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Fucking
cigarettes
.
We
came
out
from
under
the
pillars
and
across
a
deserted
intersection
where
the
traffic
lights
leaned
at
drunken
angles
.
One
of
them
stirred
feebly
,
lights
changing
,
as
the
Mongol
passed
it
.
A
senile
robot
voice
husked
out
at
me
.
Cross
now
.
Cross
now
.
Cross
now
.
I
already
had
.
The
echoes
followed
me
beseechingly
up
the
street
.
Past
the
derelict
hulks
of
vehicles
that
hadn
’
t
moved
from
their
kerbside
resting
places
in
years
.
Barred
and
shuttered
frontages
that
might
or
might
not
be
rolled
up
for
business
during
daylight
hours
,
steam
rising
from
a
grate
in
the
side
of
the
street
like
something
alive
.
The
paving
under
my
feet
was
slick
with
the
rain
and
a
grey
muck
distilled
from
items
of
decaying
garbage
.
The
shoes
that
had
come
with
Bancroft
’
s
summer
suit
were
thin
-
soled
and
devoid
of
useful
grip
.
Only
the
perfect
balance
of
the
neurachem
kept
me
upright
.
The
Mongol
cast
a
glance
back
over
his
shoulder
as
he
came
level
with
two
parked
wrecks
,
saw
I
was
still
there
and
broke
left
across
the
street
as
soon
as
he
cleared
the
last
vehicle
.
I
tried
to
adjust
my
trajectory
and
cut
him
off
,
crossing
the
street
at
an
angle
before
I
reached
the
wrecked
cars
,
but
my
quarry
had
timed
the
trap
too
well
.
I
was
already
on
the
first
wreck
,
and
I
skidded
trying
to
stop
in
time
.
I
bounced
off
the
hood
of
the
rusting
vehicle
into
a
shopfront
shutter
.
The
metal
clanged
and
sizzled
;
a
low
-
current
anti
-
loitering
charge
stung
my
hands
.
Across
the
street
,
the
Mongol
stretched
the
distance
between
us
by
another
ten
metres
.
A
wayward
speck
of
traffic
moved
in
the
sky
above
me
.
I
spotted
the
fleeing
figure
on
the
other
side
of
the
street
and
kicked
off
from
the
kerb
,
cursing
the
impulse
that
had
made
me
turn
down
Bancroft
’
s
offer
of
armaments
.
At
this
range
a
beam
weapon
would
have
carved
the
Mongol
’
s
legs
out
from
under
him
easily
.
Instead
,
I
tucked
in
behind
him
and
tried
to
find
the
lung
capacity
from
somewhere
to
close
up
the
gap
again
.
Maybe
I
could
panic
him
into
tripping
.
That
wasn
’
t
what
happened
,
but
it
was
close
enough
.
The
buildings
to
our
left
gave
way
to
waste
ground
bordered
by
a
sagging
fence
.
The
Mongol
looked
back
again
and
made
his
first
mistake
.
He
stopped
,
threw
himself
on
the
fence
,
which
promptly
collapsed
,
and
scrambled
over
into
the
darkness
beyond
.
I
grinned
and
followed
.
Finally
,
I
had
the
advantage
.
Perhaps
he
was
hoping
to
lose
himself
in
the
darkness
,
or
expecting
me
to
twist
an
ankle
over
the
uneven
ground
.
But
the
Envoy
conditioning
squeezed
my
pupils
into
instant
dilation
in
the
low
-
light
surroundings
and
mapped
my
steps
over
the
uneven
surface
with
lightning
speed
,
and
the
neurachem
put
my
feet
there
with
a
rapidity
to
match
.
The
ground
ghosted
by
beneath
me
the
way
it
had
beneath
Jimmy
de
Soto
in
my
dream
.
Given
a
hundred
metres
of
this
I
was
going
to
overtake
my
Mongol
friend
,
unless
he
too
had
augmented
vision
.
In
the
event
,
the
waste
ground
ran
out
before
that
,
but
by
then
there
was
barely
the
original
dozen
metres
between
us
when
we
both
hit
the
fence
on
the
far
side
.
He
scaled
the
wire
,
dropped
to
the
ground
and
started
up
the
street
while
I
was
still
climbing
,
but
then
,
abruptly
,
he
appeared
to
stumble
.
I
cleared
the
top
of
the
fence
and
swung
down
lightly
.
He
must
have
heard
me
drop
though
,
because
he
spun
out
of
the
huddle
,
still
not
finished
with
clipping
together
the
thing
in
his
hands
.
The
muzzle
came
up
and
I
dived
for
the
street
.
I
hit
hard
,
skinning
my
hands
and
rolling
.
Lightning
torched
the
night
where
I
had
been
.
The
stink
of
ozone
washed
over
me
and
the
crackle
of
disrupted
air
curled
in
my
ears
.
I
kept
rolling
and
the
particle
blaster
lit
up
again
,
charring
past
my
shoulder
.
The
damp
street
hissed
with
steam
in
its
wake
.
I
scrambled
for
cover
that
wasn
’
t
there
.
