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Ribofunk :: Филиппо Пол Ди
Страница: 53 из 156I hastily tookmy feet down off my desk and tried to project the image that I was busier than a four-armed bartender at happy hour.
The footsteps didn't go past my door, as so many had before. Instead, there came a knock.
I checked the security screen, liked what I saw, and said, "Come in." The door unlatched itself and swung open.
She had on a stylish suit in acidic purple and orange. The jacket had asymmetrical lapels trimmed with blue vat-grown mink; on the larger one was pinned an orchidenia that I could smell from six feet away. Her skirt hung down to her ankles on the left side, but revealed her whole right leg. She wore chrome chopines that added four inches to her height. Her black curly hair was piled high, with a blonde curl dangling down over her forehead. She had canary yellow irises and a small tight mouth. On one cheek she wore a small love cicatrix shaped like the astrological symbol for Venus.
"Please," she said, "could you cover the windows."
"Lady, we're on the fortieth floor-"
"You can't tell what optics are out there. Nanocams are everywhere these days. Please, do it."
I shrugged and spoke. "Shutters."
Sheets of opaque piezoplastic that had been curled up at the top of the windows stiffened down like tongues across the glass, under the impulse of a mild electric current. I boosted the lights.
"Have a seat," I offered. "Can I get you something to drink?"
She sat and crossed bare right leg over left. I saw the tattoon of a panther she wore on her outer upper thigh. Every thirty seconds it opened its mouth in a silent snarl.
"Yes, thank you. I'll have a Foma Froth, if you've got it."
I kicked the splice sleeping at my feet. "Hamster, wake up, we've got a visitor."
Hamster opened its eyes and blinked. It preened its whiskers and said, "Yes, sir, my help is needed now?"
"Damn right, you dumb trans. Get a cheer-beer for me, and a Foma Froth for the lady."
Hamster got up and adjusted its short tunic. It walked to the small magnetic fridge, got the drinks, served them, then asked, "Will that be all that is needful, sir?"
"Yeah, go back to sleep."
Hamster did just that.
"Cheapest transgenic they make," I apologized.
She waved her hand negligently. "No matter. My name is Geneva Hippenstiel Imhausen. May I see your licenses?"
I passed my ID card over. Showing topmost was my Massachusetts PI license. She repeatedly flexed the card to reveal my North American Union, EuroComm, IME, Brazilian, and orbital credentials.
The footsteps didn't go past my door, as so many had before. Instead, there came a knock.
I checked the security screen, liked what I saw, and said, "Come in." The door unlatched itself and swung open.
She had on a stylish suit in acidic purple and orange. The jacket had asymmetrical lapels trimmed with blue vat-grown mink; on the larger one was pinned an orchidenia that I could smell from six feet away. Her skirt hung down to her ankles on the left side, but revealed her whole right leg. She wore chrome chopines that added four inches to her height. Her black curly hair was piled high, with a blonde curl dangling down over her forehead. She had canary yellow irises and a small tight mouth. On one cheek she wore a small love cicatrix shaped like the astrological symbol for Venus.
"Please," she said, "could you cover the windows."
"Lady, we're on the fortieth floor-"
"You can't tell what optics are out there. Nanocams are everywhere these days. Please, do it."
I shrugged and spoke. "Shutters."
Sheets of opaque piezoplastic that had been curled up at the top of the windows stiffened down like tongues across the glass, under the impulse of a mild electric current. I boosted the lights.
"Have a seat," I offered. "Can I get you something to drink?"
She sat and crossed bare right leg over left. I saw the tattoon of a panther she wore on her outer upper thigh. Every thirty seconds it opened its mouth in a silent snarl.
"Yes, thank you. I'll have a Foma Froth, if you've got it."
I kicked the splice sleeping at my feet. "Hamster, wake up, we've got a visitor."
Hamster opened its eyes and blinked. It preened its whiskers and said, "Yes, sir, my help is needed now?"
"Damn right, you dumb trans. Get a cheer-beer for me, and a Foma Froth for the lady."
Hamster got up and adjusted its short tunic. It walked to the small magnetic fridge, got the drinks, served them, then asked, "Will that be all that is needful, sir?"
"Yeah, go back to sleep."
Hamster did just that.
"Cheapest transgenic they make," I apologized.
She waved her hand negligently. "No matter. My name is Geneva Hippenstiel Imhausen. May I see your licenses?"
I passed my ID card over. Showing topmost was my Massachusetts PI license. She repeatedly flexed the card to reveal my North American Union, EuroComm, IME, Brazilian, and orbital credentials.