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"
Yeah
,
I
remember
.
"
She
grimaced
,
then
turned
to
look
me
in
the
eyes
,
searching
Ryker
’
s
face
for
a
sign
that
she
could
trust
me
.
"
You
say
you
’
re
going
to
break
the
law
,
but
no
one
gets
hurt
.
That
’
s
right
?
"
"
No
one
who
matters
,
"
I
corrected
gently
.
She
nodded
slowly
to
herself
,
like
someone
weighing
up
a
convincing
argument
that
may
just
change
their
mind
for
good
.
"
So
what
do
you
need
?
"
I
levered
myself
off
the
rail
.
"
A
list
of
whorehouses
in
the
Bay
City
area
,
to
start
with
.
Places
that
run
virtual
stuff
.
After
that
,
we
’
d
better
get
back
to
town
.
I
don
’
t
want
to
call
Kawahara
from
out
here
.
"
She
blinked
.
"
Virtual
whorehouses
?
"
"
Yeah
.
And
the
mixed
ones
as
well
.
In
fact
,
make
it
every
place
on
the
West
Coast
that
runs
virtual
porn
.
The
lower
grade
the
better
.
I
’
m
going
to
sell
Bancroft
a
package
so
filthy
he
won
’
t
want
to
look
at
it
close
enough
to
check
for
cracks
.
So
bad
he
won
’
t
even
want
to
think
about
it
.
"
Ortega
’
s
list
was
over
two
thousand
names
long
,
each
annotated
with
a
brief
surveillance
report
and
any
Organic
-
Damage
convictions
tied
to
the
operators
or
clientele
.
In
hardcopy
format
it
ran
to
about
two
hundred
concertina
’
d
sheets
,
which
started
to
unravel
like
a
long
paper
scarf
as
soon
as
I
got
past
page
one
.
I
tried
to
scan
the
list
in
the
cab
back
to
Bay
City
,
but
gave
up
when
it
threatened
to
overwhelm
us
both
on
the
back
seat
.
I
wasn
’
t
in
the
mood
anyway
.
Most
of
me
wished
I
was
still
bedded
down
in
the
stern
cabin
of
Ryker
’
s
yacht
,
isolated
from
the
rest
of
humanity
and
its
problems
by
hundreds
of
kilometres
of
trackless
blue
.
Back
at
the
Watchtower
suite
,
I
put
Ortega
in
the
kitchen
while
I
called
Kawahara
at
the
number
Trepp
had
given
me
.
It
was
Trepp
that
came
on
screen
first
,
features
smeared
with
sleep
.
I
wondered
if
she
’
d
been
up
all
night
trying
to
track
me
.
"
Morning
.
"
She
yawned
and
presumably
checked
an
internal
timechip
.
"
Afternoon
,
I
mean
.
Where
’
ve
you
been
?
"
