“I’m exceeding the speed limit,” she said. “Every vehicle in Japan is legally required to be equipped with one of these devices. You speed, it dings.”
Laney turned to Yamazaki. “Is that true?”
“Of course,” Yamazaki said, over the steady clanging.
“And people don’t just disconnect them?”
“No,” Yamazaki said, looking puzzled. “Why would they?”
Arleigh’s phone rang. “McCrae. Willy?” Silence as she listened. 260 William Gibson Then Laney felt the van sway slightly. It slowed until the clanging suddenly stopped. She lowered the phone. “‘What is it?” Laney asked. “Willy Jude,” she said. “He. . . He was just watching one of the clubbing channels. They said Rez is dead. They said he was dead. In a love hotel.”
40. The Business When nobody did anything to help Maryalice, Chia got up from the bed, squeezed past the Russian and into the bathroom, triggering the ambient bird track. The black cabinet was open, its light on, and there were Day-Gb penis-things scattered across the black and white tile floor. She took a black towel and a black washcloth from a heated chrome rack, wet the washcloth at the black and chrome basin, and went back to Maryalice. She folded the towel, put it down over the vomit on the white carpet, and handed Maryalice the washcloth.
Nobody said anything, or tried to stop her. Masahiko had sat back down on the carpet, with his computer between his feet. The scarred man, who seemed to take up as much space as anything in the room, had lowered his axe. He held it down, along a thigh wider than Chia’s hips, with the spike jutting from beside his knee.
Maryalice, who’d managed to sit up now, wiped her mouth with
the cloth, taking most of her lipstick with it. When Chia straightened up, a whiff of the Russian’s cologne made her stomach heave.
“You’re a developer, you say?” Rez still held the nanotech unit.
“You are asking many questions,” the Russian said. Eddie
groaned, then, and the Russian kicked him. “Basis,” the Russian
said.
“A public works project?” Rez raised his eyebrow. “A water filtration plant, something like that?”
The Russian kept his eye on the big man’s axe. “In Tallin,” he
said, “we soon are building exclusive mega-mall, affluent gated sub-
urbs, plus world-class pharmaceutical manufakura. We are unfairly denied most advanced means of production, but we are desiring one hundred percent modern operation.”
“Rez,” the man with the axe said, “give it up. This boon and his mates need that thing to build themselves an Estonian drug factory. Time I took you back to the hotel.”
“But wouldn’t they be more interested in . . . Tokyo real estate?”
The big man’s eyes bulged, the scars on his forehead reddening. One of the upper arms of the micropore X had come loose, revealing a deep scratch. “What bulishit is that? You don’t have any real estate here!”
“Famous Aspect,” Rez said. “Rei’s management company. They invest for her.”
“You are discussing nanotech exchanged for Tokyo real estate?” The Russian was looking at Rez.
“Exactly,” Rez said.
“What kind real estate?”
“Undeveloped landfill in the Bay. An island. One of two. Off one of the old ‘Toxic Necklace’ sites, but that’s been cleaned up since the quake.”
“Wait a minute,” Maryalice said, from the floor. “I know you. You were in that band, the one with the skinny Chinese, the guitar player, wore the hats. I know you. You were huge.”
Rez stared at her.
“I think is not good, here to discuss the business,” the Russian said, rubbing his birthmark. “But I am Starkov, Yevgeni.” He extended his hand, and Chia noticed the laser-scars again. Rez shook it.
Chia thought she heard the big man groan.
“I used to watch him in Dayton,” Maryalice said, as if that proved something.
The big man took a small phone from his pocket with his free hand, squinted at the call-display, and ptit it to his left ear. Which Chia flOW saw was missing. He listened. “Ta,” he said, and lowered the ihone. lie moved to the window, the one Chia had found behind 264 William Gibson the waliscreen, and stood looking out. “Better have a look at this, Rozzer,” he said.