William Gibson Br

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and then he was in front of Blackwell, his hands on the huge shoulders. "But
you don't think that, do you, Keithy?
You didn't in Pentridge. Not when you came for me. And not when I came back
for you."
Blackwell's eyes glistened. He was about to say something, but Yamazalci
suddenly stood up, blinking, and put his green plaid sportscoat on. He craned
his neck, peering nearsightedly at the pins
204 William Gihson he'd used to mend it, then seemed to realize that everyone
in the suite was looking at him. He coughed nervously and sat back down.
A silence followed. "Out of line, I was, Rozzer," Blackwell said, breaking it.
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Rez clapped the bodyguard's shoulder, releasing him. "Stressed. I know." Rez
smiled. "Kuwayama?
The platform?"
"Had his own team there,"
"And our crashers?"
"That's a bit odd," Blackwell said, "Kombinat, Rez. Say we've stolen something
of theirs. Or at least that's all the one I questioned knew."
Rez looked puzzled, but seemed to put whatever it was out of his mind. "Take
me back to the hotel," he said.
Blackwell checked his huge steel watch. "We're still sweeping, there. Another
twenty minutes and
I'll check with them."
Laney took this as his opportunity, standing up and stepping past Blackwell to
the door. "I'm going to take a hot shower," he said. "Cracked my ribs up
there." No one said anything. "Call if you need me." Then he opened the door,
stepped out, closed it behind him, and limped in what he hoped was the
direction of the elevator.
It was. In it, he leaned against the mirrored wall and touched the button for
his floor.
It said something in a soothing tone, Japanese.
The door closed. He shut his eyes.
He opened his eyes as the door opened. Stepped out, turned the wrong way, then
the right way.
Fishing for his wallet, where he'd put his key. Still there. Bath, hot shower,
these concepts more theoretical as he approached his room. Sleep. That was it.
Undress and lie down and not be conscious.
He swiped the key down the slot. Nothing. Again. Click.
Kathy Torrance, sitting on the edge of his bed. She smiled at him. Pointed at
the moving figures on the screen. One of whom was Laney, naked, with a larger
erection than he recalled ever having had. 3
205
The girl vaguely familiar, but whoever she was, he didn't remember doing that
with het
"Don't just stand there," Kathy said. "You have to see this."
"That's not me," Laney said.
"I know," she said, delighted. "He's way too big. And I'd love to see you try
to prove it."
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Chia worked the tips back on, regoggled, let Masahiko take her co his room.
That same instant transition, the virtual Venice icon strobing. . . . Gomi Boy
was there, and someone else, though at first she couldn't see him. Just this
glass tumbler on the work-surface that hadn't been there before, mapped to a
higher resolution than the rest of the room: filthy, chipped at the rim,
something crusted at the bottom.
"That woman," Gomi Boy began, but someone coughed. A strange dry rattle.
"You are an interesting young woman," said a voice unlike any Chia had heard,
a weird, attenuated rasp that might have been compiled from a library of
faint, dry, random sounds. So that a word's long vowel might be wires in the
wind, or the click of a consonant the rattle of a dead leaf against a window.
"Young woman," it said again, and then there was something indescribable,
which she guessed was meant as laughter.
"This is the Etruscan," Masahiko said. "The Etruscan accessed your father's
expense account for us. He is most skilled."
Something there for a second. Skull-like. Above the dirty glass. The mouth
drawn and petulant. "It was nothing, really.
She told herself it was all presentation. Like when Zona presented, you could
never quite focus on her. This was like that, but more extreme. And a lot of
work put into the audio. But she didn't
I
like it. 0
C
207
30. The Etruscan
"You brought me here to meet him?" she asked Masahiko.
"Oh, no," said the Etruscan, the Oh a polyphonic chorale, "I just wanted a
look, dear." The thing like laughter.
"The woman," Gomi Boy said. "Did you arrange for her to meet you, at Hotel
Di?"
"No," Chia said. "She checked the taxi cabs, so you aren't as smart as you
think."
"Well put." The p#: the sound of a single pebble falling into a dry marble
fountain. Chia focused on the glass. A huge centipede lay curled at its
bottom, a thing the color of dead cuticle. She saw that it had tiny, pink
hands- The glass was gone. "Sorry," Masahiko said. "He wished only to meet
you."
"Who is the woman in Hotel Di?" Gomi Boy's anime eyes were bright and eager,
but his tone was hard.
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"Maryalice," Chia said. "Her boyfriend's with those Russians. The thing
they're after's in my bag there."
"What thing?" "Maryalice says it's a nano-assembler." "Unlikely," Gomi Boy
said, "Tell it to the
Russians." "But you have contraband? In the room?" "I've got something they
want." Gomi Boy grimaced, vanished. "Where'd he go?"
"This changes the situation," Masahiko said. "You did not tell us you have
contraband."
"You didn't ask! You didn't ask why they were looking for me.
Masahiko shrugged, calm as ever. "We were not certain that it was you they
were interested in. The
Kombinat would be very eager for the skills of someone like the Etruscan, for
instance. Many people know of Hak Nam, but few know how to enter. We reacted
to protect the integrity of the city."
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208 William Gibson
"But your computer's in the hotel room. They can just come there and get it."
"It no longer matters," he said. "I am no longer engaged in processing. My
duties are assumed by others. Gomi Boy is concerned now for his safety
outside, you understand? Penalties for possession of contraband are harsh. He
is particularly vulnerable, because he deals in second-hand equipment."
"I don't think it's the police you want to worry about, right now. I think we
want to call the police. Maryalice says those Russians'll kill us, if they
find us."
"The police would not be a good idea. The Etruscan has accessed your father's
account in
Singapore. That is a crime."
"I think I'd rather get arrested than killed."
Masahiko considered that. "Come with me," he said. "Your visitor is waiting."
"Not the centipede," Chia said. "Forget it."
"No," he said, "not the Etruscan. Come." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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