about again, until the shadowy glow from the street told her that this was only the recycling collector's cart out in the back alley. It was now well past dawn. Robin got up and walked stiffly about the apartment, back and forth. Her legs felt heavy and leaden and her head was furry with lack of sleep; when the videolink sounded, she sat and stared at it for a moment before springing to answer.
"Yes?"
A thin, ascetic face appeared on the little screen. "Citizen Yuan?" it said with faint distaste.
"That's me."
"Giris Sardai. Deveth's father."
"Oh." Robin felt hollow inside, as though her stay of execution was over, but the voice was cool and polite.
"I'm looking for my daughter," Giris Sardai said. "I understand she's a friend of yours." A brief expression of bemusement crossed his features, as though he couldn't understand why this should be.
"She is, yes," said Robin cautiously. "But I haven't seen her for a week. I'm afraid I don't know where she is."
Giris Sardai was silent. The black eyes bored into Robin's own. At last, Deveth's father said, "My wife and I would like you to visit us. Discuss the matter further"—as if this were simply a business proposition and not a question of a missing daughter. His tone made it apparent that this was not open to choice.
"I—that is, I've got to go to work."
"Yes, I'm aware of that." Sardai was patient, as if reasoning with a child.
"Well, when?" Robin asked, feeling feeble and hating herself for it.
"This afternoon would be convenient. I'll talk to your employer. Paugeng, isn't it? Very well. I'll send a car."
And before Robin had a chance to speak, the system closed. Robin, wondering, dressed and left to catch the downtown tram.
She got into Paugeng early that morning, the unreliable tram running like clockwork this time. It seemed much later, the result of rising at dawn. She found Mhara still sleeping. One arm sprawled above his head; the gentle face seemed vulnerable and, somehow, younger. Robin did not want to wake him. Instead, she went to sit at the edge of the cot. His fingers were bound up, as usual. Robin wondered: Why doesn't he try to free them? The dangerous clawed hands were limp in sleep.
"What the hell is going on?" Robin whispered, consulting her sleeping oracle. "Can you tell me?"
The blue eyes opened suddenly. The face was one she did not know: animal and alive. Then the experiment was yawning. There was no reproach in his face for waking him up.
"Did you say something?" he asked politely.
"No," Robin whispered.
"Then I must have been dreaming," the experiment said, and smiled. They ran through the tests and checks in silence and then Robin tidied the lab. She wanted to establish some degree of order, somewhere.
Jhai paid her a visit halfway through the morning.
"Could I have a quick word, Robin? Thanks." Her face was calm, concerned, neutral.
"I had a call from Giris Sardai," Jhai said. "He wants to see you—did he call?"
"This morning. He said he'd speak to you and that he'll send a car. Is that okay? I'm really sorry, Madam Tserai—Jhai. I didn't know how to refuse."
"It's all right, Robin. It's not your fault. I told him we'd be glad to help. I gather there's a problem? Their daughter's missing—your friend?" Robin nodded, dumbly. Jhai purred, "That's such a worry. But you mustn't let it upset you. I'm sure everything's going to be fine."
"I'm sorry I'm taking time off—" Robin began again.
"It isn't a problem. George Su can cover, it's just an afternoon and you've got the link if anything happens, haven't you? Anyway, I won't be able to see you again today; I'm flying to Beijing later. So don't worry. Go and get this sorted out. And obviously, Robin, there's no wage payback, or anything. I'll square it." She left in a flurry of silks, leaving Robin standing in suspicious gratitude behind her. Jhai had been very decent, really. Jhai was always so sweet, and yet—there was always something so calculating behind it. Perhaps
"Yes?"
A thin, ascetic face appeared on the little screen. "Citizen Yuan?" it said with faint distaste.
"That's me."
"Giris Sardai. Deveth's father."
"Oh." Robin felt hollow inside, as though her stay of execution was over, but the voice was cool and polite.
"I'm looking for my daughter," Giris Sardai said. "I understand she's a friend of yours." A brief expression of bemusement crossed his features, as though he couldn't understand why this should be.
"She is, yes," said Robin cautiously. "But I haven't seen her for a week. I'm afraid I don't know where she is."
Giris Sardai was silent. The black eyes bored into Robin's own. At last, Deveth's father said, "My wife and I would like you to visit us. Discuss the matter further"—as if this were simply a business proposition and not a question of a missing daughter. His tone made it apparent that this was not open to choice.
"I—that is, I've got to go to work."
"Yes, I'm aware of that." Sardai was patient, as if reasoning with a child.
"Well, when?" Robin asked, feeling feeble and hating herself for it.
"This afternoon would be convenient. I'll talk to your employer. Paugeng, isn't it? Very well. I'll send a car."
And before Robin had a chance to speak, the system closed. Robin, wondering, dressed and left to catch the downtown tram.
She got into Paugeng early that morning, the unreliable tram running like clockwork this time. It seemed much later, the result of rising at dawn. She found Mhara still sleeping. One arm sprawled above his head; the gentle face seemed vulnerable and, somehow, younger. Robin did not want to wake him. Instead, she went to sit at the edge of the cot. His fingers were bound up, as usual. Robin wondered: Why doesn't he try to free them? The dangerous clawed hands were limp in sleep.
"What the hell is going on?" Robin whispered, consulting her sleeping oracle. "Can you tell me?"
The blue eyes opened suddenly. The face was one she did not know: animal and alive. Then the experiment was yawning. There was no reproach in his face for waking him up.
"Did you say something?" he asked politely.
"No," Robin whispered.
"Then I must have been dreaming," the experiment said, and smiled. They ran through the tests and checks in silence and then Robin tidied the lab. She wanted to establish some degree of order, somewhere.
Jhai paid her a visit halfway through the morning.
"Could I have a quick word, Robin? Thanks." Her face was calm, concerned, neutral.
"I had a call from Giris Sardai," Jhai said. "He wants to see you—did he call?"
"This morning. He said he'd speak to you and that he'll send a car. Is that okay? I'm really sorry, Madam Tserai—Jhai. I didn't know how to refuse."
"It's all right, Robin. It's not your fault. I told him we'd be glad to help. I gather there's a problem? Their daughter's missing—your friend?" Robin nodded, dumbly. Jhai purred, "That's such a worry. But you mustn't let it upset you. I'm sure everything's going to be fine."
"I'm sorry I'm taking time off—" Robin began again.
"It isn't a problem. George Su can cover, it's just an afternoon and you've got the link if anything happens, haven't you? Anyway, I won't be able to see you again today; I'm flying to Beijing later. So don't worry. Go and get this sorted out. And obviously, Robin, there's no wage payback, or anything. I'll square it." She left in a flurry of silks, leaving Robin standing in suspicious gratitude behind her. Jhai had been very decent, really. Jhai was always so sweet, and yet—there was always something so calculating behind it. Perhaps
Similar Books
The Zombie Saga (Book 3): Burn The Dead: Riot
Steven Jenkins
You Are a Writer
Jeff Goins, Sarah Mae
Sex Secrets of an American Geisha
Py Kim Conant
Broken Circle
John Shirley
Friday's Harbor
Diane Hammond
It's Not About the Bike: My Journey Back to Life
Lance Armstrong
How to Make Love to a Negro without Getting Tired
Dany Laferrière
Moonfeast
James Axler
Hopscotch Homicide (Zoe Donovan Mystery Book 16)
Kathi Daley
Trouble Won't Wait
Autumn Piper