Free The Age Atomic by Adam Christopher

throat.
    â€œWould you be the, ah, King of 125th Street?”
    The man turned and clicked his heels together. “I have the pleasure of holding such high office, Detective Bradley.” He clasped his hands behind his back and looked between Rad and Jennifer, his face split with a grin. “I’m so glad you could make it. Really, I am.”
    Jennifer shook her head. “We’re here on official business, sir.”
    The man’s smile didn’t falter. He looked Jennifer up and down and then winked at Rad without trying to hide it. Rad raised an eyebrow.
    â€œI was only expecting one, of course,” said the King. He clicked his tongue and glanced back at Jennifer. “But I’m not one to complain about such pleasant company.”
    â€œAh, yeah,” said Rad. “Pardon me for saying, sir, but you don’t look like much of a king.”
    The King laughed. “Well, it takes all sorts, my man…” He looked down and seemed to study the carpet. Rad sighed and exchanged a look with Jennifer, but she seemed as bewildered as he was.
    Rad said, “Hey, buddy?” In the pocket of his coat he could feel the rod from the warehouse. “Your majesty?”
    At this, the King clapped his hands and threw his head back in a booming laugh. When he looked at Rad again his eyes were streaming tears, which glinted green in the light from outside.
    â€œLook,” said Rad, “you wanted me to come here because you wanted something back, something that I picked up downtown. But more important, you said Kane Fortuna was here. So where is he?”
    The King slapped his knee. “My, you do like to get right to business, don’t you detective?”
    Rad ignored him. “Let’s cut to the chase. You take me to Kane and I might give you the component back. But I think Special Agent Jones here might have something to say about that. See, I don’t think she likes whatever racket it is you’re running, and I’m not sure I do either. But hey, there’s a lot in this city I’m not sure I like, and this little ice age we got going on is one of them. So let’s get moving before the ice outside gets any thicker and we all need to start sipping antifreeze like your friend at the bar down the street.”
    The King had started laughing as Rad spoke, a mild case of the giggles turning into a full belly laugh. The detective shook his head in frustration. It figured. The man was a lunatic. What other kind of person would call himself the King of 125th Street and lock himself into a disused theater?
    Jennifer stepped up to the King, who was leaning over, recovering from his fit of mirth.
    â€œLook, sir,” she said. The King looked up at her and waved her to continue as he took deep breaths, coughing as his laughter threatened to return.
    Jennifer glanced at Rad, then looked back at the King.
    â€œThere’s something going on in the city. I have a lot of questions I need to ask you. I’d appreciate your cooperation and I’d prefer it if we could do this in a civil manner, but we can do this in a more formal capacity downtown if required.”
    The King of 125th Street finally stood. He sniffed and stuffed his hands into his pockets, then looked Jennifer up and down again before turning back to Rad.
    â€œCome,” said the King, patting Rad on the forearm. “Let me give you the grand tour, so you can see how we run this joint.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jennifer. “Feel free to tag along, sweetheart. You sure do brighten the room.”
    He laughed and headed towards the right-hand set of doors that led into the theater.
    Jennifer sidled up to Rad. “He’s psychotic.”
    â€œThe man thinks he’s a king,” said Rad. He removed his hat and rubbed his scalp, then glanced at the driver. The machine was still standing, immobile, silent. “The king of what?”
    â€œKing of the robots?”
    Rad