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- Ричард Морган
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- Стр. 515/560
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I
gave
them
a
full
minute
before
I
breathed
again
.
Then
I
checked
the
corridor
in
both
directions
,
went
rapidly
round
the
corner
and
knocked
on
the
door
with
the
butt
of
the
shard
gun
.
Without
waiting
for
a
reply
,
I
walked
in
.
The
chamber
was
exactly
as
Miller
had
described
it
.
Twenty
metres
wide
and
walled
in
non
-
reflective
glass
that
sloped
inward
from
roof
to
floor
.
On
a
clear
day
you
could
probably
lie
on
that
slope
and
peer
down
thousands
of
metres
to
the
sea
below
.
The
décor
was
stark
and
owed
a
lot
to
Kawahara
’
s
early
millennium
roots
.
The
walls
were
smoke
grey
,
the
floor
fused
glass
and
the
lighting
came
from
jagged
pieces
of
origami
performed
in
illuminum
sheeting
and
spiked
on
iron
tripods
in
the
corners
of
the
room
.
One
side
of
the
room
was
dominated
by
a
massive
slab
of
black
steel
that
must
serve
as
a
desk
,
the
other
held
a
group
of
shale
-
coloured
loungers
grouped
around
an
imitation
oil
drum
brazier
.
Beyond
the
loungers
,
an
arched
doorway
led
out
to
what
Miller
had
surmised
were
sleeping
quarters
.
Above
the
desk
,
a
slow
weaving
holodisplay
of
data
had
been
abandoned
to
its
own
devices
.
Reileen
Kawahara
stood
with
her
back
to
the
door
,
staring
out
at
the
night
sky
.
"
Forget
something
?
"
she
asked
distantly
.
"
No
,
not
a
thing
.
"
I
saw
how
her
back
stiffened
as
she
heard
me
,
but
when
she
turned
it
was
with
unhurried
smoothness
and
even
the
sight
of
the
shard
gun
didn
’
t
crack
the
icy
calm
on
her
face
.
Her
voice
was
almost
as
disinterested
as
it
had
been
before
she
turned
.
"
Who
are
you
?
How
did
you
get
in
here
?
"
"
Think
about
it
.
"
I
gestured
at
the
loungers
.
"
Sit
down
over
there
,
take
the
weight
off
your
feet
while
you
’
re
thinking
.
"
"
Kadmin
?
"
