.

I lit up a coffin nail as I walked and delighted in its numbing effect on my lungs. On the way I noticed a few new private rooms: de_Sade_&_Co., Babes_for_Beantown_Boys, Come_in,_Say_anything,_Even_if_it’s_stupid, Home_For_Hunkettes. None of them looked that appealing.

I arrived at the Scuzzie_Jumper. When I swung open the door, I was greeted by the smell of blood, death, and three day old beef stew. I peered through the smoke and the mayhem. The sounds slammed into my ears like a baseball bat to the stomach:

· Lenni_da_rat says “fer sure, but my dad thinsk yer mom does too”

· axleGrease slams Porky4 against the pool table with an anvil

· Stinkie slips in a pile of puke

· BykerChick sticks a tongue in Lenni’s ear and a knife in his ribs

· John_L_Sulivane says “I can lick any man in the house”

· TwystedPair nudges Rejectedisk and points to the newcomer

· Louie_T_Bartender shouts “who wanted the kamikaze”

· White_Aryan breaks a chair over Sulivane’s head and yells “faggot!”

· chuck_mansen grins evilly

· The Partitions scream in on their bikes

· Lenni_da_rat is hot for BykerChick but bleeds o nthe floor

I had noticed Rejectedisk eyeing me when I came in. The one standing with him made my blood run colder than an ice cube on the rancheros. When Bates needed muscle, pure muscle with no thoughts cluttering up the process, he turned to Rejectedisk, but when he needed a mind as sharp as tart’s tongue he turned to TwystedPair.

I shuddered in side at the sight of him. When the Bates Boyz captured me it had been TwystedPair who had questioned me. I still had scars from the well placed electrodes. The man made chuck_mansen look like Father Flannigan. I prayed he wouldn’t see through my disguise.

There was no other choice. If I was going to get to the bottom of this case, I’d have to crawl in the pot and stand up to my ascot in the hot soup. Those two were my only ticket through the turnstile to the inside of this conspiracy. I would have to bite the bullet and gird my loins.

As I sauntered up to the bar they turned their back to me and started playing another round of “Pin the Bartender to the Bar with Your Knife.”

I ordered a beer. While no one was looking I poured it on the floor and refilled the glass with mineral water from my flask. Sipping slowly, I leaned against the bar and watched the two continue to assault the bartender. I had to be patient. My opening would come.

Then, my prayer was answered like relief from last night’s hangover. One of The Partitions bumped into TwystedPair and sloshed his beer. TwystedPair sighed, wiped the beer off his shirt, and rabbit punched the biker in his right kidney.

The Partitions were the most feared cyber-biker gang in ChatWorld. They hung out and hunted in a pack. This particular group consisted of ten, and when they saw one of their brethren go down they were all over the Rejecteddisk and TwystedPair like ugly on my Aunt Millie.

Nine against those two were actually about even odds, but I decided that this was the chance I had been waiting for. Rejecteddisk picked up Partitions one by one and choke slammed them onto the filthy floor, and TwystedPair proceeded to carve up a couple of them like a well practiced mother slicing a birthday cake.

One the bikers stumbled near me. I grabbed a bottle off the bar and introduced his head to it. A second was pushed in my direction. I applied a cyber-nerve pinch, and he went down like a school boy after a bar of soap in the shower.

Before you could say “Who me officer?” it was over. We turned back to our drinks. My cohorts nodded at me approvingly.

TwystedPair sat down his drink and said, “Nice work stranger. You new in these parts?”

“Just shipped in from the Orient. Name’s BarnacleBull. Didn’t catch yours.”

“That’s because I didn’t give it. What did you do on your ship?”

“Ran navigation equipment.”

“Hmmmmm, so you know something about computers...”

“Like a proctologist knows a bung hole. Why, matey?”

“Well my boss is always looking for...”

“Ah, TwystedPair, I’s dun thinks yez should be doin’ dat,” Rejectedisk butted in like a cut at the last dance of the prom, “maybes we should talks to da boss ferst.”

TwystedPair answered Rejectedisk with one of his patented rabbit punches to the kidney. I made a mental note of the effect it had on the thug.

The evil little man turned back to me and said, “Don’t pay any attention to my friend. His elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top, doesn’t have both oars in the water, one book short of a full library, you know. So are you looking for some work?”

“I could use it. I’m between ships and have seemed to have popped my wad on the ponies and the women. You know how it goes...”

“No, I don’t. But I do know my organization can use someone with a little muscle and some computer savvy. You interested?”

“What did you say I would be doing?’

“I didn’t. Do you want the job?”

“I’m not sure without a little more info...”

“We’ll pay 75 cyber dollars a weeks plus expenses.”

“...but what the heck I need the work.”

As I sat down my drink my personality momentarily shifted and little of the Moonlight mannerisms showed in my right hand. TwystedPair stared hard at me, but he was interrupted by the groans of his comrade at his feet.

“Okay, Bull,” he said as he looked a crane to lift Rejectedisk, “let’s go to work.”

I had to be careful around this one. He was as sharp as a letter opener. One slip and I would be yesterday’s hash. But I was in, that was what mattered.

We walked out the door and headed for their hideout.

Chap. 14

We walked down the street, TwystedPair and I together, Rejectedisk limping about a half a block behind. I was amazed at the number the little eely thug had done on the big ugly one. I made a note to watch those clever little fists at all times.

TwystedPair reached in his pocket and pulled out a pack of coffin nails. He noticed I was staring with longing of a priest at a cheerleader convention, so he lit one and tossed me the pack.

I torched one of the puppies up and deeply inhaled the acrid fumes. As the smoke hit my lungs I was thrown back like I’d touched my tongue to a light socket. Coughing wretchedly I stared through teary eyes at the pack: Balkan Cybronjae. Wheezing I inhaled deeply again allowing the smoke to assault my lungs like a jackhammer. God, I loved it. The man was slime but at least he had taste.

While we walked I noticed things around us started to slow down, like the place was filling with Jell-O. It could only mean a screen freeze, one of the problems that haunted ChatWorld. The tricky part for me was how to react. Flakes weren’t effected by screen freezes. We usually went on about our business, but the trouble was I didn’t know if the thugs were flakes or if they cared if I was one.

Everything ground to a halt. I decided to play it safe and stopped. Better to reveal too little than have someone read the whole deck of cards. TwystedPair also froze, Rejectedisk kept moving but stopped to wait for us. Was TwystedPair a flake or maybe he too was faking it? There was no way for me to figure out that one. All I could do was stand still and hope my rancheros didn’t start to itch too much.

The chatters waited patiently for the techs in ChatControl to try to unravel the problem. Sometimes freezes lasted for a minutes, sometimes for days. No one really knew why they happened, it was just one of those things about ChatWorld. Meanwhile, the flakes took advantage of the situation with some random pillaging and looting.

Luckily, it was a short one. In a few minutes everybody started to move again. I wiped my brow and threw down the coffin nail that had been burning into my fingers. TwystedPair smiled and threw me the pack. I lit one up. My head was nearly blown off by the serge of nicotine into my system. If this wasn’t heaven then it was close as a bikini wax.

Near the corner we stopped and got in a red sedan. The outside was clean and impeccable. The inside was trashed. Candy bars wrappers, coffin nail butts, empty wallets, used condoms, a kitchen sink; you name it, it was there. I thought it summed the operation up totally.

We sped off, hit the freeway, and headed for the link out of GenChat. I had no idea where they had hidden their lair this time. As I bumped around in the back seat I noticed there were no door handles on the inside. I hoped that it wasn’t a bad omen.

Rejectedisk turned a quick right down an exit, throwing me up against the passenger window. I read a sign and groaned as we quickly passed it: Welcum_to_JcokChat,_Dudes_&_Dudettes. So far this case had taken me to nearly every place I hated to go in this crummy little cyburg. Unfortunately, we had just entered one of the few that was left.

Conversations in JockChat were about as witty as freshman’s kegger. Still, if you liked to hang out with guys who looked like a catcher near the end of his career and smelled like a journeyman’s locker and the women who adored them, this was the place to be. Frankly, I would have rather stuck a red-hot needle in my eye.

The car stopped abruptly in front of a bar, throwing me over the seat into the front window. My cohorts chortled wickedly as I peeled myself off the glass. I was starting to have second doubts about going under cover.

I looked at the sign and shuddered involuntarily. The place was called The Cup.

“What’s the matter, Bull?” TwystedPair asked as he lit up another coffin nail. “Don’t tell me you don’t have the huevos for a dump like this?”

“No, it’s just a touch of the piles I got when shipped out.”

TwystedPair nodded and walked on the other side of Rejectedisk. We entered the room:

· Seven-11 leaves, heading for Champs.

· SuzieShortstopa says, "Coolness- girl thing"

· Cool_guy says, "loo"

· SuzieShortstopa bats her eyelashes at Cool_guy.

· Cool_guy says, "lol"

· Cool_guy says, "i`m a male!!!!!!!! 13/m!!!!!!"

· Chipshot says, "im a girl and i dont growl wings"

· Bro1 says, "Where from BrodShoulder?"

· Bro1 says, "HGey Brew"

· Bro1 says, "Hey Chipper"

· Bro1 says, "Hey Mil"

· Chipperjones10 says, "hey...what's up!"

· MillerLight says, "hi"

· Crushed_ice enters.

· Bro1 says “Hey Ice”

· SuzieShortstopa says, "Red- Wings fan!?"

· SleepsWithCheerleaders says, "i'm typing everything i'm saying to the beautiful girl on the other line, i'm talkin on the phone"

Not exactly a gathering of Nobel laureates.

We walked through the room, out the back door, down the alley, and stopped at the third door on the right. TwystedPair looked around to see if anyone had followed. Satisfied, he gave the door the old “shave and a hair cut” knock. It creaked open in response.

We entered in a dimly lit room. My eyes adjusted while the guard patted me down. I looked around and saw the familiar scene from my previous visit to the Bates lair. Everything looked pretty much the same as the last room except the modem was almost complete. It was huge, as big as thirteen year old boy’s wetdream.

There stood Bates himself surveying the work. He looked totally dispassionate yet I knew inside burned a soul that would turn his own mother to melba toast for a cyber-buck. Next to him was a cart. There seemed to be a large amount of stuff piled on it, but I couldn’t tell what it was because the cart was covered with a tarp.

We started walking in his direction. At last I could try to get some info from his lips which would be like attempting to pry a drink out of FryrTuck’s hands.

We were almost to Bates when he was distracted by a technician with some figures. He sighed and walked over to Ezyriter8 who was chained to another desk. He talked quietly for a minute, slapped the poor fellow along side the head, and watched quietly as Ezy rapidly crunched some more numbers.

TwystedPair steered me away and said, “This is not a good time. He can impossible sometimes. I’ve seldom seen him display so much emotion!

“Come on, I’ll show the masterplan, it’s in this room...”

We were almost to the room when my identity flickered again. TwystedPair was watching me closely this time. I felt a stabbing pain in my right kidney and slumped to the floor. I heard several guns cock and looked up to see myself surrounded by several well-armed Bates Boyz. I had a good idea how Custer felt.
“Okay, Moonlight,” Twist hissed as he kicked me in the ribs, “not bad, not bad at all. But the jig is up, the hens have flown the coop, you countered eggs too soon before putting them in the basket. Now get through that door before the boss sees just how bad I messed up!”

Rejectedisk picked me up and tried to throw me through the door, but it wasn’t open. I slammed against the hard wood and crumbled to the floor. My chicken was in the fat and the fire this time.

I needed a plan, a good plan, or I was going to be road scrapings for sure.
Chap. 15

I groaned and laid my face on the floor. It was filthy but cool, and after all the beatings I had been through any comfort I could find I would take. I closed my eyes to relax but was awakened by the playful tap of TwystedPair’s pointed shoe in my ribs.

“Okay, Moonlight,” he growled, “you can take off the disguise.”

I sighed, sat up, and pulled my PDA out of my jacket pocket. I clicked the “clear” button and BarnacleBull was edited back to my regular identity.

I stretched, yawned, and asked, “Aren’t you afraid of what the boss will think?”

“No, he just got the modem up. Look at him! I’ve never seen him so excited!”

I turned and looked at Bates. He stood impassively staring at the now humming modem. I had to hand it to him. I had never seen anyone else more capable of holding his heart on his sleeve that close to his vest.

I sat up, rubbed my neck and made a mental note to increase my retainer if I got out of this one. Maybe I needed a new line of work or to concentrate on my music. Piano didn’t pay much either but at least it was safer.

“Well, Moonlight, it looks like you’re about to cash in that big ticket to LaLaLand,” TwystedPair sneered.

I didn’t think he was talking about a trip to Southern California. I needed to find a way to stall for time until I could come up with a plan, any plan. I figured the sleazy little goon liked to hear the sound of his own voice so I asked him to fill me in on the scoop, the dope, the whole nine yards before they offed me.

“Sure, why not?” he said as he lit up a coffin nail. “You got this far so I guess you’ve earned it.

“Look around, Moonlight. Look at this little cyburg. The boss is tired of it. Know why? Because it’s like you and your detective agency, small potatoes. He’s ran this place for years. So we branched out, grabbed control of other chatlines, but that got old, too. You can only get so many, and they start to look the same.

“So he decided that outside was the way to go. We spent months setting up our contacts on the so he could slip into place when he jumped. It’s the challenge he’s been looking for.”

“Got your syndicate all ready, huh?” I asked trying to string out the conversation.

“More than that, Moonlight,” he continued as he slowly puffed on his smoke. “We got that, all that. But we got more, too. The boss found a file awhile back. It seems he has a striking resemblance to the CEO of a major software company. So we got it set up for the boss to take his place. Who knows? In a few months, if all goes right, you may be working for him!”

“So you going with him?”

“No. He needs someone in here to look after the operation. That’s going to be my job. I guess you could call it a promotion. Now it’s time for your promotion to the big CPU in the sky...”

I closed my eyes as he laid the cold steel of his gun against my head. Suddenly, I heard a scream and saw a blur. The gun went flying from TwystedPair’s hand as he crumbled to the floor. The blur was GypsyQueen.

She proceeded to hit two more with her best Chuck Norris roundhouse kick while I grabbed one by the ankles and flipped him. As he landed, I coldcocked him with my right fist, grabbed his gun, and used its handle to take out another at the kneecaps.

Gypsy was a whirling dervish of destruction as she dropped one goon after another. Then suddenly she was blindsided by a fist the size of Montana. As Gyspy lay stunned on the floor a sneering Rejectedisk lumbered toward her with a look of making her into mincemeat.

I ducked the fist he swung at me on the way. Then I felt a stabbing pain start in left kidney. I rolled away from the blow and hit TwystedPair with the back of my right hand. He went down like a bride’s maid at a bachelor’s party.

Gypsy was shaking off Rejectdisk’s blow, but it wouldn’t be in time unless I acted. I dived toward the goon and prayed that my plan would work. I slammed a rabbit punch into his already sore right kidney.

He stopped stunned. As he turned to look at me, Gypsy leaped into action with a well placed heel to the lug’s right temple. He folded like a bad poker hand. She grinned and gave me a thumb’s up.

I looked toward the modem. Bates and the cart were gone. He had made the jump. I thought about following him for minute, but the idea of being out there didn’t sit well. Maybe he would fail, maybe in the long run it made no difference. Things probably wouldn’t change very much for us in here anyway.

“How did you find me?” I asked as I lit up a coffin nail and fought back a coughing attack.

“Oh Albie, you know me. I knew you’d try something like this so I put a bug in your pants.”

I refrained from an obvious comment and asked, “Then why didn’t you get here sooner? These guys almost put me away like a bad picture stashed in the back of a photo album.”

“Albie, we girls had to do our hair before we went out in public!”

I looked at where Gypsy pointed. I saw Daybreak, and she was stunning as usual. She was wearing floor length leopard number that showed off those curves. So little was left to the imagination that it sucked the breath right out of your rancheros.

Her hair was done in a bun, and she had removed one of the bobby pins to pick Ezy’s lock. He was free. Then I noticed that the delicious tongue that had spun me in several directions was tickling his tonsils.

“Hey Daybreak, what gives?” I asked as I walked up to them. “I thought you said he was just a friend.”

“Oh, he is Moonlight, but then I have lots of friends. I usually keep them in a private room called The_Harem unless I want to display them.”

“But what about us?”

“Us? Moonlight, I told you that you attracted me, but I also told you that you were slime. You don’t think?....You were a...distraction. Now I’ve got my collection back together and that’s it, unless you want to take a bath and join my crew.”

“I don’t think I’d like being kept on file,” I said bravely, swallowing my angst, “but I would like my fee for the case.”

“Sure thing. And here’s an extra twenty for last night.”

Anyone with any pride would have flung the money back in her face. However, I remembered my last visit from the representatives for the collection agency and quickly pocketed the cash before she could change her mind.

“Well, this is it, Moonlight,” she said as she tucked a strand of hair back into her bun. “If you ever want to see me, just whistle. You do know how to whistle don’t you?”

“No.”

“Too bad.”

Without another word, she took Ezyriter8 by the arm. I watched that magnificent carriage for one last time as she glided out the door. I felt like she had taken my heart, threw on the floor, stepped on it, pondered what she had done, and stepped on it again.

I thought I heard police sirens, and I thought I saw TwystedPair and Rejectedisk slip out a side door. I didn’t care. All I knew was that I’d allowed another dame to carve up my soul and serve it on a platter like a meatloaf. Would I ever learn? I doubted it. Some joes wear their rancheros on their sleeves, and I guess I was one of them.

I noticed a hand on my shoulder. It was Gypsy. I didn’t really mind.

“Come on, Albie,” she said quietly, “it’s time to go home.”
Chap. 16

· Elmoe says, "elmoe lights are lowering"

· Ace’sBandage pounces on all the guys to wake them up

· FlasherDasher dangles his feet in the pool.

· Alma throws a rowdy boy out on his ear

· Kration says, "catching some zzzzzzzzs now and then"

· OneBIGLimey says, "Any other Brits in here ?"

· Contented1 sits at the bar and has a drink

· FlasherDasher looks for a sexy women to talk to

· Contented1says, "Just got back"

· Prfctgod says, "My don't we all make a big deal of saying hello"

· Jetstreem looks for prey

· Warf gives all of the sexy women a rose @}---}----------------

· Chattiecathie not feelin' too sexy today, but thanks anyway :)

· Prfctgod says, “plays desperado on juke box"

· Me-Patootie enters

· Jetstreem treats men like spam

It was a quiet morning in the Tahiti. I sat at the piano sucking down another coffin nail. The top of the piano was littered with empty bottles. I had been trying to fill the black hole Daybreak had left in my heart with mineral water, but all I had succeeded in doing was increasing my trips to the restroom.

Twink sat down next to me on the bench and put her hand on my shoulder. She looked as good as she smelled, and she smelled pretty darn good.

“Oh Al,” she said while brushing some ashes off my suit, “you just got to forget her. She was bad news from the start.”

“You’re right Twink,” I sighed as I lit up another coffin nail. I had been smoking like a chainsaw since I got back. “But I can’t get her out of my mind.”

“Oh Al, when I think of what she did to you, I could just...spit! She broke your heart and almost got you killed, and all for a lousy seventy dollars! I could just claw that hussy’s eyes out!”

I looked at Twink in surprise. I had never seen her quite so animated. Or so lovely. She was a real looker in my book, I’d always known that. But until now I hadn’t realized how much. Frankly, she made Daybreak look like the third place finisher at a beauty contest at the old folk’s home. And I had never seen her look so concerned about me.

Then I remembered another time when her looks had grabbed and held my attention like a bug on flypaper. She had stood on a balcony in a long gown, and I had told her how she was the light...wait...damn flake memory anyway!

I came back around and saw she was looking at me. I decided I had to try now, or I might never. I had to know if I would roll a seven or boxcars with her. I leaned forward toward those lips that seemed to be waiting for me to knock on the door and come in.

Suddenly, I heard a voice behind us, “Excuse me, I’m looking for an Al_B._Moonlight?”

I turned around and was nearly knocked off the bench by the sight. She was about my height. I like a women my height; you can look them in the face a lot easier when kissing them. Her long dark hair hung suggestively across her shirt, and she had those long lashes that just made a man want to take out his comb. The dame was a knockout, and you know how I was a sucker for a pretty face.

Twink sighed and started to clear off the top of the piano. I thought I saw her hand tremble out of the corner of my eye, but it was probably my imagination. Like I said, what would a classy doll like her want with a flake like me?

I lit another coffin nail and said, “I’m Moonlight, sister. What can I do for you?”

“My name is WallFlower. I’m in trouble,” she replied with that voice as soft a goose down pillow, “and the word in the rooms is that when you need help, look for Al_B._Moonlight.”

“That’s true, doll,” I said between puffs, “help is my middle name...”