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"
Bay
City
police
.
The
lieutenant
wants
to
talk
to
you
.
"
The
sentence
sounded
bitten
off
,
as
if
he
was
resisting
the
urge
to
add
some
epithet
to
the
end
of
it
.
I
made
an
attempt
to
look
as
if
I
was
seriously
considering
whether
or
not
to
go
along
with
them
,
but
they
had
me
and
they
knew
it
.
An
hour
out
of
the
tank
,
you
don
’
t
know
enough
about
your
new
body
to
be
getting
into
brawls
with
it
.
I
shut
down
my
images
of
Sarah
’
s
death
and
let
myself
be
shepherded
back
to
the
seated
cop
.
The
lieutenant
was
a
woman
in
her
thirties
.
Under
the
golden
discs
of
her
shades
,
she
wore
cheekbones
from
some
Amerindian
ancestor
and
a
wide
slash
of
a
mouth
that
was
currently
set
in
a
sardonic
line
.
The
sunglasses
were
jammed
on
a
nose
you
could
have
opened
cans
on
.
Short
,
untidy
hair
framed
the
whole
face
,
stuck
up
in
spikes
at
the
front
.
She
had
wrapped
herself
in
an
outsize
combat
jacket
but
the
long
,
black
-
encased
legs
that
protruded
from
its
lower
edge
were
a
clear
hint
of
the
lithe
body
within
.
She
looked
up
at
me
with
her
arms
folded
on
her
chest
for
nearly
a
minute
before
anyone
spoke
.
"
It
’
s
Kovacs
,
right
?
"
"
Yes
.
"
"
Takeshi
Kovacs
?
"
Her
pronunciation
was
perfect
.
"
Out
of
Harlan
’
s
World
?
Millsport
via
the
Kanagawa
storage
facility
?
"
"
Tell
you
what
,
I
’
ll
just
stop
you
when
you
get
one
wrong
.
"
There
was
a
long
,
mirror
-
lensed
pause
.
The
lieutenant
unfolded
fractionally
and
examined
the
blade
of
one
hand
.
"
You
got
a
licence
for
that
sense
of
humour
,
Kovacs
?
"
"
Sorry
.
Left
it
at
home
.
"
