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- Ричард Морган
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"
Now
you
’
re
insulting
me
.
Sit
down
!
"
I
saw
the
realisation
explode
behind
her
eyes
.
"
Kovacs
?
"
An
unpleasant
smile
bent
at
her
lips
.
"
Kovacs
,
you
stupid
,
stupid
bastard
.
Do
you
have
any
idea
what
you
’
ve
just
thrown
away
?
"
"
I
said
sit
down
.
"
"
She
has
gone
,
Kovacs
.
Back
to
Harlan
’
s
World
.
I
kept
my
word
.
What
do
you
think
you
’
re
doing
here
?
"
"
I
’
m
not
going
to
tell
you
again
,
"
I
said
mildly
.
"
Either
you
sit
down
now
,
or
I
’
ll
break
one
of
your
kneecaps
.
"
The
thin
smile
stayed
on
Kawahara
’
s
mouth
as
she
lowered
herself
a
centimetre
at
a
time
onto
the
nearest
lounger
.
"
Very
well
,
Kovacs
.
We
’
ll
play
to
your
script
tonight
.
And
then
I
’
ll
have
that
fishwife
Sachilowska
dragged
all
the
way
back
here
and
you
with
her
.
What
are
you
going
to
do
?
Kill
me
?
"
"
If
necessary
.
"
"
For
what
?
Is
this
some
kind
of
moral
stand
?
"
The
emphasis
Kawahara
laid
on
the
last
two
words
made
it
sound
like
the
name
of
a
product
.
"
Aren
’
t
you
forgetting
something
?
If
you
kill
me
here
,
it
’
ll
take
about
eighteen
hours
for
the
remote
storage
system
in
Europe
to
notice
and
then
re
-
sleeve
me
from
my
last
update
‘
cast
.
And
it
won
’
t
take
the
new
me
very
long
to
work
out
what
happened
up
here
.
"
I
seated
myself
on
the
edge
of
the
lounger
.
"
Oh
,
I
don
’
t
know
.
