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The gorilla was a natty dresser that much I could say. If the gorilla had a brain was yet to be determined. We could not let our assistants face the music alone. Whenever we received word of a bookie becoming suspicious, we shut down that location and moved to another. However, this area must have someone with a brain as a big boss, as they did not drop their suspicions when we moved. The best answer seemed to be to track down the boss with a brain and 'change' things.

New York City really was still much like the recreated historical area around central park in my time. Being only ten meters above sea level, well when we lost most of Japan we also lost most of New York City and the rest of the eastern seaboard. However, in the here and now there were still buildings that reached up into the sky and people everywhere. What took some adjusting to was that here and now there were taxis everywhere, at times I would believe that more than fifty percent of the cars on the road were cabs. They had some arcane magical method for determining who could drive where, as the streets did not have painted lines. The subway, taxis, double-decker buses, and the Ell seemed to be the primary methods of transportation. Everyone wore hats, male or female. Women wore dresses, and men wore ties and sports jackets unless you were an executive, then you only wore suits. Then there were the smells. Air conditioning was not all the prevalent and outside in the summer can only be described as brutal. Still, some of the street vendor smells were enough to start the tummy a growling.

I really doubt that this gorilla trailing me was executive material. But being in the mafia seemed to mean that you wore dark suits. I guess it was some kind of a uniform. Our thought was that what worked for the biker gangs might work on these guys also. However, unlike the bikers who could get out, the Mafia appeared to be once a member always a member.

I tried to not lose the guy while I headed for Central Park. At night, especially, what went into the park did not always come back out. This was true of the subways also. Crime was like a way of life for some residents. If not the big organized stuff like the Mafia, then the neighborhood thugs who just wanted a bit more than they had.

Dusk had settled in when I was well inside the park, I waited for the moment when I could round a corner and be out of sight for a moment. Then seeing that the coast was clear, I took off like a race car, and probably just as fast. I circled the bushes and came upon him as he was standing there complaining to himself about losing me.

I tapped him on the shoulder and asked, "Hey bud, you looking for me?" The poor guy about got whiplash wheeling around and reaching into his jacket. I grabbed his arm, and suddenly his motion to grab his gun stopped. His eyes bugged out when he could not even budge my arm nor shake my grip on him. Giving up on his gun he tried using his fists. He slammed his fist into my belly as hard as he could and then the tears started to flow as he felt the pain of broken bones in his hand. He might as well have hit a brick wall with all his strength for all the good it did to hit me.

He held his hand in front of his face looking unbelievingly at it. I snatched his gun next. A quick flip and Bit used our mining gadget on it to make it vanish into an explosion of dust in the air above his head. Shaking my head as I let him go I said, "I don't like guns, and I don't like people following me. I'll let it go this time, but if I were you, I'd get a different job fast." I walked around the bush again and put 'er into high gear as soon as I was out of sight and sprinted away. He came around the bush looking for me, but there was nothing to see as I was already a couple bushes away watching him.

Yep, you guessed it. The next day my friend of the other day and five other goons were tailing me. He was pretty obvious with his hand done up in a cast. Serina had bugged me about getting in on the fun, and so we were strolling our way to Central Park. Again it was after sunset when we entered the park. Our own personal goon squad faithfully tailed us the whole way. You would have thought they would have learned a lesson yesterday. But no. They were just as visible and just as obvious as yesterday.

Once we found a quiet spot, we stopped and let them surround us. The gorilla with the broken hand started things off, "Youse shuda wised up yesterday."

Serina was looking like a kid before Christmas. Almost jumping up and down with excitement. "Can I have that one, can I, can I?" Serina enthused with as much enthusiasm as I had ever seen as she pointed to the biggest goon in the group. Now to paint the picture, this guy was just over two meters or about six-foot seven-inches in the lingo of the here and now. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow. His arms were almost as big as most guys thighs. Serina was in her little black dress. Now lest you think that was frivolous remember that this dress was one she brought from the future. One she had as an Imperial Princess. Among other characteristics was a non-newtonian surface effect. Looks like silk feels like silk, but if a bullet hits it, it might as well be solid steel.

The goons were looking at Serina as if a rabbit had shown up with a repeating rifle. The big one that Serina pointed out used reasonably good English and said, "Buddy, you better keep your doll under control before she gets hurt. And if I were you, I'd start talking about why you always hit those long shots."

I looked back at Serina and said, "Well 'Doll,' do you think you can play with that one without breaking it too much? I think he is the one we want to talk to. I'll keep the rest of these gorillas busy."

Serina's, "Sure," was spoken as she flickered over to the Gorilla. A short flurry of arms and legs left the big guy gasping on the ground. "Ummm, I think I broke it," Serina said.

About that point, well do you remember that non-newtonian ability of her dress? Yep, one of them did.

Now, mind you a moment after he fired I had broken both of his arms and laid him out unconscious and probably with a concussion. However, the guy was an expert and hit her right where her heart was. Dead center. The rest of the goons saw it hit and saw her sway a bit before the bullet fell with a dull clang onto the cement walkway. Their eyes grew wide open, then they saw my face and their faces went white as a ghost. A deep, gravelly growl escaped my lips, and that was enough to cause them to whip around and run. Adrenalin gave their legs wing, but they might as well have been standing still. I forgot and turned on the speed. I left a trail of unconscious goons behind me.

The big guy was now up on his elbows looking with disbelief at his fellow gorillas lying on the ground, in various contorted pretzel shapes. Serina said, "I only damaged mine, I think you broke yours."

I was still coming down from my high, and seeing Serina standing there with not a scratch on her I relaxed even more. "Ok, my friend. We need to talk."

"Not even, if you flew down in a flying saucer." The gorilla croaked out.

"Really," Serina asked? "Let's see if that's true." [Bit, now.]

The little clearing we were in lit up with glow rather than a beam of light. I reached down and grabbed the guys lapels and single armed him upright. "OK, I said how about if we use one to fly up from here?"

From the way, his eyes looked as we hauled him into Bit I doubted that we would have much trouble getting him to talk.