Free Constantine by John Shirley, Kevin Brodbin Page B

a bit in her chair. She picked up the receiver.
    “Dodson… Hello?”
    No one there. Not even a dial tone. No sound of someone at the other end.
    She hung up - and the phone on the next desk rang. She got up and put her hand on it… and the phone on the desk beyond that one rang. Then another phone, and another, and another yet, till every phone in the room was ringing.
    She tensed, and then thought: No. Stay calm. Stay calm and see. ..
    And as if in response to her refusal to be intimidated, the phones stopped ringing. All at once.
    She took a long breath, looking around. But there was nothing to see.
    She stepped to the printer, plucked off the page with Constantine’s address, and left the building. Kind of hastily.
    --
    Chaz slammed the taxi’s door and hurried after Constantine. Always trailing after. “It’s usually the bear, right?” Chaz asked. “Or three ducks in a cloud?”
    Constantine just shook his head.
    The rain had eased to a drizzle by the time they got to the EI Carmen. “So am I coming in with you?” Chaz asked.
    “Give it a shot,” Constantine said.
    “Give it a shot? What does that mean?”
    But Constantine was already on his way through the crowd outside the club. Some very elegant people here, Chaz noted.
    Chaz heard a lady in a sparkly black gown say, in a sort of stage whisper, “I understand there’s a kind of backroom club here that almost no one can get into… “
    “You wouldn’t want to go there, from what I’ve heard,” her handsome, tuxedoed companion said.
    Constantine and Chaz threaded through the crowd and into the bar, where the sounds of a mariachi band pervaded the air like the flavor of pineapple. Chaz suddenly wanted a pina colada.
    But there wasn’t time for that - Constantine was headed for the back, through a side door.
    Chaz hurriedly followed, caught up with Constantine around the comer from the bathrooms, where a sizeable bouncer sat at a small table, looking uncomfortable on a small folded metal chair.
    Despite his red blazer and tie - the jacket stretching tight for his massive chest - the bouncer had the look of a thug, but one who maybe knew more than most thugs do. He seemed to be blocking access to whatever was beyond the red velvet curtain behind him.
    The big man sized Constantine up for one expressionless moment, then cut what looked like a tarot deck on the little table, and pulled out a single card. He held the card so that only he could see the front of it; Constantine and Chaz saw only the back, which showed an image of two dolphins leaping into the air.
    Constantine looked at the card. He closed his eyes.
    After a moment he said, “Two frogs on a bench.”
    The card smacked down on the table, faceup. On it was artwork showing two frogs sitting companionably on a bench. The bouncer gestured for Constantine to pass.
    He sidled past the table and started through the curtain, which he left half-open, as if inviting Chaz to follow.
    And Chaz started to follow - then was blocked by the bouncer’s hand. He drew another card from the deck, held it up between them, face away from Chaz. It was Chaz’s turn to take the test.
    On the back of the card were the same two dolphins. Chaz said, “Two frogs on a bench.”
    The bouncer frowned, and slapped the card on the table faceup. It showed a dancing bear in a dress.
    The bouncer wordlessly pointed at the exit, shaking his head.
    “Hey, I’m with him!” Chaz said, shouting after Constantine. “Right, John? John! Come on, don’t be such a dick!”
    Constantine didn’t even glance back. The bouncer got threateningly to his feet and Chaz backed away, thinking:
    Someday, John. Someday.
    --
    Constantine pushed through a metal door, stepped out onto the landing over the cavernous room-a room far, far bigger than the nightclub upstairs. Impossible to tell, for sure, how far it was down to the floor. It was a vast chamber with many lights and other sorts of glows in it, yet dark for all of that. The farther