Gridlinked

'Perhaps we should save this,' he said.

'No,' said Pelter. 'I want to know now what you have arranged.'

'OK, OK.' Stanton stepped closer and lowered his voice. He saw that Crane moved closer as well, and knew it wasn't because the android wanted to join the conversation.

'With a dropbird, life support for the six of us, and other supplies not yet detailed, Jarvellis says it'll have to be a full charter. We'll need both holds and she won't have room for any other cargoes. Also, she'll need to service the split seals on the A hold for loading and then deployment of the bird… A straight million.'

Stanton waited for Pelter to explode, but was surprised and puzzled by his reaction.

'Fine,' Pelter said, and moved on. 'We'll get rooms in the nearest metrotel while the work is being done. How long will the service take?'

'Couple of days, solstan… that's the reason for the high price, you see: a lot will go on the maintenance and bribes. They can block you if you don't pay.'

'There is no need to explain,' said Pelter as they reached the stairs to the restaurant.

Stanton let Pelter and Crane precede him. He watched the metal stairs bending under the weight of the android, then glanced back across the chaos of the drinking area. The two men and two women who came in dirough the archway were littie different from most of the rest of the clientele. They wore monofilament overalls and were shaking the rain from themselves. One woman was tall and had long black hair, and the other was a catadapt with reddish hair. The men bom appeared quite normaclass="underline" stock humanity. They were armed, as many here were. All that gave them away was the fact that they did not look in their direction, at Mr Crane. Just about every person in The Sharrow had clocked Mr Crane before turning away again. The likes of Mr Crane you did not often see. Also, the tall woman was classically beautiful and moved with uncommon grace. Stanton followed Crane and Pelter up the stairs.

At the back of the restaurant the four mercenaries were lounging in a private booth, with their attention directed toward the fight tank. Mennecken had on a virtual glove and face cup, and Dusache, sitting next to him, was laughing uproariously. But Stanton heard no sound from them until they entered the boom with its privacy field and he took a seat beside Pelter.

'Arian,' said Corlackis, 'I see you now avail yourself of more visible technology.' He studied Pelter's face for a moment, then turned his attention to Mr Crane. Crane had moved to one side of the boodi and now stood perfectly still. 'But do we really need that kind of hardware?' he finished.

'We do. Now, to business,' said Pelter.

'Let's just wait on that,' said Stanton, and watched the floating vendor that slid in dirough the field. The flat, tilick tray had small lights glinting on its edge and two grab arms folded crablike underneadi itself. It dropped until it was hovering just a couple of centimetres above the glasses on the table, its AG forcing spilt drink to slide about on the surface as if under an air blast. Its arms unfolded and took up two empty glasses, which it placed on top of itself. The obverse of its antigravity field stuck the glasses in place. From it issued a bored voice.

'Orders?' it asked.

'I'll have cool-ice,' said Stanton, and looked at Pelter.

'The same,' said Pelter, his attention fixed firmly back.

'Repeat order for you gentiemen?' the vendor asked.

'You bet,' said Dusache.

The vendor rose into the air, then floated across to Mr Crane, where it tilted, its lights moving frantically. Abruptly it shot away.

'Clever machine,' murmured Stanton, and men said, 'Right, we are all here having a wonderful time and not one of us is going to notice the four who are just about to come up the stairs.'

'What do you have?' asked Corlackis.

'I'd reckon on a covert group, probably ECS as one of them looks like a Golem.'

'How the hell do you tell?' asked Svent.

'Always too good,' Stanton replied. 'They can put scars on the outside, but they show from the inside as well. It's how you move… Here they come.'

'Bastard!' Mennecken yelled and pulled off his face cup and glove and slammed them on the table.

'I make that eight minutes,' said Corlackis, glancing at the timepiece set in his fingernail. 'I also make that fifty shillings you owe each of us.'

Mennecken was now looking at Stanton and Pelter. He then turned and looked at Mr Crane. Corlackis spoke before his brother had a chance to.

'Notice anything about the clientele of this restaurant?' he asked.

Mennecken's glance flicked round, then came back to his brother. 'Well, here we've got the leader of the Separatist cell on Cheyne III, five very obvious mercenaries, and a psychodroid,' he said.

'I meant the other clientele, as you well know.'

'OK, you mean, apart from the four ECS shits sitting over the far side there.'

Corlackis turned to Pelter. 'You want them taken out?'

Pelter did not answer. He, Dusache and Svent seemed to be having a staring competition. Stanton clamped down on his unease at this. He had one issue to focus on at the moment. He'd leave the one concerning biotech augs to another time.

'Yes, it would be better if we were not observed,' Pelter finally said, switching back to Corlackis. 'Though it may be useful to keep one of the humans alive for a chat.'

Corlackis nodded and turned to Stanton. 'A Golem, you say? Which one?' he asked.

'The one with the long black hair. Probably a Twenty to Twenty-five. Might be others there of a higher series, but they can be difficult to spot sometimes,' Stanton replied.

To Pelter, Corlackis said, 'Then perhaps we do need the hardware.' He looked up at Mr Crane. 'The questions now remain: where, when, and how? Any suggestions?'

'Whack 'em here and we got ten thousand in bribes to pay,' said Svent.

Pelter said, 'We will all return to your metrotel. Stanton and myself will book rooms. There are four of them and they cannot follow us all.' He turned to Svent and Dusache. 'You two will slip away at some point to reconnoitre. I want to know where they go, what they do. I want to know if they set up some kind of watching station. I also want to know if there are any more of them.' He now addressed them all. 'We will hit them during the brief night here. We will do it quietly and we will dispose of the remains.'

Stanton nodded in agreement with this, but could not help wondering if what Pelter had just said to Svent and Dusache had needed to be spoken out loud.

'I'd like the little catadapt,' said Mennecken, staring across the restaurant.

'As long as you are quiet,' Pelter replied.

'I will be. Can't speak for her,' said Mennecken.

'Now,' said Pelter, 'if we might return to why I asked you here?'

'Don't mind me,' said Mennecken.

Pelter did not. He made sure he had the attention of them all before going on. 7 will pay you each one hundred thousand New Carth shillings to help me get to a certain man and kill him.'

Corlackis let out a low whistle. 'Some man, then,' he said.

Stanton said, 'He's an ECS agent called Ian Cormac'

'I eat them for breakfast,' said Mennecken. Corlackis did not seem so sure. Stanton guessed that he recognized the name.

Pelter glanced over at the parked AGC Dusache had pointed out and tried not to sneer. This group was very unprofessional, nothing like Cormac. His sneer faded as he tried to work out the origins of that thought. Did it come from the dichotomy of running two augs that now seemed almost inimical to each other? Or was it from himself? He shook rain from his hair and glared dirough the false twilight.

The sky was growing darker and the rain steadily heavier. Tough growths, with the appearance of black briars, were pushing up between the slabs of the AGC park, and were not the only unwelcome visitors the extra moisture had brought.

'What the fuck is that?' said Svent, his hand sliding to the gap in his rainfilm.