Chapter Six

Inside, Joe had moved the red reploid behind the counter, and only one other person was at the bar. Joe has PAS ready and rearing to go, but he dared not fire it. He only called me for emergencies.

The other guy at the bar looked about 17. He was probably 5'11, thin and muscular. He had short, buzz cut brown hair. A nice pair of sunglasses perfectly hid his eyes. A beautiful black italian wool suit covered his body, italian silk shirt under the jacket. He wore italian leather shoes, shined up nice. He was sipping a vodka shot and a coke.

"Hey. You causin trouble here?"
"Hmm?"
"You heard me, kid. What're you doin here?"
"Just getting a drink."
"Yeah? Well, I DO NOT GET CALLED OVER HERE FOR NO DAMN REASON."
"There's a reason."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. Some guys were trying to mug me over there by the pool table. So I shot the damned mutherf*ckers."
"That's why. Now, are you really old enough to drink?"
"Yeah."
"I'm gonna need to see your ID."

He handed it to me. I took it and looked for a second and tore it to pieces.

"WHATTHEFUCK DID YOU JUST DO MAN?"
"It's fake." I whipped out my buster arm. He was scared. I could tell, and that meant what I wanted to do worked.
"H...h...how can you tell?"
"Trust me. I made fake ID's that no one can tell if it's fake. This is easy to tell it's fake."
"That so?"
"Yeah."
"Hmph."
"Tell me your name, kid."
"No."
"DAMNIT TELL ME!"
"...Dan."
"Ok. Now how old are you?"
"18."
"Now, are you going to leave quietly?"
"...Will I go to jail...?"
"...Well, you could serve your jailtime working for me."
"Is it better than prison?"
"Tracer Bullet, Reploid Detective."
"...Talk with the police."
"Boy, I work with the police. They won't care."
"...Ok..."

He took off the sunglasses. He had big, expressive, brown eyes that just made you melt like butter. But I don't melt, but it did affect me a bit. He amazed even me, with those eyes.

"Ok. I'll go outside and talk with them."

I talked with the police about it outside.

"Damnit Tracer, you know I can't let you do that."

"Yes, Captain, you can. You know it and I know it."

"DAMN the community service hours. Fine, he works with you."

~Meanwhile, in the bar~

"Son, do you have any idea why I called Tracer?"
"Yeah... I'm sorry, sir."
"Well, I'm going to forgive you. Did the same thing m'self once. So you got sympathy from me. But just don't go doin that again."
"Sure thing."

I walked in, and stared him straight in the eye.

"Get your coat on, if you brought it. It's a bit of a walk to my office."

I walked slowly that night. I'm not sure why, but the day'd been so f*cked up that I really didnt' give a shit. Dan walked slowly beside me, head hung low as if in shame. I kinda felt bad for him... not really knowing why. His suit had water droplets running off of it, mine was just drenched. And it felt sorta wierd, too, for me to walk along side someone, ANYONE, without them having handcuffs on.

"How many years?"
"S'cuse me?"
"How long do I have to work?"
I looked up at the sky, clouds clearing. "Five years."
"Oh..."
"Hey, you could be in prison for the next 50 years to the rest of your life. But I negotiated for your sake."
"Thanks... hey, the rain stopped."
We looked up. The full moon shone bring, "...sumpin ya jes don' see 'roun' Detroit no mo'."... Quote some southerner I talked to once.
"OH SHIT! Dan! Follow me!"
"Huh? Where we going?"
"Oh shit oh shit oh shit...GOD DAMN I hope Zikakis took care of her..."
We got to the Golden Fleece. I sat down next to Ciel in a hurry, motioned to Zikakis for 2 beers, motioned Dan to sit next to me and have one of them, and then I caught my breath.
"Tracer! Your back!" Ciel said happily.
"And all out of breath, as per usual, eh Tracer?" Plamen laughed.
"Sh...shut...*huff huff* Shut up, Zikakis."
"Heheheh, two beers, here ya go."
I took a swig of my beer, and put it down.
"Hey, Plamen, lemme talk to you in private for a minute..."
"Uh oh... You never call me that or ask me that, and now you're doing both... oh shit... This's gotta be important. Come, to the office."

His office was small, a little closet with a light and desk.

"Zikakis, what am I gonna do?"
"Whaddaya mean?"
"LOOK. My day has been FUCKED UP. MAJORLY. First, I get a job from a strange red reploid from the future. Then, heheh, then I drag in here that girl Ciel, heheheheh...THEN I have to take care of the other kid for the next five years while he works off a jail sentence.... I can't do it. I can't take care of em both."
"..."
"I wish I could figure out what to do."
Knock knock knock
"I'll see who it is Zikakis."
It was Ciel.
"Tracer, Can I see you for a moment?"
"Yeah." I stepped out.
"I was wondering... if I could stay here, with Plamen, until I find Zero."
"...I'll check."

I told Zikakis, he walked out. He kept his head low, put his hands together and hung them down. He looked up at her, smile on his face, and outstretched his arms.

"Welcome, Ciel."
"Oh, THANK YOU!"
"Say, Tracer, shouldn't you get back to the office?"
"Yeah. See you later, Zikakis. So long, Ciel."
"Bye!"
"See ya later."

I grabbed my beer by the neck and Dan by the collar and headed out the door.

It wasn't a long walk back to the office. I motioned to the couch.

"Ya can crash there for the night. I've got my chair to sit in and relax in, some paper work to do."
"Sure thing. Thanks."

He came in, took off his suit jacket, and plopped down on the couch. He was out like a light. Fortunatley, I had things to do so early in the night.

I headed back to my files, and looked at files under 'C'. I found Capashen in there, and studied the file. He had a place in Chicago that was fairly big. I figured I would search around town for another day then head to chicago, where some big stuff was gonna happen. I slumped into my chair, propped my feet up on the table, and pulled the brim of my hat over my eyes and fell asleep.

The phone went off at about 2:30 in the morning. I quickly, yet groggily, answered.

"Tracer."

{Hey, Tracer, it's Joe. I hate to call you so early.}

"This had BETTER be important, Joe."

{…well… you know that Capashen guy?}

"Yeah?"

{He's headed for the first train to Chicago tomorrow morning.}

"I'd kiss you, but I'm not that kinda guy."

{He was stoned beyond stoned. I got it out of him.}
"Never threaten with drinks, man."

{It's the best way.}

"Ok. Talk to you… later."

I hung up. I quickly called the train station, always open.

"Hello, East Detroit Train Depot? Yes, I'd like 2 tickets for the first train to Chicago."

{Alright, your tickets will be waiting for you in front of your home at 5:30 AM. May I ask who the resident is?}

"Tracer Bullet."

{The detective?}

"Yes."

{Very well. Sleep well, you'll need it. We'll be there in 3 hours.}

"Wonderful."

I hung up and quickly fell asleep.