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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] He watched the door close behind her, stood still for a moment, then gave a little start. Did it seem warmer in the room, now that she was gone? [ Another one of your mysterious errands?" he asked He sat up and shaded his eyes against the sun that through the foggy window over the mattress on which he lay, wrapped in a yellowed sheet almost thin enough to see blinking sleep from his eyes. He combed his tousled hair with fingers, smelling the coffee she'd made, thinking it was going to a fine day. Already hot, though. His memories of the nightmare the Pleb Psychosis had faded, for which he was profoundly Page 41 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html She paused by the door, turned, smiled. "You know rent isn't high enough. You've been here what--almost a now?. Okay, buddy. See that cook unit? Hasn't worked came here. You say you're some kind of electronics genius? that puppy." She glanced down at her brace link her bracelet computer link. In her case, Jim knew she wasn't linked to a axe, but to the Public Web available to anybody, but used by Plebs because it was free. "I'll be back before lunchtime. I found a neat little place." grinned. "My treat, of course." Jim grinned back, but uneasily. He couldn't recall what been going though his mind as he'd picked through the wreckage of the cabin while he stocked his bag, but one thing he sure hadn brought: cash money. But then, why should he have? It was such an... archaic.." thing to consider. He wasn't broke, of course. Not technically. In fact, his credit account, which he could access simply by speaking his codes into his own brace link was pretty plump. He'd been stuffing it for years with the proceeds of his part-time, freelance data-sniffing business. He wondered how many would come to kill him this time, if he so much as tried to lay a finger on that money. "We gotta talk, Cat," he told her. This isn't right, me freeloading on you this way." "When I get tired of it, you'll be the first to know. I promise." She squinched her right eye and tapped her cheek in mock concentration. "Just fix the cook unit, and try to stay out of trouble till I get back. Then we'll talk, okay?." He nodded. She closed the door carefully behind her. It locked with an audible click, and Jim wondered what she'd done to the normally flimsy lock. Well, he was certainly in no position to pry, but there was without a doubt something awfully odd about Ms. Cat Thibaudeaux, lately arrived from someplace else she wouldn't talk about. A mystery in search of an enigma. As if he didn't have a full plate of that kind of stuff already. He flopped back and stretched, then swept the sheet off his naked body, did a half flip that put him on his feet, and padded softly over to the pot of still-steaming coffee. Another mystery. It wasn't synthetic coffee, but the real thing. A of of money... Well, maybe after they talked, he'd have a better idea of what was what. In the meantime, he could make a little headway on figuring out the rest of it. The really scary stuff. He even managed to think this without seeing a picture of Carl, dead in his arms. At least not right away. It was an improvement. By the time she came back, he had the innards of the cook unit spread out on the tabletop next to his makeshift tool kit. "This is junk," he told her as he poked at a corroded bit of electronic riot sam with a bent fork. "Hey a fork," she replied. "Pretty sophisticated tly flimsy lock. Well, he was certainly in no position to pry, but there was without a doubt something awfully odd about Ms. Cat Thibaudeaux, lately arrived from someplace else she wouldn't talk about. A mystery in search of an enigma. As if he didn't have a full plate of that kind of stuff already. He flopped back and stretched, then swept the sheet off his naked body, did a half flip that put him on his feet, and padded softly over to the pot of still-steaming coffee. Another mystery. It wasn't synthetic coffee, but the real thing. A of of money... Well, maybe after they talked, he'd have a better idea of what was what. In the meantime, he could make a little headway on figuring out the rest of it. The really scary stuff. He even managed to think this without seeing a picture of Carl, dead in his arms. At least not right away. It was an improvement. By the time she came back, he had the innards of the cook unit spread out on the tabletop next to his makeshift tool kit. "This is junk," he told her as he poked at a corroded bit of electronic riot sam with a bent fork. "Hey a fork," she replied. "Pretty sophisticated tools there, Mr. Smith." "Unfortunately, I left my good repair kit in my other he told her. "I kinda guessed," she replied, as she slid into the chair and placed a greasy paper bag down in front of him. He his nose. It smelled delicious. "Fresh doughnuts," she told him. "And some bagels and cheese. Don't thank me all at once, now." She eyed him carefully. He had no idea---or at least she think he did--but the time since she'd met him was aboutl strangest period she'd spent in years. And she still couldn't up her mind: was he some kind of trap, or not? Jim pushed the tangle of metal and chips and plastic away a disgusted wheeze. "Huh, forget it. I can't fuit. Do I still doughnut?" She shoved the paper bag across. He dug around, pulled out, said, "All right! Crumb cake, my favorite!," and took fist-sized pastry in one bite. Page 42 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "And good manners, too," Cat told him. "Everything I like in a He nodded, cheeks puffed, jaws working. "Mmph, umph?" "What?" "I... uh... waitaminna--there. Okay. So, Cat, where do go when you won't tell me where you go?" She tipped her head back. What makes you think I'll tell now, when I haven't before?" He leaned against the back of the chair and crossed his over his chest. He was not unaware this made his biceps larger than they actually were. "Well, 'cause I thought I'd few trades. You probably noticed I haven't had much to either?." He thought that came out sounding nicely strong, silent, even maybe sophisticated. He watched the pink tip of her tongue dart out, just a flash, touch the top of her bottom lip. The fleeting glimpse sent one of those pleasantly annoying tingles rustling up his spine. She said, "What, Mister Stone? Mister Clam? You, reticent?" winked.. "Not that it matters, though." "What's that supposed to mean?" "You may think you're being all discreet and strong and but you're about as easy a read as the funnyvids." "Huh? Not possible, Cat lady. You're guessing, is all." "Oh? Then try this for a guess." She touched the side of her then poked one finger up. "First. You're not a Pleb, never been. Which means you're a runaway, because you are too to be out on your own--at least in your class of people. d--" She raised another finger. "Whatever you're running from is pretty nasty, 'cause you wake me up with your nightmares. Third, you don't have any idea what you're gonna do, because it is obvious to me you're clueless." She smiled, to take a little of the sting away. Still wondering about him, though. "And, number four: you would like to move from your side of the to my side just about more than anything in the world, and I that 'cause you blush whenever you look at me and you think I can't see you. Just like you are now." "Now I'm embarrassed," he told her. She grinned complacently. "Go on, am I right, or am I right?" He shrugged, his cheeks in flames. "Well, maybe about the last part." "About the rest of it, too, Il bet." She snatched back the bag of pastries. "Blush all you want, but don't hog my breakfast, buddy." She fished out a bagel, broke off a tiny piece, and nibbled it delicately. "So," she said. "How about you? What do you think you've figured out about me? And wipe that stupid grin off your face. You look like you're gonna start drooling any minute now." He grabbed another doughnut to mask his disconcertment. So what exactly had he figured out about her?. He bit down and chewed thoughtfully. "Well, you're mysterious. I think you're about my age, maybe a little older--but you are a Pleb. So I don't know exactly what you being on your own means, except it's probably different than for somebody like me." She nodded slowly. Encouraged, he continued. "You go places and don't tell me, and you seem to have all the money you need both kinds, underground cash, and legal chip credits "Well, at least you're reasonably observant." "Thanks, Mata Hari." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |