‘Action, do you think?’ he asked them.

‘Yes,’ they said simultaneously, then looked at each other. Svent went on. ‘The hotel server has it that the storm should be finishing soon.’

The doors hissed open onto the lobby and they walked out across thick carpet. By the glass frontage a beetle-shaped robot was droning back and forth, cleaning up the mess tracked in by the hotel guests. Dusache glanced through that frontage before turning towards the bar.

‘That isn’t rain, it’s a vertical sea,’ he said.

To a certain extent Stanton agreed with him: it was a vertical sea, except when the wind turned it into a horizontal one. He followed the two mercenaries into the bar area and looked around. Corlackis and Mennecken were sitting playing cards at a low table. Corlackis had a stack of coins next to him and Mennecken a murderous expression on his face. He was gambling, and losing as usual.

‘Where’s Pelter?’ Stanton asked. Corlackis shrugged and continued dealing out the cards. Svent and Dusache moved over to join the school. Svent looked up.

‘He’s on his way down,’ he said.

The communication between the three of them was obvious, and why not? Any augs could link together like that. What bothered Stanton was that such linkage was out of character for both Pelter and Dusache, just as wearing an organic aug was an odd thing for Svent to do. He walked over to the bar, where a metal-skin was waiting in obedient stillness.

‘Give me a vodka cool-ice,’ he said.

The skin immediately took up a glass and held it to the vodka optic. Stanton wondered if the ill-fitting shirt, bow-tie and black trousers it wore were an example of what passed for humour here. He watched the skin open the ice dispenser and select two of the rainbow cubes to drop into the vodka. It didn’t need tongs—its metal fingers were tongs. Stanton was taking his first sip when Pelter walked in, Crane’s presence behind him so expected now that Stanton found himself beginning to ignore the android. Perhaps not a healthy habit to get into.

‘We go to the warehouse now,’ Pelter said.

‘You sure that’s a good idea? It’s only a little while until this shit stops,’ asked Corlackis, glancing up from his hand.

Pelter moved further into the room. He stared at Corlackis until the mercenary looked up again. There was a brief uncomfortable silence until Pelter spoke.

‘Whether or not it is a good idea is irrelevant. You will go outside and get the transporter round to the front here. You will do it now.’