Greg Mandel 2 - A Quantum Murder by Peter F. Hamilton

Author:Peter F. Hamilton [Hamilton, Peter F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, General, Fiction, Mystery & Detective, Telepathy, Mandel; Greg (Fictitious character), Science fiction; English
ISBN: 9780812555240
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 1998-05-04T06:21:30+00:00

'You'll get me into trouble.'

NEVER. SAY HI TO GREG. TELL HIM HE HAD BE1TER

SHOW UP HIMSELF NEXT TIME.

'I will.'

AND YOU. COME BACK. SEE ME.

'Yes.' She gave him a last glance, non-human, shamed by the fact that she could never in a million years show so much bravery. There was no point in even asking him to come out to the farm. It could be done, physically, with stretchers and vans and plenty of advanced planning. But his inheritance tied him to Mucklands far tighter than the web of fibre-optic cables ever did. Him and Teddy, neither of them would leave; there was no point, they were Mucklands, it went with them wherever they were.

Qoi popped up out of the kitchen without being summoned, and showed her to the door.

s always, the sylphlike Julia Evans remains resolutely wedded to her fallal dress sense,' Jakki Cole-

an said. She was at her Mediterranean villa, lounging on a sunbed at the side of a kidney-shaped pool.

On the far side was a white stone balustrade, guarding the steep drop down to a muzzy blue sea. ThU palm trees were growing out of stone barrels, fronds stirring in a gentle breeze.

'Considering the perennial obsession which the Gothic cult has for the afterworld, this particular selection of garments worn for the Prior's Fen footings ceremony is highly appropriate. Because, let's face it, our poor dear Julia looks as if she's been exhumed after a few weeks residing in a grave.'

'BITCH!' Julia shrieked.

Her tea cup hit the flatscreen in the centre, smashing into crescent fragments; it was the first object her searching hand could find, a big yellow and blue breakfast cup from the bedside tray. Sugary dregs began to trickle down the flat-screen, smearing the dark-haired young man who climbed out of the pool and began towelling himself off.

Patrick raised his head from the mounds of pillows which had accumulated on his side of the bed, blinking sleep from his eyes. 'What?' he grunted blearily.

'Oh go back to sleep.' Julia fired the remote at the flatscreen, imagining it was a laser pistol, beam scorching a hole through Jakki Coleman's head, her middle-aged head, and the shiny blue swimsuit showed her thighs were getting flabby too. She folded her arms below her breasts and glared at the blank rectangle.

Her bedroom was decorated in a soothing montage of pink and white tones, extremely feminine, with exquisite lacy frills on all the furniture, subdued lighting, a huge four-poster bed with a Romany canopy, ankle-deep pile carpet. It was the third redesign in four years; each time she edged closer to

CHAPTER TWELVE

A QUANTUM MURDER

189

her ideal, the romantic French-château image she secretly treasured.

And what would Jakki Coleman have to say about it? Bitch!

'You're upset about something,' Patrick said.

'Oh, ten out of ten, give it a banana.' 'Was it me?'

'No,' she said tightly.

'Ah, right.' He subsided back into the pillows.

Well that ruined the morning mood, Julia thought, there would be no sex now.

She pointed the remote at the windows. The thick imperial-~ purple velour curtains swept aside to show her the balcony.

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