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"
This
is
Mission
Street
,
"
said
Curtis
.
"
The
next
couple
of
blocks
are
all
hotels
.
You
want
me
to
drop
you
here
?
"
"
You
recommend
anywhere
?
"
"
Depends
what
you
want
.
"
I
gave
him
one
of
his
own
shrugs
back
.
"
Light
.
Space
.
Room
service
.
"
He
squinted
thoughtfully
.
"
Try
the
Hendrix
,
if
you
like
.
They
got
a
tower
annexe
,
and
the
whores
they
use
are
clean
.
"
The
limousine
picked
up
speed
fractionally
and
we
made
a
couple
of
blocks
in
silence
.
I
neglected
to
explain
I
hadn
’
t
meant
that
kind
of
room
service
.
Let
Curtis
draw
the
conclusions
he
seemed
to
want
to
.
Unbidden
,
a
freeze
frame
of
Miriam
Bancroft
’
s
sweat
-
dewed
cleavage
bounced
through
my
mind
.
The
limo
coasted
to
a
halt
outside
a
well
-
lit
façade
in
a
style
I
didn
’
t
recognise
.
I
climbed
out
and
stared
up
at
a
huge
holocast
black
man
,
features
screwed
up
presumably
in
ecstasy
at
the
music
he
was
wringing
left
-
handed
from
a
white
guitar
.
The
image
had
the
slightly
artificial
edges
of
a
remastered
two
-
dimensional
image
,
which
made
it
old
.
Hoping
this
might
indicate
a
tradition
of
service
and
not
just
decrepitude
,
I
thanked
Curtis
,
slammed
the
door
and
watched
the
limousine
cruise
away
.
It
began
to
climb
almost
immediately
and
after
a
moment
I
lost
the
tail
lights
in
the
streams
of
airborne
traffic
.
I
turned
to
the
mirrored
glass
doors
behind
me
and
they
parted
slightly
jerkily
to
let
me
in
.
If
the
lobby
was
anything
to
go
by
,
the
Hendrix
was
certainly
going
to
satisfy
the
second
of
my
requirements
.
Curtis
could
have
parked
three
or
four
of
Bancroft
’
s
limos
side
by
side
in
it
and
still
have
had
space
to
wheel
a
cleaning
robot
round
them
.
I
wasn
’
t
so
sure
about
the
first
.
The
walls
and
ceiling
bore
an
irregular
spacing
of
illuminum
tiles
whose
half
-
life
was
clearly
almost
up
,
and
their
feeble
radiance
had
the
sole
effect
of
shovelling
the
gloom
into
the
centre
of
the
room
.
The
street
I
’
d
just
come
in
off
was
the
strongest
source
of
light
in
the
place
.
The
lobby
was
deserted
,
but
there
was
a
faint
blue
glow
coming
from
a
counter
on
the
far
wall
.
I
picked
my
way
towards
it
,
past
low
armchairs
and
shin
-
hungry
metal
-
edged
tables
,
and
found
a
recessed
monitor
screen
swarming
with
the
random
snow
of
disconnection
.
In
one
corner
,
a
command
pulsed
on
and
off
in
English
,
Spanish
and
Kanji
characters
:
