The Fuller Memorandum by Charles Stross

Author:Charles Stross [Stross, Charles]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Horror
ISBN: 9780441018673
Publisher: Ace Hardcover
Published: 2010-07-05T06:00:00+00:00

I'M NOT GOING TO EXPLAIN HOW I GOT HERE FROM THERE: JUST take it as given that it is now ten o'clock in the morning, I am still in the office (but called Mo half an hour ago to see she's okay), I haven't shaved or slept, and there's a BLOODY BARON meeting in five minutes. I've got Amarok running on my desktop (playing "Drowning in Berlin" on endless repeat, because I need a pounding beat to keep me awake) and I've plowed through the CODICIL BLACK SKULL file that Angleton left me, and then on into a bunch of tedious legwork for this morning's session. I'm suffering from severe cognitive dissonance; every so often you think you've got a handle on this job, on the paper clip audits and interminable bureaucracy and committee meetings, and then something insane crawls out of the woodwork and gibbers at you, something crazy enough to give James Bond nightmares that just happen to be true.

I close the CBS file and I'm just sticking it back in my secure document safe when Iris pops her head round the door. "Bob? Are you ready to do battle with BLOODY BARON yet?"

I groan quietly. "I think I need a coffee, but yeah, I'll be along just as soon as I've locked this . . ." I poke at the keypad and it tweedles happily. Not that an electronic lock is the only security we rely on; anyone who tries to crack this particular safe is going to wake up in hospital with a hangover the size of a whale.

"White, no sugar, right?"

"You're a star. I'll be right with you." Did I remember to say good management cures the King's Evil and makes coffee, too? Because if not, it's all true.

Ten minutes later I'm sitting in Room 206 again, with a mug of passable paint stripper in front of me and a printout of the minutes. It's a very cut-down rump session today. Franz is absent, Iris is tapping her fingers and Shona is looking as if she'd like to be away with the fairies while Choudhury drones on: "No observed deviations from traffic intercept patterns established over the past week, and no notified agent movements yesterday--"

What the hell, I'm bored. I clear my throat.

Choudhury glances at me, irritated: "What is it, Howard?"

"These non-existent agent movements wouldn't happen to include Panin, would they? Because I'm sure if Panin so much as farted in F-flat minor our boys would be up his arse with a gas spectrograph, wouldn't they?"

I am pleased to see that both Shona and Iris are paying attention: Shona's nostrils flare unconsciously and Iris raises an eyebrow at me. Choudhury, however, is a harder nut. He frowns. "Don't be silly. Of course they'd spot him if he was in the UK."

"Really?" I lean back, cross my arms, and bare my teeth at him. Maybe he'll mistake it for a grin. "Explain last night, then."

"Last n--" He stops dead. "What happened last night?"

I glance at the Sitrep folder.

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