Mike Resnick by Stalking the Unicorn

Author:Stalking the Unicorn
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-01-08T19:32:05+00:00

Chapter 9

1:08 AM-1:31 AM

Mallory walked out the door and found Felina sitting with her back against the side of the building, just out of reach of the rain.

“Come on,” he said. “We’ve got work to do.”

She stared off into space and made no response.

“Don’t blame me,” he said irritably. “You’re the one who misbehaved.” She shrugged. “I got bored.”

“That’s no excuse. We’re on an important job.”

Felina got to her feet. “Maybe I’ll forgive you,” she said.

“You’ll forgive me?” repeated Mallory.

Suddenly she caught sight of the shamrock and, before he could stop her, she grabbed it and stuffed it in her mouth.

“It’s terrible!” she said after chewing for a moment, spitting out the remains.

“Nobody told you to eat it,” said Mallory. “That’s the kind of behavior I’m talking about.” She stared at him, her pupils like two black slits, then very slowly turned her back to him.

“Well, if that’s your attitude,” said Mallory, “I’ll send you off with Colonel Carruthers when we meet in an hour.” He started walking away, and suddenly she flung herself onto his back, wrapping her legs about his waist and clutching his neck with her arms.

“I’ll stay with you,” she purred, her whole body vibrating. “You’re forgiven.” “How comforting,” said Mallory, wincing as her claws dug into his neck. “Now, get off.” She leapt directly from his back to a lamppost, spun once around it, hurled herself into the air, and, to Mallory’s amazement, landed lightly on her feet.

They walked past a number of cheap nightclubs, many of which were populated entirely by elves and goblins, and then came to a row of dilapidated hotels, two of which had signs posted to the effect that they were for humans only, while another catered exclusively to females of any species. After that came an entire block full of taverns, most with live bands; one, which seemed to fascinate Felina, had a jazz trio composed of three shaggy, apelike creatures wearing top hats and playing primal rhythms on a huge drum made from the skin of some incredibly large animal.

When they reached 48th Street they turned left, and were soon standing in front of the Rialto Burlesque Theater, an ancient building that had once presented Shakespeare and Shaw, but was now reduced to an endless string of stripteasers.

Photographs of the headliners were displayed in glass cases that had once held pictures of the Barrymores and the Lunts, and Mallory, who hadn’t seen a strip show in years, was surprised at the plethora of gimmicks that had evolved since the days of his youth. There were wild untamed jungle strippers and high-class society strippers. There were strippers who claimed to be Nazis and strippers who swore they had teleported here from Andromeda. There were strippers who boasted about their multitude of college degrees and came out dressed in caps and gowns, strippers who spoke only in monosyllabic squeals and whines and came out swathed in diapers and baby bunting, baton-twirling strippers, contortionist strippers, and tapdancing strippers. There was even a vampire stripper who finished her act in a coffin.

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