Free A Fire in the Sun by George Alec Effinger Page B

Jacques was the token Christian in our crowd. He liked to tell people that he was three-quarters European. Jacques was strictly heterosexual and smug about it. Nobody liked him much. Mahmoud was a sexchange, formerly a slim-hipped, doe-eyed dancing girl in the clubs on the Street. Now he was short, broad, and mean, like one of those evil djinn you had to sneak past to rescue the enchanted princess. I heard that he was running the organized prostitution in the Budayeen for Friedlander Bey these days. Saied the Half-Hajj glared at me over the rim of a glass of Johnny Walker, his usual drink. He was wearing his tough-guy moddy, and he was just looking for me to give him an excuse to break my bones.
    "Where y'at?" I said.
    "You're scum, Audran," said Jacques softly. "Filth."
    "Thanks," I said, "but I can't stay long." I sat in the empty chair. Monsieur Gargotier came over to see if I was spending any money tonight. His expression was so carefully neutral, I could tell he hated my guts now too.
    "Seen Chiri pass by here in the last few minutes?" I asked. Monsieur Gargotier cleared his throat. I ignored him and he went away.
    "Want to shake her down some more?" asked Mahmoud. "Think maybe she walked out with some paper clips that belong to you? Leave her alone, Audran."
    I'd had enough. I stood up, and Saied stood up across the table from me. He took two quick steps toward me, grabbed my cloak with one hand, and pulled his other fist straight back. Before he could slug me, I chopped quickly at his nose. A little blood came out of his nostril. He was startled, but then his mouth began to twist in pure rage. I grabbed the rnoddy on his corymbic implant and ripped it loose. I could see his eyes unfocus. He must have been completely disoriented for a moment. "Leave me the hell alone," I said, pushing him back down in his chair. "All of you." I tossed the moddy into the Half-Hajj's lap.
    I headed back down the Street, seething. I didn't know what to do next. Chiri's club—my club, now—was packed with people and I couldn't count on Indihar to keep order. I decided to go back there and try to sort things out. Before I'd walked very far, Saied came up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. "You're making yourself real unpopular, Maghrebi," he said.
    "It's not all my doing."
    He shook his head. "You're letting it happen. You're responsible."
    "Thanks," I said. I kept walking.
    He took my right hand and slapped his badass moddy into it. "You take this," he said. "I think you're gonna need it."
    I frowned. "The kind of problems I got call for a clear head, Saied. I got all these moral questions to think about. Not just Chiri and her club. Other things."
    The  Half-Hajj  grunted.  "Never understand you, Marîd," he said. "You sound like a tired old relic. You're as bad as Jacques. If you just choose your moddies carefully, you never have to worry about moral questions. God knows I never do."
    That's all I needed to hear. "See you around, Saied," I said.
    "Yeah, you right." He turned and headed back to the Fee Blanche.
    I went on to Chiri's where I shooed everybody out, closed up the place, and drove back to Friedlander Bey's. I climbed the stairs wearily to my apartment, glad that the long, surprise-filled day was finally over. As I was getting ready for bed, Kmuzu appeared quietly in the doorway. "You shouldn't deceive me, yaa Sidi."
    "Your feelings hurt, Kmuzu?"
    "I am here to help you. I'm sorry you refused my protection. A time may come when you will be glad to call on me."
    "That's quite possibly true," I said, "but in the meantime, how about leaving me alone?"
    He shrugged. "Someone is waiting to see you, yaa Sidi."
    I blinked at him. "Who?"
    "A woman."
    I didn't have the energy to deal with Umm Saad now. Then again, it might be Chiri—
    "Shall I show her in?" asked Kmuzu.
    "Yeah, what the hell." I was still dressed, but I was getting very tired. I promised myself that this was going to be a very short