It's only when he starts running that you realise how inebriated he truly is.

THIS HABIT OF RELEASING THE PEOPLE'S ENEMIES IN YOUR POSSESSION WOULD MAKE EVEN THE MOST FORGIVING ETHICS COMMITTEE QUESTION YOUR ALLEGIANCES.

LICH OR NOT, THAT'S ONE OF THE PEOPLE'S ENEMIES YOU JUST RELEASED. EVEN THE MOST FORGIVING ETHICS COMMITTEE WOULD CALL YOUR ALLEGIANCES INTO QUESTION.

More than him. His face registers only the bitterness of the man who knew he was going to be betrayed, and was.

The infamous Reverse-Faux Execution, cruelest of all forms of foreplay.

The feeling isn't even bittersweet. It feels like something that happened to someone else entirely.

In spite of you, the knowledge slips into its natural niche in your brain -- common sense, inevitable in retrospect.

Assignment rating: Catastrophic failure. Turn gun on self.

In spite of you, the knowledge slips into its natural niche in your brain -- obvious, inevitable.

You let him go. You let him go. You let. Him go.

The quarry is dead. You have already completed your assignment.

No, no, no. This isn't right. This can't be right.

In the background you can hear the sound of machinery and men hurling masculine insults at each other as cargo is hauled from ship to shore.

A cargo boat brushes gently against the canal. The smell of fuel oil hangs heavy in the air.

Raindrops gather on the wreckage overhead.

Nose to the air. Take in the scent.

You see a haze of coloured light, dark figures moving within.

You hear laughter and music ahead.

Certain deaths can't help but take on a metaphorical quality.

Ramses used to love this stuff. The perfect balance of pointlessness and grit.

The mandibles on the stag beetle are fully the size of its body. Obvious physical superiority.

He's none-too-discreetly hiding a cigar-sized joint under his wrist.

It's like a brushfire. You can almost smell the animal panic as the jungle goes up in flames.

Don't be distracted by the tiger beetle's iridescent shell, look at it's eyes -- the eyes of a killer.

Representatives of whichever syndicate happened to control illegal imports at that time.

Dust and carbon paper flakes dance in the circle of light.

The galleries in Satellite Facility B were similar. Vast swaths of human knowledge, packed and ordered by esoteric means.

Eyes strained from low light. Fingers blistered.

No calendars, no clocks. Days bleeding into one another; waves eating the shoreline.

The book flashes open for a moment -- you see that the margins are black with annotations furiously scribbled out on almost every page.

She picks up on your sarcasm, your lack of fear -- echoes it, little cuckoo.

Something feline in his eyes, too. An intelligence, but utterly dissimilar from any kind you know.

Eszti Newitz. Competent. Unlikeable. Ultimately invaluable.

Call her a 'frigid bitch' also, if we find an öpening!

Eszti keeps a special mental calendar marked 'Critical Phone Call from Hershel?'. The calendar has been counting for five years.

An equal mix of 'old people' and 'immunity to fun'.

Ramses was white lithium grease and hash. Vespar: leather, salt, sour pear. Karolina, often up programming all night, wafted coffee wherever she went.

Not perceptibly. But there was something at a base pheromonal level that pitted you against each other from day one.

Also: Frigid, judgmental, and eminently punch-able.

She is a cold moon in your eternal orbit. Trust the invisible geometry. It will hold.

A delicate fragrance rises from the bush: jasmine.

They only bloom at dawn -- most of the day, nearby buildings block out the light.

When you were quite small, there was a jasmine plant that trailed over the neighbour's fence. Knowing they could be made into tea, you took a flower and popped it in your mouth one autumn morning.

It tasted like perfume -- floral, bitter. The flavour lingered on your tongue all day.

You could build a garland of the small white blooms, wear it in your hair. Trail a path of perfume behind you.

A vast improvement on your current odour.

Repulsive. But still relaxed.

The smell of you, for her.

Then, whenever you get zeroed out, she'll have to spend the rest of her life avoiding perfume counters, tea rooms, and community gardens.

Checks