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Curtis
picked
up
his
glass
and
threw
a
generous
portion
of
the
vodka
down
his
throat
.
He
drew
breath
hard
through
his
teeth
and
made
a
satisfied
growling
noise
.
I
sipped
at
my
own
glass
a
little
more
circumspectly
,
wondering
how
long
it
had
been
since
liquid
last
flowed
through
the
bar
’
s
tubes
and
spigots
.
My
fears
proved
unfounded
,
so
I
deepened
the
sip
and
let
the
whisky
melt
its
way
down
into
my
stomach
.
Curtis
banged
down
his
glass
.
"
Now
you
ready
to
talk
?
"
"
All
right
,
Curtis
,
"
I
said
slowly
,
looking
into
my
drink
.
"
I
imagine
you
have
a
message
for
me
.
"
"
Sure
have
.
"
His
voice
was
cranked
to
snapping
point
.
"
The
lady
says
,
you
going
to
take
her
very
generous
offer
,
or
not
.
Just
that
.
I
’
m
supposed
to
give
you
time
to
make
up
your
mind
,
so
I
’
ll
finish
my
drink
.
"
I
fixed
my
gaze
on
a
Martian
sand
lamp
hanging
from
the
opposite
wall
.
Curtis
’
s
mood
was
beginning
to
make
some
sense
.
"
Muscling
in
on
your
territory
,
am
I
?
"
"
Don
’
t
push
your
luck
,
Kovacs
.
"
There
was
a
desperate
edge
to
the
words
.
"
You
say
the
wrong
thing
here
,
and
I
’
ll
—
"
"
You
’
ll
what
?
"
I
set
my
glass
down
and
turned
to
face
him
.
He
was
less
than
half
my
subjective
age
,
young
and
muscled
and
chemically
wound
up
in
the
illusion
that
he
was
dangerous
.
He
reminded
me
so
much
of
myself
at
the
same
age
it
was
maddening
.
I
wanted
to
shake
him
.
"
You
’
ll
what
?
Curtis
gulped
.
"
I
was
in
the
provincial
marines
.
"
