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seconds.

    The handle is cold. Not just metal-at-ambient cold, but frigid and smoking-liquid-nitrogen cold.

    "Oops," I say very quietly, and keep on walking down the corridor until I arrive at the next room door. Then I pull out my phone and speed-dial Angleton.

    "Bob, Sitrep."

    I lick my lips. "I'm still alive. While I was in the elevator my tertiary proximity alarm redlined then dropped back. I got to my room and the door handle feels like it's measuring room temperature in single-digit Kelvins. I'm now outside the adjacent door. I figure it's a hit and unless you tell me otherwise I'm calling a Code Blue."

    "This isn't the Code Blue you'te here to deal with."

    Angleton sounds dryly amused, which is pretty much what I expect from him. "But you might want to
    make a note that your activation key is double-oh-seven. Just in case you need k later." I "You what?" I glare at the phone in disbelief, then punch the number into the keypad. "Jesus, Angleton, someday let me explain this concept called password security to you, I'm not meant to be able to hack my own action locks and start shooting on a whim — "
    "But you didn't, did you?" He sounds even more amused as my phone beeps twice and makes a metallic clicking noise.

    "You may not have time to ask when the shit hits the fen.

    That's why I kept it simple. Now give me a Sitrep," he adds crisply.

    "I'm going live." I frantically punch a couple of buttons and invisible moths flutter up and down my spine; when they fade away the corridor looks darker, somehow, and more threatening. "Half-live. My terminal is active." I fumble around in my pocket and pull out a small webcam, click it into place in the expansion slot on top of my phone. Now my phone has got two cameras.

    "Okay, SCORPION STARE loaded. I'm armed. What can I expect"

    There's a buzzing noise from the door lock next to me and the green LED flashes. "Hopefully nothing right now, but ... open the door and go inside. Your backup team should be in place to give you your briefing, unless something's gone very wrong in the last five minutes."

    "Jesus, Angleton."

    "That is my name. You shouldn't swear so much: the walls have ears." He still sounds amused, the omniscient bastard.

    I don't know how he does it — I'm not cleared for that shit — but I always have a feeling that he can see over my shoulder.

    "Go inside. That's an order."

    I take a deep breath, raise my phone, and open the door.

    "Hiya, Bob!" Pinky looks up from the battered instrument case, his hands hovering over a compact computer keyboard. He's wearing a fetching batik sarong, a bushy handlebar moustache, and not much else: I'm not going to give him the pleasure of knowing just how much this disturbs me, or how relieved I am to see him.

    "Where's Brains?" I ask, closing the door behind me and exhaling slowly.

    "In the closet. Don't worry, he'll be coming out soon enough." Pinky points a digit at the row of storage doors fronting the wall adjacent to my room. "Angleton sent us.

    He said you'd need briefing."

    "Am I the only person here who doesn't know what's going on"

    "Probably." He grins. "Nothing to worry about, ol' buddy." He glances at my Treo. "Would you mind not pointing that thing at me"

    "Oh, sorry." I lower it hastily and eject the second camera that turns it into a SCORPION STARE terminal, a basilisk device capable of blowing apart chunks of organic matter within visual range by convincing them that some of their carbon nuclei are made of silicon. "Are you going to tell me what's happening"
    "Sure." He sounds unconcerned. "You're being destinyentangled with a new partner, and we're here to make sure she doesn't accidentally kill and eat you before the ritual is complete."

    "I'm being what?" I hate it when I squeak.

    "She's from the Black Chamber. You're supposed to be working together on something big, and the old man wants you to be able to draw on her abilities when you need help."

    "What do you mean draw on her? Like I'm