Звезда Пандоры

“I cannot desert my comrades. You should not ask me this. I watched my best friend die in front of me; I have lost many others. Now you say it was for nothing.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What are you going to do?” he countered. “Will you try and stop me returning to my comrades? I will not let your security people interrogate me.”

“Calm down,” she said hurriedly. “Nobody’s going to stop you leaving. I don’t want you to leave, but that’s the only chain around you: how much I love you, and don’t want to see you harmed.”

“I have been through many battles. I have no fear of my enemy.”

“God!” she growled through clenched teeth. “Men!”

He gave her a twitchy smile and rolled off the bed.

“Where are you going? You’re not going now?”

“I have to.” He shrugged, almost blushing. “I hadn’t expected to spend the night.”

She felt her own cheeks coloring at that. “I want you to spend every night here, Kazimir. I want every night to be like last night. I don’t do this anymore… Damnit, I thought… I didn’t think I could care for someone like this, not anymore. But you…”

“When this is over, when nothing lies between us, I will be yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Damnit.” Her eyes were watering.

“Don’t cry. I won’t have my beautiful angel cry for me. I’m not worth it.”

“You are. You are so worth it. You have no idea.”

He finished dressing, then held her for a long moment. “I will come back for you,” he promised gravely. “I swear it.”

She nodded, too exhausted emotionally and physically to do anything else. After a while, with fresh tears running freely down her cheeks, she placed a call to Alic Hogan at his Paris office.

…

It started raining an hour before dawn, cold drops splattering down on the cobbles to form grubby rivulets racing down the gutters. Tired, miserable, and hungry, Mellanie stood in a doorway three down from Paula Myo’s Paris apartment as the sun rose, exposing the narrow street to a gray shading that belonged to the Middle Ages. The time-bowed wooden lintel above her was dripping steadily on her head, wrecking her expensive hairstyle. There had been no time for her to prepare properly; she knew Alessandra wouldn’t allow her a second longer than the two days unless she got a real story. So her jacket collar was turned up in a grim attempt to keep some of the cold out, because the 1950s party dress she wore under it was certainly no good for that. Both feet were soaking inside her handstitched Italian leather shoes, which were now ruined.

The early-morning monotony was occasionally broken by a civic GPbot rolling past her. By six o’clock people had started using the street. She received a few curious glances. Their eyes soon slid away, deciding she was some hooker waiting for her pimp or pusher after a bad night.

Close, she told their backs as they hurried away.

At half past seven Paula Myo walked out onto the street. She wore a long raincoat, unbuttoned to show her usual business suit; her feet were protected by calf-high booshide boots, and she switched on a plyplastic umbrella stick that flowed out into a wide black mushroom shape.

Mellanie waited until the woman had almost reached the end of the street, and left the scant cover of the doorway. Her virtual vision displayed a simple map of the area. As she’d expected, Myo was walking to the nearest Metro station. She kept twenty meters or so behind her, trying not to be too obvious. The wider streets had some traffic and pedestrians, making cover easier. Headlights cast bright reflection ribbons on the black tarmac, while their tires produced a thin dirty spray. The smell of fresh-baked bread emerged from patisseries that were opening their doors. Mellanie’s stomach growled from the temptation.

Ahead of her Myo turned a corner. Mellanie hurried forward. When she turned the corner, the Metro station sign gleamed brightly fifty meters ahead. Myo had vanished.

“Where…” Mellanie scanned around. The woman hadn’t crossed to the other side of the road. None of the shops were open, so she couldn’t have hidden inside anywhere. “Damnit.” In her mind the plan had been perfect: follow Myo to wherever she was working. That would give a clue what she was working on for the Burnellis, or even if it was the Burnellis. Whatever, it would give her enough interesting questions for Alessandra to keep her on Myo.

“You would make a dreadful field operative.”

“Huh.” Mellanie spun around.

Myo was standing there, umbrella held straight, giving her a quizzical look. “It is illegal to run search programs through restricted city listings. Paul Cramley, the hacker you used to gain access, is old enough to know that.”

“What are you going to do, arrest us?”

“No. He will have a formal charge filed against him. It will probably result in a fine and confiscation of his equipment.”

“Bitch!”

“He broke the law. So have you. Being a reporter does not place you above the law, Ms. Rescorai. You have to obey the rules like every other citizen, however inconvenient that is to your so-called profession.”