Chapter 19
SANCTUM IS EXACTLY AS I remember it.
As the door behind us shuts, it cuts off the unpleasant blast of electronic beat, silencing it completely and replacing it with the soft notes of Bach.
A clear waterfall gushes into a pool in the centre of the vast room, holos of fish darting through the water, lighting it up wherever they go.
More holos of trees and gardens along the walls, the digiglass above displaying a permanent, clear dusk where the stars are just beginning to shine, but the rosy glow has yet to leave the western sky.
Three ten-foot-tall Argosi stand motionless at intervals behind thick security glass, almost hidden by the holos, watching with their dozens of creepy eyes.
Much less expensive than their more independent, EMP-ring-roaming biosec counterparts, but no less intimidating.
Bots circulate amongst the patrons. Humanoid and discreet.
Capable of security as well, but mainly there to dispense nostrums.
The people in this central area—there are probably a dozen of them—don’t even glance up at our entrance. Eyes unfocused as they recline on expensive-looking lounges. Most have vibrant pink light crawling along their veins, throbbing beneath the skin. It’s Neon night tonight, then.
Jasa stares around. “Huh.”
“Yeah.” I had a similar reaction, first time.
“Why the charade outside?”
“Marketing. Juxtaposing the harsh outside world with the haven of being in here, or something.” She looks at me. I shrug. “I think it’s from when this stuff used to be illegal. Gives it a certain vibe.”
“Alright. So why did you bring me here?”
“To one of the most secure buildings in Themis?”
“The most secure, actually,” corrects a growling, familiar feminine voice from behind me.
I paste on a smile. Turn to face the woman slinking toward us over the mirror-black floor.
Partly spiked, partly flowing long red hair frames a face and body that look barely twenty, though I know she’s at least twice that.
Her skin is lightly freckled, her long pink dress is tastefully sleek.
“Shart, dear. I barely recognised you. And you’ve brought a friend. How delightful.”
“Verity.” Her voice hasn’t changed, even if the rest of her has. I let her kiss both my cheeks, full lips lingering far too long, before nodding to her. “This looks expensive.”
She gives a smoky, coquettish laugh. “A couple of years old, now, darling. And you continue to cling to this battered old thing! I’m glad.
You always were so… sentimental.” Her finger traces down my arm in typical, overly familiar fashion.
“I know Neon is a bit beneath you, but I have a good supply of Yearn, or Coax, or Void. And some empty rooms upstairs. Or some occupied ones,” she purrs.
Jasa looks mildly concerned, and I can’t blame her.
Nostrums that increase the libido. Nostrums that decrease inhibition.
Nostrums that make you forget who you are, what you’ve done.
It’s all legal, but unlike the stuff they serve in the shops out there, very restricted.
You need to be licensed to sell it. It’s why we had to sign waivers to get in here.
“Can’t stay, I’m afraid.” That old pull, even if it’s not for anything Verity just mentioned.
The gut-punch tug of remembering exactly why I used to come here.
The revs keep me balanced. Physical resistances high.
Mind razor sharp. It’s still harder than it should be.
“But the lovely Twenty here could use a Cold Room for a few hours.”
Verity’s gaze flickers to de Alwes. Flashing with naked curiosity as it returns to me.
She’s already figured out I’m working, otherwise she would have just called me Azure and not bothered with the performative flirtation.
She arches an eyebrow, managing to make even that insinuate something intimate.
“Do I want to know?” asks Jasa. A pink fish flits across her face. The last notes of “Air on the G String” punctuate her discomfort.
“Private room. No cams, no face recog, no drones. Olfactory bios to make sure there are no illegal nostrums being used, but that’s all.”
Her brow somehow crinkles further. “And you will be…”
“Enjoying myself.” She looks apoplectic. “Elsewhere, sadly. I have things I need to check out.”
“Things?”
“Dangerous things.”
“So you’re going to leave me here.”
“I knew you’d be pleased.” Jasa looks distinctly otherwise. I smile broadly.
Verity smiles too. Acting oblivious, though she’s anything but. “Twenty! Don’t you worry your pretty head. We’re going to show you a time.” She slings an arm around my shoulder and leans her head against my neck with a sigh. “And how long a time will we be showing her, my love?”
I kiss her hair. She smells faintly of cinnamon. “A few hours. The day at most. Give me a minute with her, before I go?”
She glances up at me and pouts. “So soon?”
I meet her gaze and nod. Just once.
“Of course, darling. We can chat when you return.” Smooth and still teasing, but she knows when not to push. She puts her lips to my ear. “Your friend here going to survive that long?”
“She’s survived a century or two. Another day won’t hurt,” I reply, not bothering to whisper.
Jasa rolls her eyes as Verity gives a delicate laugh, fingers trailing down my shoulder as she drifts away, delighting a young man in the corner with her abrupt attention. Even with everyone on Neon in here, she’s the brightest light in the room.
“You’re going to leave me with that woman?”
“That woman controls the flow of nostrums in Themis. That woman is also an utter demon who should be trusted by anyone she likes, which is me, and feared by anyone she doesn’t, which—incidentally—is absolutely you.
So for the love of all that is holy, do not tell her who you are.
Manage that, and you’ll be as safe as anywhere in the city.
” I see her look. “Or, you can come with me to visit a friend who tends to kill anyone who isn’t me.
Even when I ask her nicely. She has… privacy issues. ”
Jasa thinks, then growls her submission as if she had the option. “Your choice of friends thus far leaves something to be desired.”
“All my Keres ones are lovely. Polite and well-adjusted assassin-helpers, I promise. I could arrange for you to meet them instead?”
She sniffs, but takes the point. “This ‘Cold Room.’ It’s really safe?”
“It is.” She needs my sincerity, so I relent and let her see it. “Boring as hell, but definitely safe.”
She studies me for a long moment, then accepts it with a small, yielding sigh.
Goes back to taking in the room again with a kind of creaking, judgemental horror.
A young woman dances slowly in front of a sealed-away Argos, her veins glowing soft pink as the first notes of some Brahms drift through the air.
Another woman is draped across a couch, admiring the pulsing lines of her own body. “So you were a customer here?”
“No. I had some business here once. Off the books. Verity owes me for it.”
“Oh.” She’s relieved, as I knew she would be. Seems to have no trouble believing the lie. “You are coming back to get me at some point, though. Right?”
“Of course.” I give her my most sincere look as I pat her reassuringly on the shoulder. “I still want that damned file.”
I leave with a casual wave before she can respond.