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Authors: Frank Schätzing

BOOK: Limit
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‘I love surprises,’ she purred.

‘And this is one – Emma.’

Emma Deng was so surprised that she momentarily lost control of her clothes. Her top disappeared completely, revealing perfectly formed breasts. A moment later her torso turned black.

‘Don’t go, Emma,’ Jericho said quickly. ‘It would be a mistake.’

‘Who are you?’ hissed the woman who called herself Inara.

‘That doesn’t matter.’ His avatar crossed his legs. ‘You’ve embezzled two million
yuan and passed on company secrets to Microsoft. You can’t cope with more problems than that all at once.’

‘How – how did you find me?’

‘It wasn’t hard. Your preferences, your semantics—’

‘My what?’

‘Forget it. My speciality is hunting down people on the net, that’s all. You’ve been transmitting for so long now that it was easy to locate you.’

Not true, but Jericho knew that Emma Deng didn’t have the knowledge to see through his lie. A refined little girl, who had used the fact of her intimate relationship with the senior partner in the company she worked for in order to cheat it for years on end.

‘If I want,’ Jericho went on, ‘the cops will be at your door in ten minutes. You can run away, but they’ll find you just like I did. We’ll get you sooner or later, so I advise you to listen.’

The woman froze. Outwardly she had as little in common with the real Emma Deng as Owen Jericho had with Juan Narciso Ucañan. If you examined her psychological profile, it was very likely that Emma would opt for a body like Inara Gold’s, almost one hundred per cent. Jericho was definitely pleased with himself.

‘I’m listening,’ she muttered.

‘Okay, the honourable Li Shiling is willing to forgive you. That’s the information that I’m supposed to pass on to you.’

Emma laughed loudly.

‘You’re taking the piss.’

‘Not at all.’

‘Christ, I might be stupid, but I’m not as stupid as that. Shiling wants me to rot in hell.’

‘That’s not unthinkable.’

‘Great.’

‘On the other hand Mr Li seems to be missing the delights of your company. Particularly in the genital region, he’s been finding life a little dull since you left.’

Inara Gold’s beautiful face reflected unconcealed hatred. Jericho assumed that Emma was sitting in front of a full-body scanner that transferred her gestures and facial expressions to her avatar in real time.

‘What else did the old fucker have to say for himself?’ she hissed.

‘You don’t want to hear.’

‘I do. I want to know what I’m letting myself in for.’

‘A refreshing dip in the Huangpu, with your feet encased in lead? I mean, he’s furious! Your second-best option is that he’ll hand you over to the authorities. But
according to his own personal testimony what he’d really like is for you to go on giving him blowjobs.’

‘Shiling’s disgusting.’

‘It doesn’t seem to have been that bad.’

‘He forced me!’

‘To do what? Relieve him of two million? Flog building plans to the competition? Come on to him, to win his trust?’

Emma looked askance. ‘And what does he want?’

‘Nothing special. He wants you to marry him.’

‘Shit.’

‘Could be,’ Jericho said casually. ‘The Huangpu’s shit too. The quality of the water has declined dramatically. Mr Li is waiting for your call at the number you know, and he wants to hear a loud, audibly articulated
Yes
. What do you think, could you do that? What shall I tell him?’

‘Shit. Shit!’

‘That’s not what he wants to hear.’

By now Diane had passed on Emma’s location via the relevant server. She was in her apartment in Hong Kong. Far away, but not far enough. Nowhere would be far enough, unless she left the solar system.

‘He might buy you an apartment in Hong Kong,’ he added in a conciliatory tone.

Emma gave up.

‘Okay,’ she squeaked.

‘Mr Li is always available to speak to. I’d like to get a cheerful call from him in an hour at the most, otherwise I’ll consider myself forced to blow your cover.’ Jericho paused. ‘Don’t take it personally, Emma. This is how I make my living.’

‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘We’re all whores.’

‘You said it.’

He logged out of Second Life. The viewing window of the specs brightened. At the market, the last punters were on their feet. Most of the stands had closed. Jericho keyed in the time.

Four in the morning.

‘Diane,’ he said into his phone.

‘Hi, Owen. You’re still awake?’

Jericho smiled. Sympathy from a computer had something going for it if it spoke with Diane’s voice. He looked around. Most of the couches were abandoned. Cleaning systems were operating here and there. Even junkies had a vague sense of the time.

‘Wake me at seven, Diane.’

‘Sure, Owen. Oh, Owen?’

‘Yes?’

‘I’m just receiving a message for you.’

‘Can you read it out?’

‘Zhao Bide writes:
Don’t want to wake you in case you’ve dozed off under the burden of responsibility. Pleasant dreams. When it’s all over, let’s go and raise a glass.

Jericho smiled.

‘Write back and tell him – no, don’t write anything. I’m going to hit the hay.’

‘Can I do anything else for you?’

‘No thanks, Diane.’

‘See you later, Owen. Sleep well.’

* * *

See you later, Owen.

Later, Owen.

Owen—

Later and later and later, and she doesn’t come back. He lies on his bed and waits. On the bed in the dingy room that he hopes so ardently to be able to leave with her.

But Joanna doesn’t come back.

Instead, fat caterpillar-like creatures start creeping up the bed-covers – claws clutching the cotton fibres – the click of segmented legs – alarm-bells – groping feelers brushing the soles of his feet – alarm – alarm—

Wake up, Owen!

Wake up!

* * *

‘Owen?’

He started awake, his body one big heartbeat.

‘Owen?’

The early daylight stung his eyes.

‘What time?’ he murmured.

‘It’s only twenty-five past six,’ said Diane. ‘Sorry if I woke you prematurely. I have a Priority A call for you.’

Yoyo. the idea darted through his head.

No, the scanners were working independently of Diane, they could have woken him with an unnerving noise that was impossible to ignore. And he would have seen red. But among the people who were slowly repopulating the market, there wasn’t a single Guardian to be seen.

‘Put them through,’ he said bluntly.

‘What’s up? Are you still asleep?’

Tu’s square head grinned at him. Behind him, the Serengeti was springing to life. Or something like it: at any rate giraffes and elephants were walking around the landscape. A glowing orange sky hung over pastel-coloured mountains. Jericho pulled himself up. Individual snores rang out through Cyber Planet. Only a young woman sat cross-legged on her stool, with a coffee in her right hand. Plainly not a junkie. Jericho assumed she’d just popped in to see the breakfast news.

‘I’m in Quyu,’ he said, suppressing a yawn.

‘I just thought. Because of your receptionist. A pretty voice, but normally you pick up yourself.’

‘Diane is—’

‘You call your computer Diane?’ Tu asked, interested.

‘I’m short-staffed, Tian. You’ve got Naomi. There was a TV series a long time ago where an FBI agent was always conferring with his secretary, although you never got to see her in person—’

‘And her name was Diane?’

‘Mm-hm.’

‘Nice,’ said Tu. ‘What’s wrong with a real secretary?’

‘And where would she stay?’

‘If she was pretty, your bed. You’ve made it now, son. You live in a loft in Xintiandi. It’s time for you to arrive in your new life.’

‘Thanks. I’m there.’

‘You’re dealing with people who don’t quite get long-term incomers.’

‘Anything else, Reverend?’ Jericho swung himself off his couch, walked to the bar and chose a cappuccino. ‘Don’t you want to know how our search is going?’

‘You haven’t got anything.’

‘How do you work that out?’

‘If you had anything, you’d have been rubbing my nose in it for ages.’

‘Your call is Priority A. Why’s that?’

‘So that I can boast about being your best member of staff.’ Tu giggled. ‘You wanted to know who what’s-his-name Wang phoned before he died.’

The coffee gurgled into the cardboard cup.

‘You mean—?’

‘Yes, I do. I’ll send you over his telephone traffic. All the conversations he’s had since 26 May. You can fall at my feet if you like.’

‘How did you manage that?’

‘Certainly not by rummaging through his remains. As luck would have it, I play golf with the CEOs of two service providers. The guy was registered with one of them. My acquaintance was kind enough to pass the data on to me, no questions asked.’

‘Christ, Tian!’ Jericho blew on his coffee. ‘Now you owe him all the favours in the world, right?’

‘Not at all,’ Tu said in a bored voice. ‘He owes
me
something.’

‘Good. Very good.’

‘Where do we go from here?’

‘Diane is constantly checking the net for suspicious texts, Zhao and I are keeping an eye on the markets. If no one appears in the course of the next few hours, I’ll have to consider extending the circle of investigators and showing photographs around. I’d rather avoid that if we can.’ Jericho paused. ‘How did your conversation with Chen Hongbing go?’

‘So-so. He’s worried.’

‘Isn’t he at least reassured that she’s at liberty?’

‘Hongbing has turned worrying into an art form. But he trusts you.’

Behind Tu, a big bird of prey flapped into the air. A giraffe came quite close.

‘Tell me, where are you?’

‘Where do you think?’ Tu grinned. ‘In my office, of course.’

‘And where are you pretending to be?’

‘In South Africa. Pretty, isn’t it? It’s from the autumn collection. We’re offering twelve environments. The software places your image in the background as soon as you make your call, and adapts you to the environment. Have you noticed that the sun’s shining on my bald head?’

‘And the other environments?’

‘The Moon’s really brilliant!’ Tu beamed. ‘In the background the American moon base and spaceships landing. The program gives you a spacesuit. One can see your face through the visor of the helmet. Your voice is a bit distorted, like in the moon landings last century.’

‘One giant step for mankind,’ Jericho teased.

‘Let me know if anything new comes up.’

‘Will do.’

Jericho took a sip of his coffee. Thin and bitter. He urgently needed fresh air. As he crossed the foyer, Diane told him she had received a data packet from Tu, and passed it on to him. He stepped out into the street, with his eye on the display. Numbers, days and times became visible. Wang’s phone traffic. Diane compared the relevant data with information they had already. Of course Jericho didn’t expect any matches.

But she told him there was one.

He frowned. The evening before his death, Grand Cherokee Wang had dialled a number that also appeared among Jericho’s contacts. Diane had correlated names
and numbers, so that there was no doubt about who the student had phoned on the afternoon of 26 May.

Jericho stared at the name.

Suddenly he realised that he’d made a terrible mistake.

Steelworks

He had gone for direct confrontation, which temporarily forced him out of his location. After setting up another scanner near the front door of Cyber Planet, Jericho set off. If the scouts caught one of their target people, he could be back within a few minutes.

The streets were still empty, which meant that he made good headway. He parked the Toyota behind a soot-black building, straightened his hologoggles and approached Wong’s World on foot. The glass façade of this Cyber Planet showed that the market was on the way up. This branch of Wong was decidedly less run down than the other one. As Zhao had described it, it lacked the booths for prostitutes and people running gambling games; everything seemed to be entirely devoted to the preparation of food and the sale of groceries. Vegetables, herbs and spices were displayed in baskets and containers. For one customer, a woman reached into a basket with a grabber and pulled out a snake that went into violent convulsions when the saleswoman routinely cut open its body and pulled off the skin. Jericho turned away and inhaled the smell of fresh wontons and baozis. The stand was busy. Two young men with damply glistening torsos, swathed in the steam that rose from huge pots, swung their ladles, passed bowls of broth and crunchy crab and pork dumplings over the counter. Jericho walked on, ignoring the protests of his stomach. He could eat later. He crossed the street, stepped into Cyber Planet and glanced around. There was no sign of Zhao. There were no sleeping pods, but he might have gone to the toilet. Jericho waited for ten minutes, but Zhao didn’t appear.

He stepped outside again.

And suddenly he saw them.

There were two of them. They were both strolling towards the wonton stall and inadvertently looked in his direction as they did so. Their outlines glowed red on the glass of the hologoggles. The boy was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, the girl a mini-skirt for which she was a stone too heavy and a biker’s jacket with a massive City Demons logo. They were laden down with Wong’s World paper bags. They asked
the sweaty wonton cooks to put generous portions of soup in sealable plastic bowls, which they received, chatting and laughing, and put in the bags. Both looked carefree and generally cheerful. They talked to other customers for a while and walked on.

They bought enough breakfast to feed a whole gang.

Jericho followed them while the computer supplied him with details taken from Tu’s database: the girl’s name was Xiao Meiqi, known as Maggie, a computer science student. The boy was called Jin Jia Wei, on an electronic technology course. According to Tu, they were part of Yoyo’s inner circle. With Daxiong, that meant that Jericho now knew by sight four of the six dissidents. And those two certainly weren’t going to be demolishing the contents of those bags all by themselves.

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