‘More danger.’
‘Yes.’ She said it with deep finality. ‘Laying down clues and waiting for you to follow them wasn’t enough for Voronoff. He started to make himself more prominent — placing himself at ever greater risk, but always maintaining an edge of control. That’s why I said he’s good. But Reivich didn’t like it, for obvious reasons. Voronoff was no longer serving him. He was serving himself; finding a new way to stave off the boredom. And I think it worked, being in that role.’
‘Not for me it didn’t.’
I stood up, almost upsetting the table as I did so. And one hand was already beginning the journey to my pocket.
‘Tanner,’ Zebra said, quickly, reaching for the hem of my coat as I stepped away from her, ‘killing him won’t change a thing.’
‘Voronoff,’ I said, at the top of my voice — not actually shouting it, but projecting like an actor of great reknown. ‘Voronoff — turn around and step away from the crowd.’
The gun gleamed in my hand, and now people began to notice it for the first time.
The man who looked like Reivich met my gaze and managed not to look too surprised. But he was not the only one who met my gaze. I had managed to get everyone’s attention by now, and those who were not trying to read my expression were fixated by the gun. If the hunt was as endemic amongst Canopy dwellers as I had been led to believe, many of these people would have seen and handled weapons of far greater potency than the pistol I hefted now. But never in a place as public as this; never with such crass vulgarity. Judging by the looks of shock and bewilderment and revulsion I saw, I might as well have been pissing on the ornamental lawn which fringed the koi pond.
‘Maybe you didn’t hear me, Voronoff.’ I sounded sweetly reasonable to my own ears. ‘I know who you are and what this is all about. If you know anything about me you’ll also know that I’m fully capable of using this.’ I had the gun aimed in his direction now, double-handed stance with my feet slightly spread.
‘Drop it, Mirabel.’
It was not a voice I had heard recently, nor had it come from the crowd. I felt a touch of soft metallic cold against the nape of my neck.
‘Are you deaf? I said drop the piece. Do it fast or your head’ll be following it down.’
I started lowering the piece, but that wasn’t good enough for the speaker standing behind me. He increased the pressure against my neck in a manner which strongly suggested it would be in my best interest to let the gun drop.
I did.
‘You,’ the man said, evidently addressing Zebra. ‘Kick the gun to me, and don’t even think about trying anything creative.’
She did as she was told.
I saw a hand reach out in my peripheral vision and snatch the gun from the ground; the pressure of the weapon against my neck changed slightly as the man knelt. But he was good; I could tell that, so — like Zebra — I wasn’t tempted to even think about trying anything creative. That was good, because I was all out of creativity.
‘Voronoff, you fool,’ said the voice. ‘Look what you nearly got us into.’ And then I heard clicking sounds as the gun was inspected, followed by a tut of amusement from the hidden speaker, whose voice I almost recognised. ‘It’s empty. The damn thing was empty all along.’
‘News to me,’ I said.
‘I did it,’ Zebra said, shrugging. ‘You can’t blame me, can you? I had a feeling you might end up pointing it at me, so I just took a precaution.’
‘Next time, don’t bother,’ I said.
‘Not that it exactly mattered,’ Zebra said, doing a poor job of masking her annoyance. ‘You never even tried to fire the fucking thing, Tanner.’
I angled my eyes upwards, as if I was trying to look behind my own head. ‘Are you involved with this clown?’
That got me an acute stabbing pain between the ears. The man said, projecting his voice out to the people who were staring at us, ‘All right; this is Canopy security; the situation is under control.’ I saw a flash of identity in my peripheral vision; a leatherbound card embossed with scrolling data which he waved at the crowd.
It seemed to have the desired effect; about half the people drifted away and the others tried to pretend that they had never really been interested in what was going on. The pressure eased and the man sidled around to my front, pulling up a seat for himself. Voronoff had also joined us, the exact facsimile of Reivich disporting himself opposite me with a scowl of displeasure written across his face.
‘Sorry for spoiling your little game,’ I said.
The other man was Quirrenbach, although he had changed his appearance since our last encounter, looking meaner, leaner and a great deal less patient and bewildered. The gun in his hand was small and dainty enough to have been a gimmicky cigarette-lighter.
‘How’s the symphony coming on?’
‘That was a very sneaky thing you did, Mirabel; leaving me like that. I suppose I should thank you for returning the money that you made on my experientials, but you’ll excuse me if I don’t overwhelm you with a flood of gratitude.’
I shrugged. ‘I had a job to do. You didn’t figure in it.’
‘How’s that job looking now?’ Voronoff said, still sneering at me. ‘Time for a rethink, Mirabel?’
‘You tell me.’
Quirrenbach flashed a quick grin at me, like an aggressive ape. ‘Tough talk from someone who didn’t even know his gun wasn’t loaded. Maybe you’re not quite the professional hotshot we’ve been led to believe.’ He reached over and helped himself to my tea, maintaining eye contact all the while. ‘How did you know he wasn’t Reivich, by the way?’
‘Have a guess,’ Zebra said.
‘I could kill you for betraying us,’ Quirrenbach said to her. ‘But right now I’m not sure I can muster the enthusiasm.’
‘Why don’t you start with Voronoff, dickhead?’
He looked at Zebra, then at the man disguised as Reivich, as if weighing the idea seriously. ‘That really wouldn’t do, would it?’ Then his attention returned to me. ‘We caused quite a stir back there, Mirabel. It won’t be long before what passes for authority here comes to take a look, and I really don’t think any of us want to be around when that happens.’
‘So you’re really not Canopy security?’
‘Sorry to shatter your illusions.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ I said. ‘They were shattered quite some time ago.’
Quirrenbach smiled and stood up, the tiny little gun still nestling in his fist, as if with one spasm of his fingers he might crush it to shreds. He danced the barrel between Zebra and myself, holding his fake ID in the other hand like a talisman. Voronoff, meanwhile, produced a weapon of his own; between them they had us comprehensively covered. We walked through the crowd, Quirrenbach daring anyone to pay us anything more than glancing interest. Neither Zebra or myself made any attempt to resist or escape; it would not have been worth it.
Only three vehicles were parked on the landing ledge, cowled dark shapes glossy with rainwater, roof-mounted arms partially extended in readiness for flight, like three upturned dead spiders. One was the car in which Zebra and I had arrived. I recognised one of the other cars as well, but not the one to which Quirrenbach was leading us.
‘Are you going to kill me now?’ I asked. ‘Because if you are, you could save yourself a lot of trouble by throwing me over the edge here. There’s no need to spice up my last moments with a ride through the Canopy.’