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She ignored the crude reference. “Lead on.”
The bodyguard clumped their way noisily up the carbon-concrete stairs and out onto Kingston High Street. The first four out of the station’s automatic door levelled their TIP carbines along the road, which startled the few late-night pedestrians heading home from the district’s grotty clubs. They swept their muzzles round in what they thought was a professional sca
“Clear!” the leader barked.
Ba
“No fucker’s going to sneak up on you while you’re here,” the magus said confidently. “We’ve got every approach covered. There’ll be guards outside, and in all the stairwells. Nobody gets in or out without a secure access code, which you have command authority over.”
Ba
“The fridge is full,” the magus said. “If you take a fancy to anything, just let us know and we’ll have it sent up. I can get anything you need. My grip on this town is total.”
“I’m sure,” Ba
The magus blushed heavily. Treating him like a piece of street shit in front of his acolytes would be a serious blow to his authority. She stared right at him, a silent direct challenge.
He snapped his fingers, gesturing everyone out, then stomped through the big blackwood doors without looking back.
“Dump the guns,” Ba
After a moment’s hesitation they left them beside the kitchen bar. Ba
Did I cause a big enough splash?she asked western europe.
Oh yes. The dear magus is currently screaming at London’s High Magus about how big a shit you are. All the covens will be talking about your arrival by this evening.
Evening.she shook her head irritably. I hate train lag.
Not relevant. I’ll have the little traffic-stopping scene downstairs logged on the police intelligence bulletin as well. The patrol constables will ask their informants for further information about the coven’s new activities. We’ll have the whole arcology covered. Dexter will find you.
“Shit,” Ba
“Um, High Magus,” one of the girls said anxiously. “I can’t swim.”
“Then you’d better learn fast. Hadn’t you?”
Ba
This penthouse is difficult to reach from the ground, but wide open to the sky,she observed. That means an SD strike.
Correct. I have no intention of using a nuke inside the dome. But an X-ray laser can penetrate the crystal with minimal damage. If he can survive that, then frankly there is no hope for us.
There certainly isn’t for me.
You created him.
B7 created me.
We permitted you, there’s a difference. You were convenient for us. Under our patronage you fulfilled most of your ambitions. Without us, you would now either be dead or an Ivet.
If I can take him out . . .
No. I don’t want you fighting back. He must not be made to turn invisible again. I only have one chance at this. It’s quite poetic really: the whole world’s future depending on an individual.
Poetic. Fuck, what the hell are you people?
I believe our original agreement was that B7’s patronage would be provided on a no-questions-asked basis. Despite your predicament, you still don’t qualify to ask that question, and I have no intention of indulging you. When you are dead, then you can observe me from the beyond.
Some people make it past the beyond. That’s what the Edenists claim.
Then I wish you bon voyage.
Ba
Truthful estimate, knowing the way she’d put Dexter together, no more than a week.
The acolytes were splashing about in the pool now, including the non-swimming girl clinging resolutely to the shallow end. Ba
She went back into the lounge and settled into one of the dreadful green leather couches, ready to start indexing the files. It would be amusing to see how long the acolytes stayed in the water.
The Lancini had been built at the start of the Twenty-first Century, a huge department store intended to rival London’s best: set on Millbank overlooking the Thames, it had a très chic view which along with its retro-thirties decor was calculated to bring in the affluent and curious alike. As with all outsize endeavours, its decline was never going to be swift. It had limped along for decades with falling customer numbers and negative profits. The image it attempted to foster right from the start was dignity without snobbishness. According to the market survey programs worshiped by its executives, such a policy would attract older shoppers, with their correspondingly larger credit funds. Floor managers, left with no margin for i
The execs really should have known that; if they’d just cross-linked their market surveys with the store’s own funeral service department, they would have seen just how far their customer loyalty extended. Unfortunately, it didn’t quite extend to after-burial purchasing. So 2589 saw the very last traditional January sale ending with an undignified auction to dispose of the store’s fittings. Now only the shell of the building remained.