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'
This
th
’
way
,
mon
?
’
Maelcum
eyed
the
door
and
snapped
the
shotgun
’
s
safety
.
'
Hey
,
’
Case
said
,
more
to
himself
than
to
Maelcum
,
'
you
think
I
know
?
’
The
Braun
rotated
its
spherical
body
and
the
LED
strobed
.
'
It
wan
’
you
open
door
,
’
Maelcum
said
,
nodding
.
Case
stepped
forward
and
tried
the
ornate
brass
knob
.
There
was
a
brass
plate
mounted
on
the
door
at
eye
level
,
so
old
that
the
lettering
that
had
once
been
engraved
there
had
been
reduced
to
a
spidery
,
unreadable
code
,
the
name
of
some
long
dead
function
or
functionary
,
polished
into
oblivion
.
He
wondered
vaguely
if
Tessier
-
Ashpool
had
selected
each
piece
of
Straylight
individually
,
or
if
they
’
d
purchased
it
in
bulk
from
some
vast
European
equivalent
of
Metro
Holografix
.
The
door
’
s
hinges
creaked
plaintively
as
he
edged
it
open
,
Maelcum
stepping
past
him
with
the
Remington
thrust
forward
from
his
hip
.
'
Books
,
’
Maelcum
said
.
The
library
,
the
white
steel
shelves
with
their
labels
.
'
I
know
where
we
are
,
’
Case
said
.
He
looked
back
at
the
service
cart
.
A
curl
of
smoke
was
rising
from
the
carpet
.
'
So
come
on
,
’
he
said
.
'
Cart
.
Cart
?
’
It
remained
stationary
.
The
Braun
was
plucking
at
the
leg
of
his
jeans
,
nipping
at
his
ankle
.
He
resisted
a
strong
urge
to
kick
it
.
'
Yeah
?
’
It
ticked
its
way
around
the
door
.
He
followed
it
.
The
monitor
in
the
library
was
another
Sony
,
as
old
as
the
first
one
.
The
Braun
paused
beneath
it
and
executed
a
sort
of
jig
.
