stupid, so be it, but it s a mistake. It would be a lot easier for you if you
were to tell me exactly why you re here.
Jack sighed. I m here to see my niece. I m visiting. That s all.
Aire blinked and seemed to be digesting that, as if the answer had taken him
by surprise. And what s that got to do with the University of Balance City?
It was Jack s turn to digest. He had been right. That feeling of being
watched&
She s studying there.
Aire narrowed his eyes. We can check, you know.
Jack nodded slowly. Check away.
You know, Mr. Stein, as soon as you arrived on Utrecht, several flags went
up. We were immediately aware of your presence. I would be very careful if I
were you. Wewill be watching.
Who the hell arewe?
Aire turned away again. That doesn t matter. I think we are done here. For
now. But I expect we might see each other again. It would be wise not to
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meddle in things that don t concern you.
Jack frowned and stood, biting back a reply.
Aire didn t bother to turn around as Jack left, escorted by the green suit
who had been waiting patiently at the staircase bottom.
All the way back up to his hotel and it was a long way back up to the
surface Jack was running the encounter through his head. He didn t know who
the hell this Maximilian Aire was, but he was clearly someone with resources
at his disposal. Someone who was used to dishing out orders as well. Had he
made a mistake mentioning Billie? Okay, that could wait. The real issue was
that whoeverthey were, they knew exactly where Jack was, whether or not they
knew precisely what he was doing. That level of interest was strange. Who was
Jack Stein to them? The other strange thing was that his extended sense had
given him absolutely nothing on Aire. Not a shred. If this guy was important,
Jack should have felt something. Weird. Weird, and more than a little
unsettling.
He was almost stumbling by the time he got to his room. Never had a hotel bed
looked so inviting. He barely had the energy to strip off his coat and remove
his shoes before collapsing on the bed. Maximilian Aire and his green-suited
lackeys could wait.
Jack was on a ship. It felt like a ship. It smelled like a ship. That vague
odor of oiled machinery and something else& plastic. Old air, as well. Old air
touched with the taste of stale humanity. He sniffed at himself, the front of
his top, his armpits. No, it wasn t him. He got up off his bunk and looked for
a viewport, something to see were he was, but the room cabin gave him nothing
but metal walls. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to force himself
to full wakefulness.
Jack, aren t you coming? Billie had stuck her head through the door. She
looked like she d been awake for hours, and she had that expression of
disapproval on her face she always got when Jack wasn t doing what she thought
he should be.
She stepped half into the cabin. Propped on one hip she held a large rifle.
She cocked it and stepped back out. Come on, Jack.
He turned to check that he hadn t forgotten anything and then went to follow.
The door was gone.
That was strange.
He pressed his hands against the flat metal wall, looking for the door.
Somewhere in the distance, muffled, he could just make out the sound of
Billie s voice. Come on, Jack! What are you waiting for?
I don t know, he muttered, searching for the mysteriously vanishing door.
He looked down, wondering what had happened to the floor. He was standing on
nothing, suspended, and below him water, dark water, moving with a low swell,
stirred. Something pale slipped past in the depths, a vague shadow, and he
looked away.
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There was another smell now. A smell of& cactus? Succulent and green. How did
he know what cactus smelled like?
Dog McCreedy stuck his head through the wall, looking at him with an
impatient frown, then withdrew. The dark strands of his hair took longer to
vanish, trailing after the disappearing face as if stuck within the substance
of the wall. He watched them in slow motion, thin snakes of hair.
He sensed movement below him too, and looked down. The pale blur stirring in
the water moved back into view, becoming more distinct. It was human. He could
see that much now. It was a man s shape. One pallid arm reached up, breaking
the oily dark surface, and beckoned to him. Come, Jack. Come here.
Dammit! I m coming, he said to the wavering shape.
Pain worked up his neck and across one shoulder. The thick taste of bad sleep
made his mouth feel like it was full of dirty old feathers, and he worked his
eyes open with difficulty. Shreds of the dream were already starting to fade.
He lifted himself upright and winced as the action turned his head and shot a
new arrow of hurt across his shoulders. Damned unfamiliar beds. He growled and
gritted his teeth. He felt like crap, and he was still in his clothes. There
was some sort of smell. This time he sniffed, and the smell was Jack Stein, or
Jack Stein s clothes, slept in, worn too long and abused, nothing like cactus.
God he hated mornings, especially mornings like this. Dammit, he didn t even
know if it was morning. He sat up on the bed, trying to get his thoughts
straight, and glanced at the time display. Yeah, it was morning. With a groan
he levered himself upright and swung his legs off the bed, taking another
couple of seconds to sniff heavily. His head felt full. Great.
Last night s events started coming back to him, including an image of
Maximilian Aire s fleshy features, big, round, and dark in his mind s eye. No,
though he tested it, there was nothing familiar about the man. Nothing at all.
Sometimes a dream might give it to him. He shook his head. So what had that
all been about?
Dammit, he needed coffee. Badly. He looked at the display again and did a
rough calculation in his head. Allowing time for getting down to Algol, he
still had a couple of hours before he had to leave to meet McCreedy. It was
probably just as well.
Stripping off his clothes, he stumbled more than padded into the bathroom and
emptied his bladder, closing his eyes and trying to work some of the stiffness
out of his neck. He spent a couple of fruitless minutes searching for
coffeemaking facilities, then remembered, growled at the room in general, and
stepped into the shower, thinking about how much his life had changed over the
past few years. Mainly because of Billie. Maybe coffee would do something to
ease his mood. That last thought was almost enough to make the prospect of the
breakfast buffet semitolerable. Almost.
Jack headed straight out from breakfast, his handipad and the map already
shoved in his coat pocket. The muscle at Aire s place had been kind enough to
return his things, at least. He thought he could find his way back to Farley s [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]