Read City on Fire (Metropolitan 2) for Free Online

security she had ever known. And in exchange for a job in what is perhaps the least secure civil service in the world— the last inhabitant of this office had probably been pitched out of his job at the point of a bayonet.
    But of course it is foolish to think she can ever go back to the Scope of Jaspeer. Not with the police after her for what the statutes quaintly called “crimes against the public interest,” in this case stealing millions of dalders’ worth of plasm and giving it to a political adventurer who promptly used it to overthrow a friendly government.
    She sends the wiregram and feels a moment of loss as a part of her former life falls away.
    Item #5. Item #6. Her lover, her family.
    Two more parts of her former life. By now she doesn’t want to contemplate losing either.
    Aiah looks at her watch. 11:41. Almost midbreak, and she suddenly realizes she’s very hungry.
    She hasn’t eaten since yesterday’s sandwiches.
    She stands, stretches, wonders where in this giant place she can get something to eat. Aiah walks through her empty receptionist’s office into the hallway, and her nerves give a little jump as she sees Constantine bearing down on her at his usual earth-devouring pace— elemental energy, balanced and directed and walking on two long legs.
    His black velvet suit, trimmed with lace, makes him look like a pirate at a bankers’ convention. He carries a black leather briefcase with a combination lock.
    A smile breaks across his face. “Miss Aiah,” he says. "Are you comfortable in your new quarters?”
    Aiah’s answering smile freezes to her face. “As soon as they scrape the former occupant off the walls, yes.”
    Constantine looks surprised.
    “My apologies. No doubt a mistake was made in all the confusion.”
    “No doubt.” Aiah’s tone is meant to indicate that there is a story here if Constantine wants to hear it.
    There is an awkward pause. Apparently it is not the time for stories.
    “Are you engaged?” he asks finally.
    Aiah suppresses a bitter laugh. “Not until I have a budget and personnel, no.”
    Tigerish pleasure glows in his eyes. “I am now in a position to give you both. I have just come from a meeting of the cabinet, and your department is approved. You will be pleased to know you are the Director of the Plasm Enforcement Division. Gentri, the Minister of Public Security, objected loudly to your endowment, because you’re in competition with the plasm squads of the police, and therefore in a position to make him look bad— but the rest understand the necessity.” He bows, absurdly formal, and holds out the briefcase. “Your commission, madame. And some documents for your files. The lock combination is on a plastic flimsy inside. Read, memorize, destroy.”
    “Sounds serious.” She takes the briefcase and finds it heavy.
    “Names, biographies, public information, informers’ reports pulled out of the Specials’ files by Sorya. The Plasm Enforcement Division’s first cases.”
    Aiah’s nerves tingle as she feels the weight of the briefcase on the end of her arm. My commission, she thinks. I have just joined an army, and these are my marching orders.
    “Do you have time for a meeting?” Constantine asks.
    “ I seem to have little else on my schedule.” Except a meal, her stomach reminds her.
    Constantine cocks his head and looks at her, intent eyes narrowing. “You lack your usual energy, Miss Aiah. Have you eaten? Shall we have our meeting in the dining suite?”
    Aiah rocks back on her heels with relief. “Yes. Absolutely.”
    “You skip too many meals.”
    “ If I knew where to get a meal around here, that might change.”
    A smile dances across his face, and he makes another elaborate stage bow. “I shall direct you. If you would follow me?”
    Aiah returns the courtesy. “I would be pleased to do so.”
    “This way, then. The Kestrel Room has a lovely view, and a private room where we may talk.”
     
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