Jennifer Morgue Read Online Free PDF Page A

acquisitions. But you really work for Angleton, don't you? So they must see something in you that I — " her suddenly jaundiced gaze takes in my jeans, somewhat elderly tee shirt, and fishing vest stuffed with geek toys " — don't."

    I try not to wilt too visibly. Okay, she's a player. That makes things easier — and harder, in a way. I swallow a mouthful of beer successfully this time. "So why don't you tell me who you are"

    "I just did. I'm Ramona and I'm not going to sleep with you."

    "Fine, Ramona-and-I'm-not-going-to-sleep-with-you.

    What are you? I mean, are you human? I can't tell, what with that glamour you're wearing, and that kind of thing makes me nervous."

    Sapphire eyes stare at me. "Keep guessing, monkey-boy."

    Oh, for fuck's sake — "Okay, I mean, who do you work for"

    "The Black Chamber. And I always wear this body on business. We've got a dress code, you know." The Black Chamber? My stomach lurches. I've had one runin with those guys, near the outset of my professional career, and everything I've learned since has taught me I was damned lucky to survive. "Who are you here to kill"

    She makes a faint moue of distaste. "I'm supposed to be working with you. I wasn't sent here to kill anyone."

    We're going in circles again. "Fine. You're going to work with me but you don't want to sleep with me in case I drop dead, Curse of the Mummy and all that. You're tooled up to vamp some poor bastard, but it's not me, and you seem to know who I am. Why don't you just cut the crap and explain what you're doing here, why the hell you're so jumpy, and what's going on"

    "You really don't know?" She stares at me. "I was told you'd been briefed."

    "Briefed?" I stare right back at her. "You've got to be kidding!

    I'm here for a committee meeting, not a live-action role-playing game."

    "Huh!" For a moment she looks puzzled. "You are here to attend the next session of the joint-liaison committee on cosmological incursions, aren't you"
    I nod, very slightly. The Auditors don't usually ask you what you didn't say, they're more interested in what you did say, and who you said it to.[1 Blabbing secrets to beautiful femme fetale agents is frowned upon, especially when they're not necessarily human.] "You're not on my briefing sheet."
    "I see." Ramona nods thoughtfully, then relaxes slightly.

    "Sounds like a regular fuck-up, then. Like I said, I was told we're going to be working together on a joint activity, starting with this meeting. For the purposes of this session I'm an accredited delegate, by the way."

    "You — " I bite my tongue, trying to imagine her in a committee room going over the seventy-six-page agenda.

    "You're a what"

    "I've got observer status. Tomorrow I'll show you my ward," she adds. (That clinches it. The wards are handed out to those of us who're assigned to the joint committee.) "You can show me yours. I'm sure you'll be briefed before that — afterward we'll have a lot more to talk about."

    "Just what — " I swallow " — are we supposed to be working on"

    She smiles. "Baccarat." She finishes her G&T and stands up with a swish of silk: "I'll be seeing you later, Robert.

    Until tonight..."

    I buy another beer to calm my rattled nerves and hunker down in a carnivorous leather sofa at the far side of the bar. When I'm sure the bartender isn't watching me I pull out my Treo, run a highly specialized program, and dial an office extension in London. The phone rings four times, then the voice mail picks it up. "Boss? Got a headache. A Black Chamber operative called Ramona showed up. She claims that we're supposed to be working together. What the hell's going on? I need to know." I hang up without bothering to wait for a reply. Angleton will be in around six o'clock London time, and then I'll get my answer. I sigh, which draws a dirty look from a pair of overdressed chancers at the next table. I guess they think I'm lowering the tone of the bar. A sense of acute loneliness comes crashing down.