The woman planted the bottle at the center of the table, put a hand on each of Valentine's shoulders, and did a brief bump and grind. "You wanna go upstairs? Ready, willing, and free of charge".
"No thanks".
"Ah, the follies of youth", Hornbreed said, though Valentine guessed the wing leader had only half a decade on him. "You should take advantage of the newbie's wings. One night only".
"What was the fighting up in Colorado about?" Valentine asked.
"Those jokers are trying to starve us by cutting off the Colorado River. We took out the dams".
"Must have been big bombs".
"No, demolition teams. It was more an airmobile operation. Ever since that fiasco in Fifty we use our own troops on the ground if we have to land anything. Damn Grogs flapped off as soon as things got a little hot".
Valentine wondered if the Kurian Year Fifty "fiasco" was the operation at Love Field in Dallas. His old regiment, the Razors, had been so battered by the aerial pounding, Southern Command had broken it up - but he wasn't about to make Hornbreed feel better by saying so.
Odd that he felt more like shaking the man's hand than ever. The aerial assault had been well coordinated and deadly.
"Don't let the rationing fool you", Starguide added. "This is a profound creche. You never hear a Hisser, unless you're riding a desk at GHQ. We run our own lives. We get..."
A rattlesnake-decorated arm cut him off as the singer wrapped herself around Valentine's back.
"We've got a first timer here tonight, named..."
"Max", Hornbreed supplied.
She hopped up and planted her thong-divided buttocks on the bar table, planting her sandaled foot firmly on Valentine's crotch. Valentine watched her eyeballs rattle around and decided she was a little stoned. "Let's rass it for the Circus' newest hero, Max.
"From the rigs of Catalina
To the shoals of Mississippi
We shall fight for mankind's uplift
To Earth's glorious destiny
"In our fight for truth and justice
And to keep our conscience clean
We will always follow orders
of the Saviors of Our Dream".
Cheering broke out at the end of the song and Valentine reached up for a kiss, lifting her leg out of the way. He used the leverage to throw her slight body over his shoulder.
"I'm taking her up", he called to the crowd, heading for the stairs.
"Hit that silk hard!" a drunk in the crowd shouted.
"My set's not over, you bastard", the singer yelled, punching him in the small of the back.
Two pipeline-armed men in leather vests, probably bouncers, appeared at the front of the crowd, but no call for assistance came.
He slapped one tan buttock in return. "She'll be back after a brief intermission", Valentine said as he took the first steps, to cheering approval.
He paused at the top of the stairs. A hallway led to a marked washroom and several doors. He tried the nearest door; it wasn't locked.
A big, cushioned wooden lounge chair and a double bed almost filled the little paneled room. Sponge-painted clouds gave the room a nursery feel. He found a light switch. A single bulb in an orange and blue Chinese lantern gave the room a grotto glow. There was a rag rug on the floor, and a pair of towels next to a washbasin and an empty pitcher on a little shelf.