Tze guided him over to the elevator stack as the doors parted, and the crowd burst into a round of rapturous applause. A cluster of men emerged and parted to let the executive make a gesture of presentation. “Francis,” he smiled, “may I introduce you to Miss Juno Qwan?”
Her perfect eyes met his as she stepped from the lift and Frankie’s heart skipped a beat. “Hello.” He felt a spark of attraction flash between them.
“Francis,” she said, smiling like a supernova, extending her hand. “Dance with me?”
Tze left Lam and the singer to fall into one another and passed Hi with a curt nod. The woman had done well, once again turning a problem into an advantage. He would have to keep Hi on a tighter leash, less she begin to entertain thoughts above her station. The three girls he had chosen for his comfort tonight smiled at him from the shaded table where he had left them.
Deer Child approached. The Mask had a woman in his grip, half-guiding, half-dragging her. “Sir.”
“Is there a problem?” He turned an appraising eye on the girl. She had a lean, wolfish look in her eyes, and he saw immediately that all her clothes were cheap street copies of current trendsetters. He smelt greed and fear on her, and there in her eyes was the telltale glint of blue.
Deer Child handed him a silver smartcard. “There appears to be an anomaly with this young lady’s invite, sir.”
Tze turned the card over in his hand. The code was well past expiry. “What is your name?” he asked the girl.
She flashed him a sultry look, cool and practised. “Nikita.”
He smiled slightly. “I once knew an assassin with that name. Are you here to hurt me, Nikita?”
“Only if you want me to,” she whispered.
Tze’s smile broadened. The girl was putting everything she had into it. He handed the card back to the guardian. “I see no problem here. Bring the young lady a drink at my table.” He offered her his arm. “Join me?”
“I’d love to,” said Nikita, and followed him into the shadows. http://junofans.rwb.vnet/r584923921/chatroom_enable
Halo_kisser Has Entered The Chat Room.
Junqfanl4342: hi halo
Rusty: hlo
Halo_kisser: hi yall
Goth*Lolita: it was preem
Goth*Lolita: I was nr teh guy who got her hat grrr. Missed it.
Goth*Lolita: Juno looked sooooo good. I [heart] her!
Halo_kisser: u were there? OMG OMG sooo jealous!
Rusty: G*L lives in Honk Kong
Rusty: sorry Hong Kong [grin]
Goth*Lolita: number 1 fangirl!
Junofanl4342: how did JQ look? She not on ZBC Pulse.
Goth*Lolita: beautiful!
Rusty: did u see pix from airport? She was v. moody
Halo_kisser: not. How would u feel after NO crazeeness?
Rusty: seem weird 2 me.
Goth*Lolita: everything weird 2 you rusty!
Junofanl4342: yeh rusty sez secret messages on junos discs!
Rusty: TRUE
Halo_kisser: is not, you R looped, rusty!
Goth*Lolita: I posted pictures from my eyecam on my site-[link]
Junofan14342: cool. Swipe 4 my wallscreen!
Rusty: did ne1 read netfeeds about NO concert? Mad reports off samizdata grids
Junofan14342: [frown] that stuff is jagged, rusty! Illegal u should not read!
Rusty: just want to know about juno
I_Witness Has Entered The Chat Room.
Goth*Lolita: was ne1 at NO concert?
I_Witness: me. I was there w my sister
Junofanl4342: bet it was good
I_Witness: r u high? Concert was psycho! They freaked us out!!!
Rusty: I heard it was AAAA screw w lasers
Goth*Lolita: yeh they h8 all j-pop
I_Witness: not AAAA. Thatz bull[censored]! I saw monsters in there!!! My sister is coma’ed!!!
I_Witness: corp cops told us to be quiet!! It was insan@\~}{*%?$?… .
I_Witness Has Been Suspended.
RWB_Moderator Has Entered The Chat Room.
RWB_Moderator: Hello, friends! Please don’t be alarmed, but our records have flagged the user identity [chatname-I_Witness] as a known alias for a convicted sexcriminal.
Junofanl4342: OMG! pedo!
Rusty: WTF?
RWB_Moderator: Because of this intrusion, this chat room must now be closed for a reboot. Please feel free to log on again at the central JunoFans nexus. We apologise for any inconvenience. Juno thanks for your friendship!
Halo_kisser: w8 stop what about http://junofans.rwb.vnet/r584923921/chatroom_TERMINATED
7. Sex and Zen
The red taxi hurtled along Nathan Road at a speed that seemed far faster than was sensible. On the dashboard, a warning clicker snapped at the driver like an angry cicada. The small man behind the wheel had stuck a piece of adhesive tape over the illuminated display that read “Slow Down Now!”
Fixx took it in his stride, at every intersection where the chorus of horns serenaded the wild turns the driver made. On the sunshade there was a photo of the diminutive cabbie in his younger years, grinning out from under a Kevlar army helmet on the bonnet of a burnt-out North Korean jeep.
The blocky cityscape of Kowloon seemed to go on forever, flat towers of pastel-painted apartment blocks and multi-level shopping plexes crowding in over the street. He peered up through the plastic bubble roof. The gaps between the buildings were festooned with huge signs folded out like clipper sails, some of them holographic but most made from steel plate and old-fashioned neon tubing. The riotous glow of advertising vanished up into the night sky. Here and there he could see where the uppermost levels were being used as apartments-long strings of washing dangling out, dropping soapy rain on the streets far below. According to the signs he could read, there were schools and churches up there too, even a public swimming baths. Most of the neon was directed at more commercial endeavours, though. At the ten to twenty floor mark there were restaurants, nightclubs, casinos and vircades; it was only on the levels that were in sight of the ground where the constant marketplaces of the megastores roared, day and night streaming out goods of every stripe. Fixx wondered where all the money came from, where all the purchases went. There were only so many consumers in this city, he imagined. The cab vaulted into a side road and down a narrow chasm between two massive city blocks. The constructs loomed overhead, layered with retrofitted floors in stripes like the layers of sediment in a rock face. The cab turned and turned again, jarring Fixx in his threadbare seat. He was having difficulty keeping track of where he was, the warren of alleys challenging his sense of direction.
The vehicle screeched to a halt in the sullen glow of a shuttered door. Fixx saw the street number he wanted over a caged lamp and he swiped a creditchip across the pay-sensor. The red car was gone before he reached the doorway.
The entrance led him downwards. The basement was uncharacteristically cool, a welcome change to the blood-warm Hong Kong night. He came across a thick hatch, the kind that submarines had to keep out the crushing pressures of the ocean. It spat out gusts of air and opened just as he was about to knock on it. Fixx ran a fingertip over the SunKings in their holsters, just to be sure, and entered. The first thing he noticed were the mixed scents; ozone, a faint whiff of old meat and cat piss.
“Hey, Fixx.” The voice was slow and agreeable. “Just hold still a moment.”
It was dim down here, hard to see anything beyond racks of skeletal metal shelves and the giant seedpod shapes of NeoSoviet bio-matter processors. Fixx noticed a wall of stripped TFT screens, some of them showing television channels, others with grainy feeds from street cameras. An emerald laser fanned the room, washing across him.
“Say something,” said the voice.
“How’s retirement treatin’ you, Lucy?”