Part 38 (1/2)

”There was a LAN cable bodged into it. I pretended to be there for a job interview. When I had the chance, I plugged it, un.o.bserved, into the first available LAN socket. Any one would do. The Taser was in my purse. Gave it a click. Just the one.”

”What happened?”

”It punched out their entire system. All of it. Erased everything. Even the parts in other buildings. Then I wiped it for prints, binned it, and left.”

”That was because they'd taken something?”

She shrugged. ”He called it a lobotomy.”

”Clean,” announced Voytek glumly, carrying out two of his cases. They weren't heavy at all, Milgrim now knew, because he'd seen that they mainly contained black foam padding. Voytek set them down and returned for the other two.

”When is he coming?” asked Milgrim.

”Not expecting him,” she said. ”He just wants you in a safe place.”

”He's not coming?”

”We're just killing time,” she said, and smiled. She wasn't someone who smiled often, but when she did, he found, it seemed as though it meant something. ”I'll teach you how to work the balloons. I'm getting really good.”

59. THE ART OF THE THING

After a mutual exchange of various telephone numbers, both written down and entered in phones, Bigend left.

Garreth had also insisted on establis.h.i.+ng codes, by which either could indicate that he was speaking under duress, or that he believed the conversation was being somehow surveilled. Hollis, discovering that she was actually very hungry, took advantage of this to catch up on her breakfast. Garreth began to write in his notebook, in what was either shorthand or his impossible handwriting, she'd never been sure.

”Do you really think he'd honor that agreement, if you were able to do whatever it is you intend to do?” she asked as he capped his pen.

”Initially. I imagine he'd then manage to start to see that he'd really made a different agreement, and that any subsequent misunderstanding is ours alone. But then it would become a matter of reminding him, and at the same time reminding him exactly how his little difficulty had been tidied. Quite a lot of this, and why it needs to be very good indeed, is the need to impress Bigend with the idea that he wouldn't want anything like it to ever happen to him him. Without ever uttering anything like a threat, mind you, for which reason I would hope that you'd put your man at the Guardian Guardian back in the box. If he's the one I think you mean, he makes me want to believe that global warming isn't androgenic, just to spite him.” back in the box. If he's the one I think you mean, he makes me want to believe that global warming isn't androgenic, just to spite him.”

”Where's your eccentric mentor in this?”

”He'll be in the background, if he's to be involved at all, and I'm glad of it. He was happier during the previous administration in the United States. Easier to be around.”

”He was?”

”Less free-floating ambiguity then. I'll need his permission to use the material we prepared for that other exploit. But Gracie seems a perfect match for his targeting mechanism, as he has a peculiar detestation for war profiteers. Who are certainly no less abundant now than they used to be, though generally a bit less flagrant. I'll also need him to hook me up with Charlie. Sweet old boy in Birmingham. Gurkha.”

”Gurkha?”

”Perfect dear. Love him to bits.”

”f.u.c.k me, it's the prodigal skydiver.”

Hollis swung around at Heidi's voice, and found her there, in the gap between the screens, Ajay peering around her shoulder.

”What's this?” Heidi pushed at the mahogany frame of one of the screens, causing the whole thing to wobble alarmingly. ”Planning on having it off right here?”

Garreth smiled. ”h.e.l.lo, Heidi.”

”Heard you were well and truly f.u.c.ked,” said Heidi. She was wearing gray sweats, under her majorette jacket. ”Look about the same, to me.”

”What did Milgrim do last night?” Hollis asked. ”Bigend says he hurt someone.”

”Milgrim? Couldn't hurt himself, if he had to. f.u.c.ker from that car was behind us. I'd known it for blocks.” She raised her hand and made a concise little dart-throwing gesture. ”Rhenium. Screamed like a b.i.t.c.h.”

”A great honor,” said Ajay, from behind Heidi, his eyes wide with excitement. Heidi put her arm around him, shoved him forward.

”Ajay,” said Heidi. ”Fastest sparring partner I've ever had. We went over to Hackney this morning and beat the living s.h.i.+t out of each other.”

”h.e.l.lo, Ajay,” said Garreth, offering his hand.

”Can't believe this, really,” said Ajay, pumping Garreth's hand. ”Blinding, to see you're not as badly off as we'd heard. Download all your videos. Fantastic.” Hollis half expected him to ask for an autograph, his waterfall bobbing with excited delight.

”What flavor, the sparring?” asked Garreth.

”Bit of everything, really,” said Ajay, modestly.

”Really,” said Garreth. ”We should talk. As it happens, I need someone fast, in just that way.”

”Well, then,” said Ajay, running his hand through his waterfall. ”Well, then.” Like a child who'd just been told, in July, that it was actually, now, officially, absolutely, Christmas morning.

”You aren't sorry you didn't quit before the s.h.i.+t hit?” Heidi asked. They were back in her room, where Hollis saw that the Breast Chaser had been partially painted, though wasn't yet under construction. There was a faint smell of aerosol enamel.

Hollis shook her head.

Ajay was pacing excitedly by the window.

”Calm the f.u.c.k down,” Heidi snapped at him. ”Elvis isn't leaving the building. Get used to it.” Garreth had asked to be taken to Number Four, in order to make some calls and use his laptop. To get him there, in the chair, they'd had to go along a hallway, to the rear of the building, and take a service elevator that Hollis had never seen before. Utterly devoid of Tesla charm, being German, nearly silent, and highly efficient, it got them to their floor quickly, but then Hollis became confused about the route to the room. The hallways were mazelike. Garreth, however, had remembered the way exactly.

”So who are these people, supposed to be f.u.c.king with us?” asked Heidi. ”The dips.h.i.+t with the bandage. How scary is that that?”

”He's a clothing designer,” said Hollis.

”If they aren't all p.u.s.s.ies,” said Heidi, ”who is?”

”It's the man he works for,” Hollis said. ”A retired Special Forces major named Gracie.”

”Gracie? What about f.u.c.king Mabel Mabel? You're totally making this s.h.i.+t up, aren't you?”

”It's his last name. And Garreth's last name, while I remember, is now 'Wilson.' That was what he told Bigend it was at breakfast. Gracie's an arms dealer. Bigend was spying on some business of his, in South Carolina. Well, Milgrim was, on his orders. In the process of that, Oliver Sleight, who you met in Vancouver but probably don't remember, Bigend's IT security specialist, defected to Gracie-”