Digital Plague

I flared my nostrils and leaned forward to slap him lightly across the face, not hard enough to hurt. “Eyes on me, Reg,” I said easily, stepping back. “Eyes on me.”

He blinked and gave me a piggy little stare. “Fuck you, Avery. This is a bad time. You’re not popular with certain people, you know, and the Optical Facial Sca

I ignored this, pushing my hands into my pockets. “I need info on Newark, Reg. I took a little involuntary trip out there recently and I want to know who’s got fingers in that trash heap, who’s carting shit out there or from there, who’s bribing you to let it happen.”

He tried to lean back casually, lacing his hands behind his head, but his girth pushed his belly into his desk and made him grunt in discomfort. I noticed his cigarette was nearly all ash and watched in fascination, waiting for it to shake off. “I just told you, Avery, this isn’t a good time.”

I glanced at Glee, who looked back at me and shrugged. For a second I was aware of how grown-up and poised she’d become, apparently overnight. I looked back at Reg with my grin in place, calibrated to convey amusement. This fat piece of shit thought he was in charge. I realized I could smell him, Reg’s brand of sour sweat too much for scrubbers.

“Reggie, let’s be friendly. Let’s have a conversation, and when we’re done you say, Ave, this one’s on the house, on account of I was a fucking asshole when you showed up. And then I say, Shit, Reggie, I surprised you, so maybe you weren’t in top form, and we part friends. Okay?”

He kept trying like hell to look relaxed even though it was obvious he was straining to hold his position. “Get out. What are you going to do, slap me again? You’re unarmed, Avery. You didn’t get through rooftop security with a gun.” He raised his eyebrows. “You think stories about you scare me. Fuck off.”

He was right, I didn’t have a gun. Getting past security in a building containing even a pissant government agency could be done-anything could be done-but it was troublesome, and u

“Glee,” I said. She took a half step forward and snapped her arm out stiffly, a homemade bone blade leaping into her hand. I had a similar one in my boot. With practiced ease she whipped it across his face, producing a tiny red wound on the tip of his bulbous nose. She gri

“Ear to ear, fat man,” she said, coughing wetly. “If Avery says so.”

Reggie quivered, his loose skin rippling u

I shrugged. “You’ve got ten seconds, Reggie, and we’re go

Next to me, Glee sighed softly, an excited, feminine sound. Reggie stared at her for a moment and then seemed to deflate like he was undergoing his fat-sucking process as we watched. “Fucking hell. You’re still go

“Reggie,” I said, leaning forward and pulling my portable shell cube from one pocket, “we’re just going to have to think on that.”

Glum now, he accepted the cube and slid it into his desk unit, hands working deftly. Glee stepped back and leaned against the wall, a coughing fit racking her.

“Okay, okay,” Reggie muttered, all business now, his thick-fingered hands moving quickly, his screen flashing through records. “Newark. Nothing officially in Newark, of course, so there won’t be any front-line records-nothing so easy, eh?” He gri

I shrugged. “I’ve got time.”

He nodded, sweat appearing on his brow. Behind me, Gleason had recovered and was completely silent, chewing her hair like she was ten again. For a few seconds there was no sound whatsoever, and I watched the smoke from Reggie’s cigarette rising thinly from his mouth. When the red box appeared in the lower corner of his screen, I saw it immediately and tried to read the backwards text printed in it.

“Oh, shit,” Reggie said just before the building shell cut in around us, a ridiculously soft-spoken artificial voice.

“Attention: By order of the Department of Public Health, New York Department, under Joint Council Resolution Eight-eight-nine-a, this building has been sealed. Please remain in your current location. Attention…”

It was strange to hear Joint Council in every a

I glanced back at Glee, who had gone still, one end of her hair still in her mouth, her off-white blade perched under one fingernail. Her nose was ru

He smiled at me, but it was such a cadaverous and hollow grin I chose not to be offended. “Shit, Avery,” he said, sagging in his chair. “We’re going to wish it was fucking cops.”

III

Day Three: Good Luck with the Folks from Public Health

Making an effort to keep my adrenaline under control, I studied Reggie’s face for a second or two and concluded that I saw real fear there, but whether it was because he was caught breaking some laws or because he was afraid I was about to have Gleason slit his throat, I couldn’t tell. “Who’s coming, then?”

“Aren’t you listening? Public Health.” His piggy little eyes danced on me and he reached up to take the last stub of cigarette from his mouth and toss it onto the floor. “But it doesn’t matter what fucking department. It means Spooks, Avery. Psionics. The fucking Spooks have sealed the building. Oh, fuck me.”

I turned and nodded at Glee. She turned and tried the door, but it didn’t respond.

“It won’t open,” Reggie almost wailed. “The building’s been sealed. Oh, fuck you, you fucking piece of trash. I’m fucking ruined.”

I turned back to Reggie and pointed at the door.

“Open it up, Reg,” I said.

He shrugged, a massive fleshquake that went on and on. “I can’t, Avery-the building’s sealed.”

I nodded. I had a suspicion this would turn out to be System Pigs no matter what the shell a