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- Ричард Морган
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"
I
’
ve
been
calling
since
eight
this
morning
,
but
the
hotel
refused
to
put
me
through
.
I
didn
’
t
realise
you
would
sleep
so
late
.
"
I
grinned
at
her
through
a
mouthful
of
chicken
.
"
Faulty
research
,
then
.
I
was
only
sleeved
yesterday
.
"
She
stiffened
a
little
at
that
,
but
then
a
professional
calm
asserted
itself
.
She
crossed
the
room
and
took
a
seat
on
the
window
shelf
.
"
We
’
ll
be
late
,
then
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
guess
you
need
breakfast
.
"
It
was
cold
in
the
middle
of
the
Bay
.
I
climbed
out
of
the
autocab
into
watery
sunshine
and
a
buffeting
wind
.
It
had
rained
during
the
night
,
and
there
were
still
a
few
piles
of
grey
cumulus
skulking
around
inland
,
sullenly
resisting
the
attempts
of
a
stiff
sea
breeze
to
sweep
them
away
.
I
turned
up
the
collar
of
my
summer
suit
and
made
a
mental
note
to
buy
a
coat
.
Nothing
serious
,
something
coming
to
mid
thigh
with
a
collar
and
pockets
big
enough
to
stuff
your
hands
in
.
Beside
me
,
Prescott
was
looking
unbearably
snug
inside
her
coat
.
She
paid
off
the
cab
with
a
swipe
of
her
thumb
and
we
both
stood
back
as
it
rose
.
A
welcome
rush
of
warm
air
from
the
lift
turbines
washed
over
my
hands
and
face
.
I
blinked
my
eyes
against
the
small
storm
of
grit
and
dust
and
saw
how
Prescott
raised
one
slender
arm
to
do
the
same
.
Then
the
cab
was
gone
,
droning
away
to
join
the
beehive
activity
in
the
sky
above
the
mainland
.
Prescott
turned
to
the
building
behind
us
and
gestured
with
one
laconic
thumb
.
"
This
way
.
"
I
pushed
my
hands
into
the
inadequate
pockets
of
my
suit
and
followed
her
lead
.
Bent
slightly
into
the
wind
,
we
picked
our
way
up
the
long
,
winding
steps
to
PsychaSec
Alcatraz
.
