“You poor dumb fuck.” She spat at him. “You really fucked this one up, b’y. No gold watch for you. They can just take your Murder Drone of the Month plaque right off the wall.”
Branch wiped the blood and bile away from his mouth. “You’re just as spiteful and stupid and small as your sisters,” he said. “You have no vision. No sense of what you’re doing.”
Hwa grinned through the blood. She let her accent go just as thick. “Aye? The way I reckon, a chain of murders, a major explosion, and a reactor leak t’ain’t so great for business. So youse tell me: how’s Joel supposed to make all the right investments, when he’s busy cleaning up this mess? Won’t all that capital be lining the pockets of all yourn attorneys? Because I think the people of this town have grounds for a lawsuit. I think the Lynches might have to sell some assets. Maybe do a wee reshuffling.”
Branch backed away. He turned to the countdown clock on the display. Sat down on a swivel chair. Watched the numbers. Watched the levels of radiation climb up to the red zone on the meter.
“I’ve failed,” Branch said. “I’m a failure.”
“You get used to it. Eventually. In my experience.”
“I failed to close the loop,” he murmured. “The strange loop.”
“Eh?”
“You are the strange loop,” he said. “The disorder. In the literature, in the modules, when we train for this job, that is how you are called. The Disorder. Our job is to order you.”
Hwa still had a chuckle in her bruised stomach. “Cute. I’ll tell me mum about that one. When I see her in Hell.” She watched the levels climbing up and up and up. She didn’t feel so good. She felt hot. Feverish. Slow. Branch flickered like a candle. Like he was having trouble keeping himself together. She had to ask him now. “Why the birthday cards?”
“What?”
“The threats,” Hwa said. “Why did you send the death threats if you knew they’d hire me to protect Joel?”
Branch gave her his last condescending sneer. “We didn’t.”
The room filled with light.
19
Human
A sonorous voice. Beautiful. Rich and deep and perfect.
“I have of late, (but wherefore I know not) lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition; that this goodly frame the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy the air, look you, this brave o’er hanging firmament, this majestical roof, fretted with golden fire: why, it appeareth no other thing to me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an Angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust?”
Her eyes opened.
Nail sat beside her, reading from a compact. His hair was a little longer than she remembered, but otherwise he looked exactly the same. Pale and handsome and well-dressed. Like nothing in the world had changed.
“Oh. You’re awake. The Mistress will be pleased.”
Her mouth worked.
“Yes. This is my speaking voice. I gave it to her as part of our contract. But she is lending it to you, during your convalescence. We are allowed to converse. Would you like some water?”
She was alive.
That was impossible.
She nodded.
Hwa had only the vaguest notion of how radiation poisoning was supposed to work, but she knew she wasn’t supposed to still have skin. Or eyes. Or a working set of lungs. She was supposed to be a puddle of melted human cheese. That was how it worked. Right?
The water tasted wonderful.
“Thank … you.…”
“It is quite all right. I live to serve.”
Hwa stretched her feet experimentally. Wiggled her toes. Tapped her fingers on the sheet. She was in the Lynch clinic. Had to be. There was an orchid on the table beside her bed, and a cut-crystal tumbler full of water. The lighting was soft. She waited for the turn of a windmill blade. None came. Five, then. She wrapped her left hand around the glass and brought the glass to her lips.
Her hand was wrong.
Clean.
Pure.
Unstained.
The tumbler trembled in her hand.
“Yes.” Nail retrieved the tumbler. He set it down on the tray beside her bed. “About that.”
“How…?”