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Her
hiding
place
proved
to
be
a
service
tunnel
of
some
kind
.
She
crawled
out
through
a
hinged
,
ornate
grill
of
tarnished
brass
.
He
saw
enough
of
her
arms
and
hands
to
know
that
she
wore
the
polycarbon
suit
again
.
Under
the
plastic
,
he
felt
the
familiar
tension
of
thin
tight
leather
.
There
was
something
slung
under
her
arm
in
a
harness
or
holster
.
She
stood
up
,
unzipped
the
suit
and
touched
the
checkered
plastic
of
a
pistolgrip
.
'
Hey
,
Case
,
’
she
said
,
barely
voicing
the
words
,
'
you
listening
?
Tell
you
a
story
.
.
.
Had
me
this
boy
once
.
You
kinda
remind
me
.
.
.
’
She
turned
and
surveyed
the
corridor
.
'
Johnny
,
his
name
was
.
’
The
low
,
vaulted
hallway
was
lined
with
dozens
of
museum
cases
,
archaic
-
looking
glass
-
fronted
boxes
made
of
brown
wood
.
They
looked
awkward
there
,
against
the
organic
curves
of
the
hallway
’
s
walls
,
as
though
they
’
d
been
brought
in
and
set
up
in
a
line
for
some
forgotten
purpose
.
Dull
brass
fixtures
held
globes
of
white
light
at
ten
-
meter
intervals
.
The
floor
was
uneven
,
and
as
she
set
off
along
the
corridor
,
Case
realized
that
hundreds
of
small
rugs
and
carpets
had
been
put
down
at
random
.
In
some
places
,
they
were
six
deep
,
the
floor
a
soft
patchwork
of
handwoven
wool
.
Molly
paid
little
attention
to
the
cabinets
and
their
contents
,
which
irritated
him
.
He
had
to
satisfy
himself
with
her
disinterested
glances
,
which
gave
him
fragments
of
pottery
antique
weapons
,
a
thing
so
densely
studded
with
rusted
nails
that
it
was
unrecognizable
,
frayed
sections
of
tapestry
.
'
My
Johnny
,
see
,
he
was
smart
,
real
flash
boy
.
Started
out
as
a
stash
on
Memory
Lane
,
chips
in
his
head
and
people
paid
to
hide
data
there
.
Had
the
Yak
after
him
,
night
I
met
him
,
and
I
did
for
their
assassin
.
More
luck
than
anything
else
but
I
did
for
him
.
And
after
that
,
it
was
tight
and
sweet
,
Case
.
’
Her
lips
barely
moved
.
He
felt
her
form
the
words
,
he
didn
’
t
need
to
hear
them
spoken
aloud
.
'
We
had
a
set
-
up
with
a
squid
,
so
we
could
read
the
traces
of
everything
he
’
d
ever
stored
.
Ran
it
all
out
on
tape
and
started
twisting
selected
clients
,
ex
-
clients
.
I
was
bagman
,
muscle
,
watchdog
.
I
was
real
happy
.
You
ever
been
happy
,
Case
?
He
was
my
boy
.
We
worked
together
.
Partners
.
I
was
maybe
eight
weeks
out
of
the
puppet
house
when
I
met
him
.
.
.
’
She
paused
,
edged
around
a
sharp
turn
,
and
continued
.
More
of
the
glossy
wooden
cases
,
their
sides
a
color
that
reminded
him
of
cockroach
wings
.
'
Tight
,
sweet
,
just
ticking
along
,
we
were
.
Like
nobody
could
ever
touch
us
.
I
wasn
’
t
going
to
let
them
.
Yakuza
.
I
guess
,
they
still
wanted
Johnny
’
s
ass
.
’
Cause
I
’
d
killed
their
man
.
’
Cause
Johnny
’
d
burned
them
.
And
the
Yak
,
they
can
afford
to
move
so
fucking
slow
,
man
,
they
’
ll
wait
years
and
years
.
Give
you
a
whole
life
,
just
so
you
’
ll
have
more
to
lose
when
they
come
and
take
it
away
.
Patient
like
a
spider
.
Zen
spiders
.
'
I
didn
’
t
know
that
,
then
.
Or
if
I
did
.
I
figured
it
didn
’
t
apply
to
us
.
Like
when
you
’
re
young
,
you
figure
you
’
re
unique
.
I
was
young
.
Then
they
came
,
when
we
were
thinking
we
maybe
had
enough
to
be
able
to
quit
,
pack
it
in
,
go
to
Europe
maybe
.
Not
that
either
of
us
knew
what
we
’
d
do
there
,
with
nothing
to
do
.
But
we
were
living
fat
.
Swiss
orbital
accounts
and
a
crib
full
of
toys
and
furniture
.
Takes
the
edge
off
your
game
.
'
So
that
first
one
they
’
d
sent
,
he
’
d
been
hot
.
Reflexes
like
you
never
saw
,
implants
,
enough
style
for
ten
ordinary
hoods
.
But
the
second
one
,
he
was
.
I
dunno
,
like
a
monk
.
Cloned
.
Stone
killer
from
the
cells
on
up
.
Had
it
in
him
,
death
,
this
silence
,
he
gave
it
off
in
a
cloud
.
.
.
’
Her
voice
trailed
off
as
the
corridor
split
,
identical
stairwells
descending
.
She
took
the
left
.
