Maryalice cringed. Put it back, okay? She swallowed. See, the problem isnt whether or not theres been a mistake. The problems theyll kill us now anyway, because we know about it. And Eddie, hell let em. Cause he has to. And cause hes just sort of generally fed up with me, the ungrateful little greasy shithead motherfucker Maryalice shook her head sadly. Its about the end of our relationship, you ask me.
Account accessed, Masahiko said. Join us here now, please. You have another visitor.
29. Her Bad Side
Arleighs van smelled of long-chain monomers and warm electronics. The rear seats had been removed to make room for the collection of black consoles, cabled together and wedged into place with creaking wads of bubble-pack.
Rez rode up front, beside the driver, the ponytailed Japanese Californian from Akihabara. Laney squatted on a console, between Arleigh and Yamazaki, with Willy Jude and the red-haired tech behind them. Laneys ribs hurt, where hed come down on the table, and that seemed to be getting worse. Hed discovered that the top of his left sock was sticky with blood, but he wasnt sure where it had come from or even if it was his own.
Arleigh had her phone pressed to her ear. Option eight, she said, evidently to the driver, who touched the pad beside the dashboard map. Laney glimpsed Tokyo grid-segments whipping past on the screen. Were taking Rez back with us.
Take me to the Imperial, Rez said.
Blackwells orders, Arleigh said.
Let me talk to him. Reaching back for the phone.
They swung left, into a wider street, their lights picking out a small crowd speedwalking away from the Western World, all of them trying to look as though they just happened to be there, out for a brisk stroll. The neighborhood was nondescript and generically urban and, aside from the guilty-looking speedwalkers, quite deserted.
Keithy, Rez said, I want to go back to the hotel. The terrible white daystar of a police helicopter swept over them, carbon-black shadows speeding away across concrete. Rez was listening to the phone. They passed an all-night noodle wagon, its interior ghostly behind curtains of yellowed plastic. Images flicking past on a small screen behind the counter. Arleigh nudged Laneys knee, pointed past Rezs shoulder. A trio of white armored cars shot through the approaching intersection, blue lights flashing on their rectangular turrets, and vanished without a sound. Rez turned, handing the phone back to her. Keithys being his para self. He wants me to go to your hotel and wait for him.
Arleigh took the phone. Does he know what it was about?
Autograph-hunters? Rez started to turn back around in his seat.
What happened to the idoru? Laney asked.
Rez peered at him. If you kidnapped that new platformand I thought it was wonderfulwhat exactly would you have?
I dont know.
Reis only reality is the realm of ongoing serial creation, Rez said. Entirely process; infinitely more than the combined sum of her various selves. The platforms sink beneath her, one after another, as she grows denser and more complex The long green eyes seemed to grow dreamy, in the light of passing storefronts, and then the singer turned away.
Laney watched Arleigh dab at the cut corner of her mouth with a tissue.
Laney-san Yamazaki, a whisper. Putting something into his hand. A cabled set of eyephones. We have global fan-activity database
His ribs hurt. Was his leg bleeding? Later, okay?
Arleighs suite was at least twice as large as Laneys room. It had its own miniature sitting room, separated from the bedroom and bath with gilded French doors. The four chairs in the sitting room had very tall, very narrow backs, each one tapering to a rendition of the elf hat, done in sandblasted steel. These chairs were quite amazingly uncomfortable, and Laney was hunched forward on one now, in considerable pain, hugging his bruised ribs. The blood in his sock had turned out to be his own, from a skinned patch on his left shin. Hed plastered it over with micropore from the professional-looking first-aid kit in Arleighs bathroom. He doubted there was anything there for his ribs, but he was wondering if some kind of elastic bandage might help.
Yamazaki was on the chair to his right, reattaching the sleeve of his plaid jacket with bright gold safety pins from an Evil Elf Hat emergency sewing kit. Laney had never actually seen anyone use a hotel rooms emergency sewing kit for anything. Yamazaki had removed his damaged glasses and was working with the jacket held close to his face. This made him look older, and somehow calmer. To Yamazakis right, the red-haired technician, who was called Shannon, was sitting up very straight and reading a complimentary style magazine.
Rez was sprawled on the bed, propped up on the maximum available number of pillows, and Willy Jude sat at its foot, channel-surfing with his video units. The panic at the Western World apparently hadnt made the news yet, although the drummer said hed caught an oblique reference on one of the clubbing channels.
Arleigh was standing by the window, pressing an ice cube in a white washcloth against her swollen lip.
Did he give you any idea of when he might turn up? Rez, from the bed.
No, Arleigh said, but he made it clear he wanted you to wait.
Rez sighed.
Let the people take care of you, Rez, Willy Jude said. Its what theyre paid for.
Laney had taken it for granted that all of them were expected to wait, along with Rez, for Blackwell. Now he decided to try to return to his room. All they could do was stop him.
Blackwell opened the door from the corridor, pocketing something black, something that definitely wasnt your standard-issue hotel key. There was a pale X of micropore across his right cheek, the longest arm reaching the tip of his chin.
Evening, Keithy, Rez said.
You really mustnt piss off like that, the bodyguard said. Those Russians are a serious crew. Massive triers, those boys. Wouldnt do if they got hold of you, Rozzer. Not at an. You wouldnt like it.
Kuwayama and the platform?
Have to tell you, Rez. Blackwell stood at the foot of the bed. Ive seen you go with women I wouldnt take to a shit-fight on a dark night, but at least they were human. Hear what Im saying?
I do, Keithy, the singer said. I know how you feel about her. But youll come around. Its the way of things, Keithy. The new way. New world.
I dont know anything about that. My old dad was a Painter and Docker; had a dockys brief. Broke his heart I turned out the sort of crim I did. Died before youd got me out of B Division. Wouldve liked him to see me assume responsibility, Rez. For you. For your safety. But now I dont know. Might not impress him so. Might tell me Im just minding a fool with a bloated sense of himself.
Rez came up off the bed, surprising Laney with his speed, a performers grace, and then he was in front of Blackwell, his hands on the huge shoulders. But you dont think that, do you, Keithy? You didnt in Pentridge. Not when you came for me. And not when I came back for you.
Blackwells eyes glistened. He was about to say something, but Yamazaki suddenly stood up, blinking, and put his green plaid sportscoat on. He craned his neck, peering nearsightedly at the pins hed used to mend it, then seemed to realize that everyone in the suite was looking at him. He coughed nervously and sat back down.
A silence followed. Out of line, I was, Rozzer, Blackwell said, breaking it.