'Zaratorio: The Story Continues' is a political parable dedicated in general to everyone who believes in #PeaceinUkraine and who says #NoToWar. More specifically, it is written in support of the brave and generous women and men of Medecins Sans Fro...
The Harlem nightclub bears an uncanny resemblance to Zaratorio's dungeon in 'the far future'. Given that the date on The New York Times reads 1st December 1930, this seems most unlikely, but Anna has become completely used to both the improbable and the impossible happening in her life ever since she began investigating the SISP.
Paulina has also recognised the similarity with the time-travelling wizard's lair, but Sehzula has never heard jazz music before, and so she is fascinated by the sultry singer, Melissa.
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Paulina is also intrigued, but feels that it is rather more important to speak to Anna.
'My powers continue to increase. Are our "flapper" costumes appropriate, my dear?'
'Probably a few years on the late side. But don't worry about that. My sources tell me that the owner of this club is a Ukrainian exile called Artem Koryt who has moved south to New York from Canada, via Ohio.'
'So geography isn't his strong point?'
'I wouldn't know. But making money and hiring beautiful women do seem to be high on his list of priorities. The words tongue and hanging out also spring to mind.'
Sehzula is completely oblivious to Anna's little joke as Melissa begins another number.
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The journalist smiles and continues her explanation.
'The Pechera Club is very popular and now it is beginning to fill up with the regular customers. And while it is quite respectable - despite the décor - in the early part of evening, I understand that late at night it becomes a speakeasy.'
Paulina looks a little puzzled, but then recalls an earlier conversation about the legal Prohibition of selling alcoholic drinks in the USA at this point in history, and nods her understanding.
'I think this must be the boss. Sehzula dear, we have a table in the corner ...'
'I'm sorry. Of course ... her singing is just so wonderful ...'
***
Paulina's prediction is correct. A short, tubby man in a suit and dark glasses is entering the room accompanied by three tall and muscular African-American males in equally smart attire. He nods appreciatively as the crowd acknowledge him, and he makes his way to a table right next to Melissa's performance stage. Before he sits down, he shakes hands with her pianist, who soon strikes up another tune.
The Buzhan warrior leans back in her chair and sighs.
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'I told you the music was good,' remarks Sehzula.
'It's not the music. It's him. He has a chrono-signature. He must be a biotempador!'
