"Very big. There were fifteen rooms."
"Fifteen? That's a lot of rooms for just the three of you. You had no brothers or sisters?"
"No"—again it hesitated—"I ... I don't think so."
"Okay." Kim laid his hand on the creature's shoulder, reassuring it. "You can relax now. We'll talk more later."
He went out, Curval joining him in the anteroom.
"Well?" the older man asked impatiently. "What do you think?"
Kim went to the machine in the corner and punched for a bulb of soup. "I think the implant's taken well."
Curval followed him across. "So what was all that about?"
Kim turned back, handed Curval the bulb, then punched for another. "You mean, why didn't I program him properly? Why did I leave gaps?"
"That's exactly what I mean."
Kim took the bulb, cracked it open, then sat on the corner of the nearby table. "Because I want to see what it does with them."
Curval frowned. "With what?"
Kim sipped then smiled. "With the gaps. If my hunch is right, its brain won't be happy with the situation—with there being gaps. If I'm right, it will try to fill them."
"Fill them? How? We'd have to program it, surely?"
"Would we?" Kim sipped again, then laughed. "Let's give it half an hour and see what happens."
Curval laughed, then turned, looking through the glass at the creature on the table. It lay there, inert, like a piece of discarded machinery. "What could happen?"
Kim finished his soup, throwing the flattened bulb into the disposal. "It might invent something."
"Like what?"
"Wait and see," Kim said, going to the machine and punching for another soup. "Just wait and see."
"Tell me your name?"
Light flickered in the creature's eye. On the right-hand screen a single flare of yellow brightened and then faded.
"I am Box."
"I see." Kim looked across. Curval, at the desk, was sitting forward, astonished.
"Box. That's the name your parents gave you?"
"Yes."
"You remember your parents, then?"
"You asked me that before."
Kim smiled. "I did, didn't I?"
"You asked me if I remembered being with them and I said no,"
"But now you do?"
It hesitated, then. "Yes, I remember it now."
"Why do you think that is?"
"I ... I must have forgotten."
never know, never realize just what he could have been. Gaps All he'll ever know are gaps."
VON PASENOW stood in the shadows at the back of the room, waiting while Tolonen took the call. He listened, sensitive to the nuances in the Marshal's voice, to the sudden defensive stiffness of his posture, and knew that the old man's overpolite manner concealed real depths of hostility. Whoever Ward was, he was no friend of the Marshal's.
As the old man cut the call and turned to him again, he straightened, attentive once more.
"I'm sorry about that," Tolonen said, a flicker of distaste crossing his face. "You'd think he'd deal with the appropriate manager! Why he has to pester me . . . Anyway . . . you were saying you had news."
Von Pasenow took two steps forward, into the circle of light cast by the hover-globe at Tolonen's elbow, then bowed his head.
"I think we've found them, sir."
"Found them! Why that's excellent! Where?"
He raised his head. Tolonen was leaning forward, staring at him eagerly.
"We've traced them to Cosenza in the south. It looks like they're preparing to slip away to Africa. My guess is that they're waiting to be paid off, otherwise they'd have gone."
Tolonen nodded, then waved him to continue.
"I've had the surrounding levels staked out thoroughly. Good men. Reliable, ex-service types. My men are in the transits and at all the barriers. If they even cough I'll know about it."
Tolonen stood. "Excellent. Then let's go there, neh?"
"Marshal?" Von Pasenow stared at the old man, surprised. "But I thought . . ."
Tolonen came around the desk and placed a golden hand on Von Pasenow's shoulder. "You've done a good job, Major. I knew you would. That's why I hired you. But this is personal. You understand?"
Von Pasenow bowed his head. "Of course, sir. I'll take you there at once."
"Good. And, Major ... if we have to take containment action, we do what has to be done, neh? I'll accept the responsibility for any consequences. But I want at least one of the fuckers alive. I don't care how you do it, but you do it, right?"
Von Pasenow swallowed, then bowed his head. "Sir!"
THE CURTAINS WERE DRAWN, the room in semidarkness. From the far side of the room he could hear her soft, regular breathing and smiled. The room was warm, filled with the sweetly perfumed scent of her. Hesitant, he pushed the door closed and tiptoed to the bed.
Shu-sun lay there, her back to him, a bright red silk wrapped about her nakedness. Gently Tsu Ma sat, careful not to disturb her, then leaned across, his eyes taking in the features of her sleeping face.
He had not been wrong. She was every bit as beautiful as he'd remembered. As he watched, she turned, slowly, sensuously uncurling, her lips parting a fraction, her shoulders and neck stretching. Then, with a lazy motion, her eyes opened, the pupils heavy with sleep. Seeing him, she smiled.
"Where were you?" she asked, her voice a lazy, familiar drawl. "I thought you were going to come, but you didn't. . . ."
He felt a pang of guilt and quickly suppressed it. "I'm here now," he said, placing his palm against her cheek and smoothing it. She took it and slowly led it down her body onto the warm, firm breast beneath the silk.
"I wanted you."
"Wanted?" He felt a tiny shiver of anticipation pass through him. The silken warmth of her inflamed him.
"Want," she said, correcting herself.
She lifted his hand to her lips, kissed it, then, releasing it, drew back her silks, revealing her nakedness. Tsu Ma let a long, slow breath escape him, bewitched by the sight of her, then leaned forward and gently kissed first one and then the other breast, his tongue lingering on the nipples.
He glanced up at her. Her eyes were closed now, her whole face lit with pleasure at what he was doing. He bent again, kissing and teasing her breasts, his hands moving down her body, tracing the smooth young shape of it, eliciting soft sighs from her.
Moving back, he shrugged off his jacket and then stood, beginning to undress. Her eyes opened lazily, watching him, her smile heavy with desire, her body turning toward him like an offering. He threw off his shirt and kicked away his boots, then peeled off his leggings. As he moved forward to kneel on the edge of the bed, she sat up and reached out to him, her fingers caressing his stomach and his inner thighs, tracing a circle about his groin, her eyes wide, enjoying the sight of his fierce arousal.
He closed his eyes and groaned as she leaned closer, her fingers cupping his balls gently, tenderly while her mouth opened to him. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he began to knead the muscles there, half tender, half savage.
"Aiya," he moaned, unable to keep himself from thrusting at her. "Aiya!"
His hands were at her neck now. As she leaned into him, taking him deeper, he reached up with his right hand and, grasping the point where her hair was gathered into a plait, pulled back her head, as if reining in a horse.
She stared back up at him, her mouth still open, her face entirely changed, a primal savagery staring back at him from her eyes. He shuddered then pulled her down, his mouth going to hers and crushing it almost brutally, even as her legs parted and her body curled about his. With a gasp he was inside her, the shock of entry making them both cry out, she high, he low. Savagely he thrust at her, as if to destroy her, to annihilate her utterly, her cries, the pained contortions of her face, robbing him of all reason. She clung to him fiercely, pushing up to meet each downward thrust like some young animal in its death throes.