Chung Kuo 06: An Inch of Ashes by David Wingrove

Author:David Wingrove [Wingrove, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sci fi
ISBN: 9780857898197
Publisher: Atlantic Books Ltd
Published: 2013-07-04T05:00:00+00:00

Fest leaned against the wall pad, locking the door behind him, then threw his tunic down on t.&rhad had too much to drink. But what the hell? Ebert was no saint when it came to drinking. Many was the night he’d fallen from his chair incapable. And that business about the girl, the chink whore, Golden Heart. Fest laughed.

‘I touched a sore spot there, didn’t I, Hans, old pal? Too fucking sore for your liking, neh?’

He shivered, then laughed again. Ebert would be mad for a day or two, but that was all. If he kept his distance for a bit it would all blow over. Hans would forget, and then...

He belched, then put his arm out to steady himself against the wall. ‘Time to piss...’

He stood there, over the sink, unbuttoning himself. It was illegal to urinate in the wash basins, but what the shit? Everyone did it. It was too much to expect a man to walk down the corridor to the urinals every time he wanted a piss.

He was partway through, thinking of the young sing-song girl, Golden Heart, and what he’d like to do to her when the door chime sounded. He half turned, pissing on his boots and trouser leg, then looked down, cursing.

‘Who the hell...?’

He tucked himself in and, not bothering to button up, staggered back out into the room.

‘Who is it?’ he called out, then realized he didn’t have his hand on the intercom.

What the fuck? he thought, it’s probably Scott, come to tell me what happened after I’d gone. He went across and banged his hand against the lock to open it, then turned away, bending down to pick his tunic up off the floor.

He was straightening up when a boot against his buttocks sent him sprawling head first. Then his arms were being pulled up sharply behind his back and his wrists fastened together with a restraining brace.

‘What in hell’s name?’ he gasped, trying to turn his head and see who it was, but a blow against the side of the head stunned him and he lay there a moment, tasting blood, the weight of the man on his back preventing him from getting up.

He groaned, then felt a movement in his throat. ‘Oh, fuck... I’m going to be sick...’

The weight lifted from him, letting him bring his knees up slightly and hunch over, his forehead pressed against the floor as he heaved and heaved. Then he was done. For a moment, he rested there, his eyes closed, sweat beading his forehead, the stench of sickness filling the room.

‘Gods, but you disgust me, Fest.’

He looked sideways, finding it hard to focus, then swallowed awkwardly. ‘And who the fuck are you?’

The man laughed coldly. ‘Don’t you recognize me, Fest? Was it so long ago that your feeble little mind has discarded the memory?’

Fest swallowed again. ‘Haavikko. You’re Haavikko, aren’t you?’

The man nodded. ‘And this here is my friend, Kao Chen.’

A second face, that of a Han, appeared beside Haavikko’s, then moved away. It was a strangely familiar face, though Fest couldn’t recall why.

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