Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...
Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...
Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...
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Generated <strong>by</strong> ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html<br />
"Hrrrrrg," she said, <strong>and</strong> showed one of the cards Megan had had done up.PigebQ Post Delivery<br />
Service .<br />
The clerk swallowed <strong>and</strong> recoiled slightly, rattling off a string of Arkan too quickly for her to follow. She<br />
let her eyes roll <strong>and</strong> twitch, tapping the side of her head where the b<strong>and</strong>ages covered the ears.<br />
"Fifth floor, through there, noble<strong>and</strong>heroicsolas," he said, more slowly <strong>and</strong> carefully, pointing to a door<br />
to the right of the counter. "You'll need a pass to enter the nonpublic section."<br />
He scribbled quickly <strong>and</strong> sealed it with half a dozen of the rubber stamps; they were in hardwood<br />
holders with a U h<strong>and</strong>le on the back; some of them would have made passable bucklers. A watchman<br />
stood <strong>by</strong> the door, bristle-croppedokas-caste haircut. Up an open stairwell, ink <strong>and</strong> old tea smells. Floor<br />
after floor of corridors, open offices crowded with desks… clerks writing, or sleeping with their heads on<br />
their desks, or looking out the windows <strong>and</strong> whittling on sticks, once a group of younger men playing<br />
some throwing game with parcels wrapped in paper or burlap.<br />
One of them looked at her pass on the fifth-floor l<strong>and</strong>ing, dropping his parcel; something crunched <strong>and</strong><br />
tinkled as he kicked it aside. "Diras Tekis, third office on the left," he said quickly, not looking at her<br />
b<strong>and</strong>ages, "noble<strong>and</strong>heroicsolas."<br />
Shkai'ra felt fresh sweat break out on her upper lip, under the weight of stinking gauze. This was the<br />
moment of final commitment; once she passed through the clerk's office, nothing could go wrong. Ihate<br />
plans like that , she thought, feeling her breakfast of creamed wheat sitting chill in her stomach. An oak<br />
door, walls done in murals showing heroic postal couriers fighting their way through hurricanes,<br />
snowstorms, wolves, b<strong>and</strong>its <strong>and</strong> tigers amid implausible mountains <strong>and</strong> jungles, painted <strong>by</strong> someone<br />
who had evidently never left the city, or waited for a letter.<br />
Down another corridor; it was quieter here, but she could smell pigeons above. A middle-agedfessas<br />
looked up as she closed the door of his office behind her.Stone walk , she thought; still, best to be quiet<br />
about it.<br />
A gabble of Arkan; she caught the word "help you,"miassiu . She leaned across the desk, tapping at her<br />
ear. He frowned, swallowed, <strong>and</strong> forced himself not to draw back as he repeated the phrase, slowly as if<br />
to an imbecile. "How may I help you?"<br />
"Like this," Shkai'ra said happily in her own tongue. Her h<strong>and</strong>s shot forward; there was a moment of<br />
struggle, but she was clamping on the carotids, not strangling. It took a moment longer than she expected,<br />
difficult to find the veins in a neck so soft; then he slumped senseless across the paper-littered tile surface<br />
of the desk.<br />
Work quickly, she told herself. There was another chair, a sturdy thing of glued wood; she whirled it<br />
around <strong>and</strong> propped it under the glass knob of the door, kicking it softly to drive it home.<br />
The man stirred, murmuring. She went around the desk, tipped him back into his chair. It was another<br />
example of Arkan fancywork, swivel-mounted on springs. He slumped back bonelessly, <strong>and</strong> she had to<br />
fight the peculiar limp difficulty of an unconscious body as she rolled back the silky fabric of his sleeve<br />
<strong>and</strong> slapped the inside of his elbow sharply to bring up the vein. It had looked easy when the Haian did it<br />
back in camp—Megan, how do you fare, my heart—no, no time for that—but she frowned as she<br />
took out the hardwood case with the syringe.