‘You could make enquiries yourself,’ Brecht said wryly, as the fresh round of drinks arrived.

‘I tried. Come on – you’re good at this kind of thing.’

Brecht raised his glass, and chinked Zidarov’s. ‘I’ll do it, because I love you, Zido. I’d make it a condition that you drop this madness with Udmil, but I guess you’re too stupid to ­listen to me.’

They both drank.

‘I don’t know,’ Zidarov said, cupping his rezi in both hands and staring at it. ‘I don’t even know where I might go with it.’

‘Then don’t start.’

‘Maybe.’ Zidarov took another sip. ‘Maybe.’

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

When you wanted to know more about the Jazc Corporation, there was really only one person to ask. Zidarov put in a vox-request to Glovach before leaving the bar. It took a while to get an answer back, probably because Klev Glovach didn’t see much reason to associate with lower-grade probators, having been spoiled by all that corporate hospitality. In the end, a response did return, telling Zidarov to come to the Volodiak private members’ club if he really couldn’t wait until next time they were both in the Bastion.

The drive wasn’t far. The towers in the subdistrict were very much like the ones he’d seen in the holofield, straight-edged and well maintained, with fearsome security presences on every corner. There were no tatty rows of food stalls, and precious few Ministorum floats and processions. This was the home of money in Urgeyena, the place where the slate was made, bent and spent. Even the sidewalks looked reasonably clean, though the constant hammer of rain no doubt did much to sluice them down.

Glovach had given him the loc-ref for a particularly upmarket tower, one with an armourglass frontage that glinted even in the grey drabness of the late afternoon. The entrance lobby was lined with mirrors, the floors highly varnished, which gave the strange impression of walking in and through something transparent, like water. It smelled rather intensely of personal body fragrances, the kind of sprays that they laced with attraction pheromones, no doubt exuded from the dozens of people milling around amid the reflections and the crystal fountains. The effect became rather overwhelming after just a few moments in their presence – Zidarov found himself wanting to stuff a cloth into his mouth.