Metak Fatigue Part 11

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9,,!,! leaned forward; a virtual light source cast shadows in his eye-sockets.

"I've called to give you it, Phil. You may be in deeper trouble than you Roads drew a deep, smoky breath. "In what way?" "You've stepped on someone's toes, Phil - heavily . 1, for them to want you dead."

66W )".

ho. "I can't tell you." "Why?), "I can't tell you that either." "Then what can you tell me?" "That there's a price on your head. A big one. It went os- the market fifteen minutes ago."

Roads scratched absently at the stubble on his chin, trying to think who might want to kill him that wasn't able to do so themselves. Not the Mole, or Cati; he wasnit a match for either of them, and he was sure they knew it. It had to be someone else, someone who wanted to keep his or her hands relatively clean of @,Roads' death.



Someone he was obviously getting close to, without knowing it.

He smiled. "Thanks, Keith. That's the best news I've had all day." "I'm glad you think so." The Head leaned back. "Can I a.s.sume, then, that the information I gave you the other night has been of use?" "I think you can, yes. Is there anything you'd like to add?" "Nothing that appears to be relevant. Someone vandalised one of the old buildings at the harbour last night, but I can't see how that would connect with your investigation. We get a lot of that sort of thing down our way. An occupational hazard, if you will."Roads nodded, remembering the article he had read about the disturbance. The harbour - being a meeting place for all manner of criminals, from drug-addict to bounty-hunter - was often transformed into a battlefield for rival interests. Morrow's main role was as mediator, not instigator. The relative stability of Kennedy as a whole owed more than a little to the paths of communication the Head established and maintained in the undercla.s.s. This, Roads supposed, was why the Head would not reveal the ident.i.ty of his would-be killer: thief's honour, or something similar.

A thought struck him: "What about Barney?" "Your friend is safe. The contract is only for'you." "Good. Let me know if anything else turns up, won't you? "

"I will if I can." Morrow winked farewell. "Good luck." "Thanks.

Roads extinguished the cigarette and reached for a pain-killer. It was all very well knowing he was close, but, without knowing what he was close to, it didn't really help. Was it DeKurzak's Old Guard, the Mayor's machinating RUSA, or someone else entirely? And how did they relate to the Mole/Cati dyad?

The matter of the contract itself did not greatly concern him; it would probably be a while before someone took the offer, and he could look after himself when the time came. He hoped. It was just not knowing who was behind it that bothered him.

He took Morrow's data fiche and added it to the official RSD file on the Mole, then sent the whole package to Barney. Barely had he completed that task when his terminal buzzed again.

This time it was Margaret Chappel. She looked frustrated and tired, as though she hadn't slept since the before Blindeye - which, he supposed, she hadn't.

you feeling, Phil?" v siv- are I a little sore." He tossed the tablet idly in one The pain was returning, but nowhere near as o. as it had been earlier. "Looks like I'll live." @'Good. Any progress?" It.- hesitated, then told her about Morrow's warning.

e shook her head, half-smiling. "And you take that positive sign?"

71,"ItIS the best I've had so far." "Fair enough. Have you written a report?" "Not yet, no." "Then, without intending to seem callous, let me vkv*[email protected] you not to waste your time. David's will be if DeKurzak's corroborates it." lie let the advice sink in for a moment before "That bad, huh?" Let's just say I'm doing the best I can to slow things "How long do you think)" "I may be able'to stretch it until after Rea.s.similation, but I doubt it. It depends entirely on what sort of report DeKurzak submits. "In that case, maybe it won't be so bad after all."

She looked surprised. -That's not what I expected you to say. 55 "I saw him this afternoon. He said he'd tell the Mayor it's not my fault Blindeye went so wrong." "Well, well. That is interesting. I'll only believe it when I see it, though." "I lo= q9711rie underestimating him, Margaret. He's in a difficult position, stuck between the RSD and MSA, but he's genuinely trying to do his job - a job he didn't really want in the first place.""Did he say that?" Chappel's eyebrows went up. "Don't let him fool you, Phil.

He campaigned quite vigorously to get this a.s.signment."

Roads mulled this over. "That's not the impression I got. Anyway, bad luck happens to everyone. Even me. No-one will deny that I'm one of the best officers in RSD." "But what happens when he finds out why you're so good?"

"You and I both know that's irrelevant. I do my best, like anybody else." "The Mayor might not see it that way." "Then he's an idiot." "And you're in trouble." "I know." Roads tried to look nonchalant. "Listen, Margaret, I'm already in trouble. The Mayor wants my a.r.s.e because Blindeye f.u.c.ked up; somebody else wants my a.r.s.e because I'm getting close to the Mole; if DeKurzak wants my a.r.s.e too, then he'll just have to join the queue."

Chappel smiled. "You have a point." "Yes, but what I don't have is time. I'll have to call you back later." "Or I'll call you when word comes down from above." "Fingers crossed I'll get in first."

He cut the line and reached into the drawer for the bottle of water. His palms were sweating profusely, and the urge for sugar was back. "Marion? Can you do me a favour?" "What would you like?" "Two muesli bars and a sandwich from the cafeteria. I don't care what sort. And another cup of coffee, if there's any left." "Coming right up."

2X MMw a million."

A lied up another blank notepad and drew a T- ca diagram, more complex than the previous one.

Mole was the focus of one side, Roads of the other.

e ach of these were contributing parties: Cati and 1' the person or persons behind the contract for his RSD, the Mayoralty, the MSA and Keith Morrow. -01., was just trying to decide where to put the VVISI.: when there was a knock at the door. "Coming, Marion."

ri; cleared the screen and went to the door. His chest '[email protected] less stiff than before, but still tender; he gave U another three hours before a semblance of Mi-Prost returne He opened the door and performed a quick doub e- then waved his visitor inside. "Hi, Martin. You're not the person I expected."

"I gd1hered." The RUSAMC captain - who, like .. # else in HQ that day, looked the worse for Mlk. of sleep - put a heavily-loaded tray on the desk and distributed its contents: two ma.s.s-produced grain I'@nacks, a sandwich and a cup of coffee for Roads, plus '@::,another sandwich and coffee for him. "Your secretary L me to bring you these, seeing I was on my Way." "Much appreciated." Roads opened one of the bars and took a bite. "You got my message?" "I did, yes, but I was tied up In a teleconference with my superiors." "Checking up on you, huh?" "Not really. More the other way around." O'Dell frowned and changed the subject. "You're Restiml, reasonably well, considering."

Roads gestured dismissively. "Just a couple of scratches. " "Oh? I heard you broke some ribs."

IR;"You know how doctors exaggerate." He threw the spent wrapper into the bin. "I have some questions to ask you, Martin, and I'm a little short on time. If you don't mind, I'd like to get them over and, done with." "Shoot." O'Dell concealed his apprehension well. Roads wondered what the captain was expecting him to ask. "First of all, exactly how far ahead of us is the Reunited States of America Military. Corps?" "Uh ... Can I plead ignorance?" "If that means you can't tell me because of some security bulls.h.i.+t, then that's fair enough.

just let me speculate for a moment, then you can tell me whether I'm wrong or not."

O'Dell looked uncertain. "Sure, go ahead. But I can't promise anything, understand." "Of course." Roads folded his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. O'Dell had already demonstrated that the RUSAMC was more advanced than Kennedy Polis; the question was bow advanced, exactly. "There's a rumour I remember hearing, shortly before the end of the War, and it keeps nagging at me now." "What's that?" "I was told that the entire War Room had packed up and moved to a shelter somewhere under the Appalachians to wait out the worst of the fighting. Certainly, no-one I know of ever heard of them after about 2050. 1 can't help wondering if there's some connection between that shelter and the Reunited States." "Are you suggesting that we and the USA are one and the same? That the bra.s.s from the old days have emerged from the bunkers to reconquer the continent under a new flag?"

186.

"I would have phrased it a little more subtly, but yes.

[email protected] What I'm wondering." "It's a good theory, but you're wrong. Sorry. The @),F** never made it out." Roads noted the carefully-worded sentence. "But else eventually broke in, right?" O'Dell smiled. "Maybe." "'Maybe.'" Roads nodded. By the rules of this game, .r., inferred yes. "So the Reunited States Military sy has access to all the military secrets up to and fg the end of the War." O'Dell said nothing, but his smile didn't waver.

"One more question, then: among the old plans and projects, was there a reference to a practical form of invisibility? Some sort of advanced camouflage unit, s7roW' Anything at all along those lines?" The smile flickered, fell. "That one I can answer, Phil. There wasn't anything like that in the old files. Not even a hint.' "You're absolutely sure?" "Positive. I've studied them myself.

But you didn't hear me admit that, okay?" "Of course, but ... Oh, d.a.m.n." He hit the desktop with the palm of one hand, then winced as the impact rattled his rib cage. "I was really hoping there might have been." "I can guess why."

O'Dell took a mouthful of coffee. "W11=11MI '41sq, that we might be involved with the Mole, or vice versa, right?" "Partly, yes. The other possibility is that a faction from up your way managed to get hold of the plans. The technology, the timber wolf - it all points to a northern source. 51 "Not a bad thought. I might have had it too, if I was in your shoes - and it's not as if we don't have dissidentgroups in the Reunited States. But you have to ask yourself why anybody would go to such lengths to invade Kennedy. This city may seem a big deal to those who live in it, but it's small fry in the context of the rest of the continent. Why should we bother reducing ourselves to stealing data from here when there are other places practically begging to let us in?" "Because Kennedy is a symbol." Roads put his elbows on the desk and leaned forward.

Again he received the impression that O'Dell was guiding him toward an answer.

"It's all that remains of the old world." "A world that almost killed itself"

"Yes, but a symbol nonetheless. We may have regressed as many years as we've survived, but we're still here. And that's what counts." He shrugged. "We'd make a good regional capital, if nothing else." "And you will, if General Stedman has his way." O'Dell finished his coffee with a gulp. "But it takes more than sullen independence to attract the attention of a vibrant nation like ours." "Point taken." Roads stood and went to lean on the window-sill.

"We've not been a good neighbour over the years." "True. The people around here - and there are people, some as close as fifty kilometres - generally keep their distance. I met some of them on the way through, heard the stories about the bad days: how four hundred thousand people starved on Kennedy's doorstep because the Mayor wouldn't open the Gate; how an yone trying to get in is caught and shot on sight; how repeated pleas for resources were ignored back in the 50s, resulting in the collapse of at least three struggling communities." "All true, I'm afraid," Roads said. "The city could only produce enough to support so many people. If the 'A. 10 had let -iren more people in than he did, or the i4zisimws around, the city would have died as The - RR", I wasn't simple, but the equation was." S, NOU-1y neARTst "I understand. But how about this: U V you know Mt Kennedy kidnapped people to use in gangs vislen it built the Wall? Or that birth 'Mthat illegally-born children are killed is so used, along -with criminals and other misfits, to 4 k1i; the R Ms"? Or that secret MSA death squads MI, raid wighbouring communities to steal and etigLi- women?" Roads kept his -xpression neutral. "No." "Exactly. But @our neighbours think you've done it and istsue besides. That's what comes of not being *imi M.;,d and insular, but surviving as well; I;; begin to --.vsk questions, and the answers aren't tAk What you'il like." O'Dell raised his hands, palms VTV Wle. "Hey, t'n as guilty of that as anyone. All my R6 I've been no Falstories about a city that survived the War intact: a city lull of berserkers who eat human flesh.

used to lie at night for hours when I was a kid jerrified of IT "I.- trapped in there, unable to escape: ,with all sorts of flemonic creatures hunting me down. So, when I first'M-rned that such a city does exist, and that it does isis-w3s technology from the old days that n.o.body else has any more, well, what else was I supposed to MMI @F Roads did :issil& at that. "It must come as a relief to learn that we're not so well off these days." "I wouldn't say that. Your reactor facility is something I'd love to get my hands on, for instance. And the bacteria cultures lost during the fighting that we're not allowed to breed any more." Noting Roads' sharp look, O'Dell added: "Peacefully, of course. None of it's worth invading over.""Good." Roads returned to his seat, thinking over what O'Dell had told him. He too had heard rumours of atrocities in the bad days. Whether they were true or not would probably never be known, but he didn't have the confidence to deny them categorically. Such actions would have been typical of the time, when humanity's decline was at its lowest point. And even if Kennedy was guilty of such crimes, that didn't automatically make its neighbours saints.

O'Dell leaned forward to put his sandwich wrapper in the bin. "Well, that's lunch," he said. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?" "Yes." Roads folded his hands across his lap and collected his thoughts. "For a favour, actually." "Go ahead. Anything I can give you, you're welcome to it." "All I want is information: everything you brought with you. Not just the old MIA records, but the rest as well." He looked at O'Dell closely. "You did bring more, didn't you?" "Sure, but I may not be able to give you everything."

"Whatever you can spare, then. I'll take anything. In return, I'll give you a copy of my own private notes. You might find them useful." "I'm sure I will."

O'Dell looked tired for a moment, as though Roads had touched upon his own problems. "My superiors are anxious to study your progress." "Really? Given what you've just told me, I'd have thought they'd be more interested in -"

He stopped in mid-sentence and stared off into s.p.a.ce. "Phil?"

the killer." He blinked and returned to O'Dell. "Sorry, Martin. You know how it is: you get so involved in a case you forget what's going on around it. I just remembered something that might be important."

..,"The a.s.sa.s.sin? I thought he and the Mole were separate. 'Maybe." The price on his head suddenly seemed Rrsu;, Man just a trifle to leave until later. "But I've got a feeling I might be seeing him in the future." O'Dell looked puzzled. "I don't understand." Roads glanced at his watch and then at the window; si;@ sky was darkening. "Let's leave it there. I have work do." "And I have another call home to make." O'Dell and Roads showed him to the door. "The wife?" "No, work again. But I'll get that information M= I to you first." "Thanks, Martin. I appreciate your help."

"My pleasure. That's what I'm here for, after all." As soon as O'Dell had left, Roads called up the he had been working on and added two more the killer and the RUSAMC, both in the no- Mt between Roads and the Mole. If there was a 11 between either one and any other party, then he needed more evidence to see it clearly.

Reaching for the intercom, he dialled Roger Wiggs' office number. Instead of the red-haired officer, he was put through to a junior a.s.sistant, who told him that Wiggs was tied up elsewhere in the building. "He's certainly keeping busy," Roads commented, trying not to let frustration show in his voice. It had been several days since he and his offsider in homicide -had last swapped data; he needed to know what Wiggs had found, if anything, before the killer came calling. "It's that new guy," explained the a.s.sistant. "DeKurzak. He's had us profiling all the same old antiRea.s.similation spokespersons, plus anyone in RSD and 0TWOOT"Looking for the Old Guard?" "Like you wouldn't believe." The a.s.sistant sighed wearily. "I'll say one thing about him, though: if the Old Guard does exist, he's the one who'll find it." "And if it doesn't exist?" "Then maybe he'll find it anyway, if you know what I mean. Wiggs' a.s.sistant chuckled to herself.

"When Roger gets in, I'll tell him you called. Any message)",, "No. just tell him to be in touch." "Will do. And good luck at your end, too." "Thanks. We all need it."

Roads settled back to study his flow-chart for any new inspiration. There were possibilities in abundance everywhere he looked, but few certainties. The more he looked at the few shreds of evidence he possessed, the less likely it seemed that they would ever coalesce.

When he checked the mainframe half an hour later, a new icon had appeared, addressed to him: the kUSAMC data from O'Dell, still more to sift through. He sent his data in return, wondering why the RUSAMC captain had been so keen to get it - behind a suspiciously casual att.i.tude - and why he had called his superiors back after already spending most of the day talking to them. What had Roads told him without realising?

Gulping down what he swore would be his last painkiller, he opened O'Dell's file and began to skim through it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

an hour, Roads admitted defeat. The of the Reunited States currently stood at n citizens, plus nearly double that again on iw- hn.,k_ depending on the diplomatic status idual's home state. With so many people, 0 h information generated as a result, any fj;@ datapool made that of Kennedy Polis ule in comparison. ad learned some things. O'Dell's statement A had been in existence for fifty years was e Reunited States had evolved twenty-one -rom a smaller nation unified under the Accord that O'Dell had mentioned - a ad, at its peak, covered an area not much Id Pennsylvania. ve attempt during the Dissolution by the US press a civilian rebellion in Philadelphia had Le inspiration for the Accord. Roads could all too well. n rebellion that had taken control of the city R1 I .

nown they were in trouble the moment (IM-jiUM, crones from the invading force flew overhead, transmitting tactical data back to officers still kilometres away. Well before the first and final call tosurrender was broadcast by a second wave of drones, they would have resigned themselves to a b.l.o.o.d.y fight to the death. The rebellion - led by little more than an expanded police force, according to the files - had had no chance against the biomodified combat troops of the enemy.

The worst thing about it, in retrospect, was that in a sense there really was no enemy. That only made the decision to fight, once it had been made, all the more bitter. Knowing that you were about to be killed by your own country-folk didn't make dying any easier. If anything, it made it worse.

So when the invasion failed, that came as something of a miracle. Indeed, it seemed like a sign: if Philadelphia had been spared the fate of other recalcitrant cities, then it must have been for a reason. Certainly, the leaders of the rebellion used that as an excuse to justify the slaughter of the Army forces. And later still, when the Army was no more and the Dissolution was at its most terrible, that same excuse served to unite the region around the city. s.h.i.+elded by a buffer of relative stability maintained by organisation and force, and backed up by an incident that quickly became legendary, Philadelphia remained intact through the middle of the twenty-first century - a feat only Kennedy Polis was able to emulate.

Neighbouring regions gradually joined the Philadelphia Accord. Although conditions within the united region were unstable for the most part - except at its heart, where industry had been revived and factories operated at close to their optimal productivity - local governments and people so long isolated joined the movement gladly. The only true weapon against chaos was order, and anything capable of delivering that order was welcomed with open arms.

When the member states voted overwhelmingly to replace the Philadelphia Accord with a new, national "Mmi1eit', based loosely on the old - and to change prematurely perhaps, to the Reunited States 1-14irw - it therefore came as no surprise. And so trmo'1031 began to rise again where savagery had for over a decade: the ruins of New York, Ws and Pittsburgh were absorbed within twenty .hin thirty, it encompa.s.sed territories as far as wit 41,r- and Ontario to the north, Dakota to the west Carolina to the south.

history of the Reunited States rarely mentioned ou- nations it had encountered - and, presumably, '.MW - during its expansion. The files were clearly In favour of a peaceful interpretation of the rise the RUSA. But Roads did piece together some @11 . @too, on that score, reading inferences where t MW data was not available.

T e h RUSA was fundamentally driven by machinery Imight, so skirmishes had been frequent in the past.

and holding territory was a priority, for I lho'toisv beyond the borders were constantly Awl. Nomads, looters, small biomodified gangs - 4,141 a few surviving berserkers - had all at one time or 0ar;i besieged the walls of the developing nation. And [email protected] RUSA Military Corps' response, unlike Kennedy's, was always to attack, not to hide.

Where other states had arisen in the vacuum left by ",the old USA, some traded willingly and peacefully with the RUSA while others became rivals. All were absorbed eventually, by one means or another. Only in two cases that Roads could find was serious resistance being maintained. The first, to the north-west, was a coastal ...',alliance based around Was.h.i.+ngton and California with trade routes reaching as far inland as Wyoming. The second, to the south-west, was a New Mexican Alliance making steady inroads to the deep south. Even in thepost-War conditions of the Dissolution, it seemed that the old rivalries - between north and south, and east and west - were still strong.

There was no indication anywhere in the files of how severe the conflicts had been, or if any was currently in progress. Obviously the data had been censored to protect the RUSAMCs military secrets. But Roads did notice one thing: that on a map of the old US, Kennedy lay almost exactly between the Reunited States of America and the New Mexican Alliance. Perhaps that was enough to explain why Stedman was so keen to Rea.s.similate it. As a military outpost, it would be in the perfect location. And the technological resources the city still possessed would be an added bonus.

At that point, however, he gave up. Everything he had learned was fascinating, but it had little bearing on the case at hand. Any clues that might exist would be found in the details, and the file was simply too huge for any single person to scan alone.

He therefore required help if he was to continue his current line of investigation. Besides, he wanted to move more than just his fingertips. The pain of sitting in one position was beginning to override the need to rest.

He went down to the fourth floor, but found it deserted and dark apart from a couple of night-s.h.i.+fters, coc.o.o.ned behind part.i.tions, huddling in the protective warmth of their yellow desk lamps. RSD HQ was in limbo, caught between one day and the next. Most of the active staff were out on the streets, waiting for something to happen.

Although General Stedman's imminent arrival had eclipsed RSD's regular routine, life went on regardless. The planned parade would attract a substantial proportion of the city's population the following day - including, perhaps, some who were more than simply Both the Mole and the a.s.sa.s.sin were still out and the coming Rea.s.similation that. s part.i.tion wag dark except for the stand-by h r terminal. He wished she had told him she e home, if only so he could have wished her a Aight, bout to Ileave when A faint noise attracted 5i'Ai -,;- was a ows, to the floor behind the desk. He found her curled up on the carpet.

Although he envied her to sleep in unlikely places, he understood that it talent born more of necessity than choice.

she looked surprisingly child-like for a woman a her f r side of thirty. Her eyes were tightly shut, clenched; the smooth skin of her brow puckered f wn. Moving quietly across the room, he knelt to c4 her and brushed her cheek with his fingertips. it his touch, her eyes startled open and she flinched Then, realising it was him, she flung herself and wrapped her arms around him. .'Ohl Phil." Her voice was husky, m.u.f.fled by his 'I,"A re(Q. "Am I glad to see you." His hands caressed the solid warmth of her back and Ftr;;c, The urgency of her clasp did not fade. "A bad huh?" I dreamt you were dead." "Not me. I've got a few years left in me yet."

"But someone killed you!" "Did they?" He hoped the dream wasn't prophetic. 141 to take better care of myself, then."

4 She sniffed moistly and started to relax. Their N aw-r;@ slowly loosened. "I'm sorry," she said, reaching .nj(t her pocket for a tissue. She rubbed her eyes, glanced a at the office. "What time is it?"

"After eight. Why didn't you go home?""I was waiting for you to finish." "You didn't have to, Barney. You've done your fair share of work for today." "I know, and yesterday too." She smiled fleetingly. "It's silly. All this werewolf business has me spooked. I wanted you to walk me home." "I will, if it'll make you feel better," he said automatically. "But who's going to guard the guard?"

Her eyes were almost glowing in the dark as they stared into his. "Who says I want to be protected from him?"

Against his conscious will, he pulled her closer. Her arms slid around his shoulders and squeezed back. He could feel her fingers digging in, clutching at him, and he responded in kind, raising one hand to stroke her hair and neck, to tilt her head back. His body remembered what to do all too well - even if his mind rebelled ...

He couldn't let this happen. He didn't want her to be hurt when she finally learned the truth. And if he let his own feelings out, then the truth would inevitably follow.

Hating himself, he turned what should have been a kiss into just another embrace between dear friends, and held her close. "Barney," he whispered into her ear after the longest minute of his life. "You're hurting my ribs."

The pressure eased immediately. "Oh, Phil, I'm sorry. I completely forgot."

"That's okay."

Her eyes sparkled. "I promise to be more gentle in future." "I know you will."

He kissed her on the forehead; a brief peck, the most he would allow himself.

"But I have something important to do, first."

The glow of the computer seemed dazzling as he climbed to his feet and took a seat behind the desk. He 198.

the keyboard for a second while she leaned 41 F", her breath warm in his ear.

finished the list?" he asked. @_'Ams. There." She pointed at a file with a Her nails were short, but not chewed.

He took the file and sent it to the search he had set up; the semi-intelligent algorithm, a of the pre-War days, would perform the task of i4, people, sifting through megabytes of data and for meaningful connections. Then he tugged ;r;. icon for the RUSAMC data O'Dell had given What it was to Barney as he did. -re going to run the search program through she said, her eyebrows rising.

the entire Kennedy datapool as well." that'll take six hours." He turned to look at her, and mom T.

Ls met from barely a centimetre's distance. OP really are desperate, aren't you?"

she said. Absolutely. But if the search pulls just one thing I to know, then it'll have been worthwhile." He the program to call either of them at their _44 W4 ter minals when it had finished, then set it running. c- flicked off the screen, stood. "That's it. Let's get 0here." My place?" Her eyes stared directly into his, daring I fit f, to say no.

He hesitated. "If that's what you want." "Are you kidding?" She slipped into her coat and MT-71 her fringe back. "It's about b.l.o.o.d.y time, I'd say."

IoT-.- night was clear and calm, and warm despite the lack of clouds. The moon shone through the haze of the They walked side-by-side without speaking, very conscious of each other's physical presence. Roads 199was glad at first that they had been unable to take a car from the RSD pool, and therefore had to walk - although that caused him to be reminded, with a twinge not unlike deja-vu, of a time almost seventy years earlier.

The last occasion on which he had shared any form of intimacy had been on a night similar to this - except that the streets of Sydney had been crowded and betterlit. The people brus.h.i.+ng by him had been brightly- coloured and noisy, their bodies awash with technology: micromachines had invaded the cosmetic industry on every level, providing variable tattoos, clothes that changed colour or played moving images, and even instant hair; headsets, laser-firing contact lenses or implants kept information flowing at a heady pace; the infra-red beams that had replaced wires a decade ago laced the crowd like an invisible web - s.h.i.+ning neon- bright to anyone with the right eyes to see. The night had been alive, literally, with movement and celebration on so many levels that the reality of War brewing even then seemed like an incredible fantasy.

Phil Roads had been twenty-five. Then - as it did now - a persistent itch between his shoulder-blades warned him that someone was watching him.

The journey pa.s.sed all too quickly, even without taking the Rosette. On the pavement outside the entrance to Barney's apartment, Roads stopped and took her by the shoulders. She knew what he was about to say before the words had formed in his mind. "You're not coming in, are you?"

Metak Fatigue Part 11

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You're reading Metak Fatigue Part 11. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Sean Williams already has 524 views.

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