Mardock Scramble полностью

The walls were dotted with paintings—valuable enough that there would have been plenty of people glad even for just their frames.

Boiled stood in front of the door he’d come for. He knocked using the brass knocker—antique, analog, no cheap digital electronic intercom here—and the door opened immediately to reveal Shell in a smart suit.

“Come in, Boiled!” He smiled sharply and beckoned for Boiled to enter.

A pleasant voice bubbled forth from the adjoining room.

“Over here! Come and have a look at this!”

They entered the bedroom, where a girl was bouncing up and down on a double bed, giggling. She looked to be about twenty. Her blonde hair had probably been arranged neatly at some point in the evening, but now it was straggled across her face.

The woman saw the two entering and stopped laughing. Standing on top of the bed, she cried out—Ah!—in a loud voice, as if to tell them something. Watching this, Shell burst into a low chuckle himself.

“A proper airhead,” he said, and sat down on the sofa. “Let me introduce you. This is Ms. Octavia, aka Ms. Eyes Wide Shut—the hidden shame of a famous family. She’s the daughter of one of OctoberCorp’s directors, but she’s not quite up to the task… In other words, she’s defective goods and won’t ever find a buyer. Her existence was supposed to have been top secret, but I discovered her and let the cat out of the bag, and now I get to keep her.”

The girl shouted something through her laughter. It could have been the name of a TV show, or some snacks that she wanted, or even a person’s name—neither Shell nor Boiled had any idea what she had just said or what she wanted.

“She’s the physical embodiment of my business plan. I borrowed her for about half an hour so that you could see her face. My glorious wife!”

“When’s the ceremony?” asked Boiled.

“We sign contracts at the end of the month. It would have been earlier too, if it hadn’t been for that pesky trial.”

Then Shell’s tone of voice changed, just as when a comedian suddenly turned to a serious part of his set. “By the way, Boiled—on another matter, I seem to remember I’d asked you to take care of a little business for me.”

Eyes still fixed on the girl, Boiled answered softly. “There was more to it than I imagined.”

“More than you imagined? How?” asked Shell.

“They’re using every trick up their sleeve to obstruct us. They’ve fortified their client; she’s battle-ready. We should now think of her as another member of the opposition, not just as a civilian.”

“What does all that mean?”

“She’s now a competent adversary,” said Boiled.

“You make it sound like you’ve been in a war!”

“Not that far off, actually.”

Boiled turned from the girl to Shell. Shell’s expression had changed completely.

“Well, then, let’s have some battlefield reports from the mighty Mr. Boiled!” Shell’s eyes were tinged with a harsh light.

“I wounded an opposition PI. I know where he’s being treated. I’ll be heading there shortly.”

“Marvelous. You’ll be the nuclear warhead that blasts them to pieces. And you’ll also tidy up the mushroom cloud and the black rain that falls afterwards, right?”

“Except there’s one thing that’s somewhat unusual.”

“Unusual? Give it a break,” Shell waved his hand dismissively, but behind his angry face there was a glimpse of a different emotion peeking through. “Everything’s unusual these days. The girl that should have died in my dreams is alive, accusing me of crimes that I can’t even remember committing. I’m in the middle of a huge deal and I’m being held back. And? Has the girl decided to leave me alone in order to run for office, because she needs to focus on her campaign for president of the Commonwealth or something?”

“There was an unusual petition filed at the Broilerhouse.”

“Ach, there’s always something unusual down there in the amazing world of the Broilerhouse. Unusual petitions are probably more common than usual ones down there.”

“Blank sheets of paper have been submitted as the indictment sheets for the next trial,” said Boiled.

“Their usual trick of not publishing the charges until the last minute in order to throw us off, right?” asked Shell.

“If it’s just a bluff then all’s well and good. But there’s a possibility that they’re in the middle of a new investigation now, even as we speak.”

Shell stopped in his tracks, and his expression was wiped off his face.

“I don’t know how they’re managing it exactly, but it’s not impossible that the opposition is looking for the key to your impending big deal,” Boiled informed him in a whisper.

Shell’s eyes started shining even more fiercely.

“So, Mr. Shell, where exactly is the key?” asked Boiled.

“You don’t need to know that.” Shell’s expression was grim, but there was a wobble in his voice.

Their conversation was interrupted by a shrill shriek of pleasure. The girl seemed to be delighted by Shell’s fear.

“Shut up!” Shell cried. But the girl wouldn’t stop laughing.