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remembered the vampires, the werewolves, the kids born without souls, all the
other birth defects around the Devonshire dump. Getting outside the site
didn't necessarily free you from it. Were that so, I wouldn't have had to make
this trip in the first place.
Midday traffic was a lot thinner than the usual morning madness. I was more
than twice as far from my
Westwood office in the Confederal Building as I was when I left from my flat,
but I didn't need any more time to get there than I do on my normal commute. I
slid into my reserved parking space (penalty for unauthorized use, a hundred
crowns or an extra year for your soul in purgatory, or both judge's
discretion: he thinks you won't rate purgatory, he'll just fine you), then
walked inside.
if
The elevator shaft smelt of almond oil. At the bottom was a virgin parchment
inscribed with the words
GOMERT and KAILOETH and the sigil of the demon Khil, who has control over some
of the spirits of the air (he can also cause earthquakes, and so is a useful
spirit to know in Angels City). The almond oil is part of the paste that
summons him, the other ingredients being olive oil, dust from dose by a
coffin, and the brain of a dunghill cock. "Seventh floor," I said, and was
lifted up.
As soon as I got into the office, I called Charlie Kelly He listened while I
told him what I'd found, then said, "Nice piece of work, Dave. That confirms
and amplifies the information I'd already received Co to work on that warrant
right away."
"I will," I promised I know just the judge: I'll take the information over to
qadi
Ruhollah. He's about the strictest man in A.C. when it comes to environmental
damage." I chuckled. For that matter, he's a rigorist on just about
everything Maximum Ruhollah, we call him out here."
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"Sounds like the fellow we need, all right," Kelly said "Anything else?"
I started to say no, but had to think better of it. There is one other thing,
as a matter of fact
Sudakis the dump manager wondered how you'd heard something new might be wrong
at his place when no one out here had a clue. I couldn't give him an answer,
but it made me curious, too."
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As it had once or twice when he'd called me at home, the silence stretched
longer than imp relay could account for by itself. Finally Charlie said, "A
bird told me, you might say."
"A little bird, right?" I started to laugh. "Charlie, I stopped believing in
that little bird about the same time
I found out the stork only brings changelings."
"However you want it," he said. That's all I can tell you, and more than I
ought to."
I thought about pushing some more, but decided not to. People back in D.C. are
supposed to have good sources; they justify the fancy salaries mat come out of
your purse and mine by knowing what s going on all over the country and how to
find out about it even if the people who are doing it don't want it found out
But I was still moderately graveled that somebody a continent away had picked
up on something I hadn't heard the first thing about right in my own backyard
"Get the warrant, Dave," Charlie said "We'll go from there, depending on what
we learn."
"Right," I said, and hung up. Then I grabbed a sandwich and a cup of coffee at
the little cafeteria in the building. They perfectly balanced virtue and vice:
they were lousy but cheap. Lousy or not, my stomach stopped growling. I made
another phone call.
The phone on the other end must have yammered for quite a while, because I
listened to my imp drumming his fingers on the inside of the handset until at
last I got an answer. "Hand-of-Glory Press, Judith Adler speaking."
"Hi, Judy its Dave."
"Oh, hi, Dave." I thought her voice went from businesslike to warm, but with
two phone imps between us I had a hard time being sure. "Sorry I took so long
to pick up there. I was in the middle of a tough passage, and I wanted to get
to the end of a sentence so I could be sure I wouldn't miss even a single word
when I went back to it."
"Don't apologize," I said "Doing what you do, you have to be careful."
Hand-of-Glory Press, as you'd guess from the name, publishes grimoires of all
sorts, from simple ones on carpet maintenance up to the special secret sort
with olive-drab covers
. Judy's their number one proofreader and copy editor. She's the most
intensely detail-minded person I know, and she needs to be.
An error in a grimoire on flying carpets might end you up in Boston, Oregon,
instead of Boston, Mass.
An error in a military magic manual might leave you dead, or worse.
She said, "So what's up?"
"Feel like going out to dinner with me tonight?" I asked. "I ran into
something interesting today, and I
wouldn't mind hearing what you mink of it" Knowing someone who can see not
only forest and trees but also count leaves is wonderful. Being in love with
her is even better.
"Sure," she said. "Meet at your place after work? I ought to be able to get
there before six."
"You'll probably beat me there, then, the way traffic on St James has been
lately," I told her.
"Sounds good."
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There's a new Hanese place a few blocks away that I want to try."
"Sounds good to me, too. You know how much I like Hanese food"
"See you tonight, then. Now I'll let you get back to what you were doing.
"Bye."
I went back to work, too, although my mind wasn't really on the main project
that currently infested my desk. A couple of days before, a big carpet
carrying fumigants had overturned in an accident, spilling finely ground [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]