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  'You see,' said Benz, making it sound philosophical, 'teen girls are bubbling over with energy. They have to, like, release it.'

  Martin was thinking he really should've punched him until he fell out of the car and then broken his legs.

  The journey to Klang took about thirty-five minutes, made longer by a delay at one of the tollgates.

  Ho's business seemed to be some sort of small warehouse. The place didn't seem more than it appeared to be. There were a couple of older buildings with pink bricks and grime-frosted windows. Martin pushed his way through a decorative line of small bushes and joined Benz on a concrete forecourt.

  'You been here before?' asked Martin.

  'No. Ho went legit' years ago.'

  'What's this Ho fella gonna do for the girl? Give her somewhere to hide out? Maybe she's skipped the country already.'

  'I don't know. We're just following a lead. She could be anywhere.'

  Martin couldn't figure why only two of them were here. If whatever she had was so important, why hadn't they turned up with six cars and twenty men, really put the pressure on? It could have something to do with what Benz had said earlier, that nobody dared go against Yang.

  'What do you know about her?'

  'What do I need to know? She's some woman Yang wants found.'

  Benz seemed preoccupied with what the workers and machines were doing. 'She's not just some woman. Look what she did to Dooley and Shady. Paul was out of my sight for thirty seconds, long enough for her to come in and slice his head off without making a sound. How does someone do that?'

  'Vibrablade.'

  'Too noisy. Too messy.'

  'Maybe she got herself some enhancements. She could've just been lucky.' An industrial automech trundled past behind them, its arms laden with giant springs. Benz motioned for a man in a green jacket to come over. Get the man in charge, he told him. Never mind who we are, just get him.

  The foreman was a short, stocky Chinese. He had a cap on his head and a pencil behind one of his ears. He made a grunting noise.

  'Go get Jimmy Ho,' said Benz.

  The man seemed a little confused, probably at Benz' tone rather than the question. 'Jimmy's not here. Back on Friday.'

  Benz lunged forward and punched the man right in the face. The guy staggered back. Benz followed him and hit him again.

  'What are you doing?' said Martin.

  Some of the workers came running over. Martin pulled the Smith and Wesson from his belt. It seemed to be enough to hold them back.

  Benz kicked the man when he rolled over onto his side. He was blurting something in Chinese when Benz slapped the side of his head and dragged him to his feet.

  'Benz, what are you doing? Let him go.' Martin saw the workers moving closer.

  Martin was trying to look in every direction at once, the factory workers appearing from doorways and loading bays.

  Benz waved the gun at him. 'Take a back seat if you feel you're not up to it.' He pressed his gun into the guy's ear. 'So Ho's around, right?'

  'Benz, let him go.'

  'Take it easy.'

  'I'm not asking you.'

  'You giving me orders?' Benz shook his head, like his hearing wasn't working right. 'These people are used to this kind of treatment.'

  Martin holstered his weapon and caught Benz by the throat, fingers levering pressure into his windpipe, his other hand twisting his wrist.

  'Can't breathe.' Benz could barely speak. His eyeballs started to bug.

  The Chinese man scampered out of the way.

  Martin kicked his leg so he went down on one knee. 'You fucking idiot.'

  'Hey, I'm sorry.'

  'You're creating a situation here we can't control.'

  Benz nodded, tried to get free, and Martin had no problem keeping hold of him. He let Benz go, shaking his throat a little first so he made little gurgling sounds, and took his gun from him.

  Benz got to his feet, glaring at Martin, then at the workers who'd gathered around them. He wiped at the sweat on his face. Less cocky now.

  Martin threw Benz his gun. He caught it as it hit his stomach. Martin knew Benz's attitude would change the moment he got his gun back.

  Benz said, 'Touch me again I'll fucking kill you.'

  'I knew you'd say that. Waving your gun around ain't gonna get us anywhere.' Martin kept his voice calm. It let Benz know that he was in control. 'I know your kind. You think you're tough, but when the blood starts pumping you'll be the first to shit his pants. So what are you gonna do? We can put this behind us or we can start shooting and see who goes down first.'

  Benz was breathing hard. It took him about thirty seconds to decide to put his gun away.

  'I just got carried away,' said Benz eventually. 'Come on, let's search the place. I'll check the warehouse, you check the offices. Well, what you waiting for?' Benz' mouth twisted when he bit his lip. 'I'm cool, man. Let's get this job over with. Ho's here and so is the girl, or they're not.'

  Martin wasn't too sure about turning his back on Benz, but he reckoned he didn't have a choice. He wanted the incident to be forgotten as soon as possible. Hopefully Benz would see it the same way.

  It took about ten minutes to search the place. Martin checked the offices, leaving Benz to check the warehouse and factory. They met back at the car and Benz shrugged his shoulders. So he ain't here, said Benz. Let's ride, said Martin, wondering what Benz had to grin about.

  During the journey back to the capital, Benz wasn't at all the way Martin thought he would be. It was obvious he was still pissed, and the little jerking movements he did in his seat said he was agitated, but something had calmed the man. Perhaps he'd seen the error of his ways, which was doubtful, or he'd realised Martin wasn't the pushover he thought he would be. He was more talkative, even telling a couple of jokes and a story about Travis. He'd been a lawyer before he started working for Peter Yang.

  'We're stopping off here,' said Benz.

  It was a quiet part of town. Across the street was an Indian temple that had burnt down years ago. Figures lined the top of the walls. Women with six faces and ten arms, pot-bellied men with black moustaches. Benz had parked right in front of the building they were going into, a dilapidated row of shops with planks nailed over the windows.

  It was gloomy inside, apart from where shafts of sunlight broke through the gaps in the shuttered windows.

  'We meeting someone?'

  'We're meeting Travis,' said Benz.

  Martin was moving toward the back of the building, taking care where he placed his feet, sensing the floorboards straining under his weight. There was a doorway leading to another room.

  Of all the things Martin expected to see, this wasn't one of them.

  Behind Travis was a tall arched window. Some of the small panes were cracked, a few missing. The floor was covered with garbage and old newspapers. Next to Travis was the cyberbabe from the club, dressed in the same outfit, at his other side another android. She had a mass of curly red hair framing a cute face, sweet enough to be on the cover of a magazine. Hot pants stretched over her perky ass, a T-shirt cut down to reveal her belly.

  Benz was right behind him. A man stood in the corner, another just off to Martin's right.

  'I don't like moments like this,' said Travis. 'I don't like being in this part of town. It makes me feel dirty just being here.'

  Martin moved closer. 'Then why are you here?'

  He saw that the two men had their weapons conveniently placed for a quick draw. He might be able to take out one of them, but not both. And that depended on how fast Benz reacted if any shooting started. One of the androids draped her arm over Travis' shoulder. She was looking at Martin, smiling like she was flirting with him. They couldn't turn off the charm if they wanted to.

  'I'm going to ask you some questions,' said Travis. 'Did you know Tomoko Iwamoto before you came to KL. The neighbours say she was at your apartment this morning and she drove your daughter to work. I also want to know if you took Mr. Yang's
property, and if you did, where it is.'

  'I've never seen her before.' Martin thought about the Japanese woman in his apartment, standing over him and watching him sleep, placing Yang's Scotch on the table.

  Travis said, 'I have to be sure. What happened to Dooley and Shady?'

  Benz looked nervous, ready for something to happen, but unsure what it would be.

  'Dooley talked himself to death and Shady died from lung cancer. Tough break for both of 'em.'

  'Nice. Strange how you're the only one who came back alive.' Travis put his hands together, as if in an apologetic gesture. 'I'm never comfortable handling another man's genitals, but these fine young ladies don't have that problem.'

  The two androids took a few steps toward Martin. He knew they were stronger than himself. Cybernetic dolls, mostly organic, part electronic. Red blood, wet pussies, artificial brains and hearts synchronised to a hydrogen battery power supply. No emotion.

  'Get his gun, Benz.'

  Benz moved to Martin's side to do as Travis had told him.

  'Travis, she set me up.' Martin raised his hands higher, not wanting to give any of them an excuse. 'I've never seen her before.'

  'She was at your place,' said Travis. 'She's been seen with your daughter at the supermarket and on the street. That implicates your daughter. Jessica, right? You must think we're some dumbass motherfuckers not to realise you got some private agenda going down with Tomoko Iwamoto. We'll be visiting Jessica soon as we've finished here.'

  Benz rubbed his hand across his face. 'Yeah, yeah, that's right.'

  A dot of red light appeared on the window behind Travis. Martin saw it first. It moved quickly, creating a tiny spot at the side of Travis' neck, then flashing over toward Martin. The others had seen it now. The dot jumped back toward Travis. Martin knew if he was going to make his move it had to be now.

  He twisted on his hips and put the full weight of his shoulder into the punch that slammed into Benz' nose. And then right on cue the shooting started. Everything became chaotic, a cacophony of sounds and streaking images.

  Glass shattered in the arched window as the red dot searched for a target. Travis raised his gun and got off a shot, and then he was diving to the floor when the android next to him had most of her side blown away. Martin ran, trying to get behind Benz, pulling his gun and shooting the man to his left, hitting him in the chest.

  Martin didn't see him crumple and fall, he was already moving to the way out, keeping his head low. He got off three clumsy shots as he fell through the doorway, one .38 Special hitting Benz in the leg.

  Outside, Martin caught a glimpse of the Japanese girl running across the temple's rooftop at the other side of the street. She disappeared for a second, then she was at the brick ledge between a cow and a woman with six breasts and an elephant's head, bringing a rifle into her shoulder. She was firing into the doorway behind him.

  There was a white guy leaning against Benz's car, looking startled, and Martin put a bullet in him, walked briskly to the driver's side, stepped over the body and opened the door. He fired two shots into the windscreen of the car parked behind. Glass spider-webbed.

  12

  Perceptual Motion

  Driving fast, snaking through traffic like a rollercoaster torn from its track. Jess finished work early today. Martin could only hope she was already back at the apartment.

  He hadn't realised how badly he'd been injured, until he'd felt the steering wheel wet in his hands. A bullet had torn through the fleshy side of his palm. He'd used a rag to help stem the flow of blood. He brought the Proton to a screeching stop, inside wheels drumming the curb. He ran across the pavement. Sweat stung his eyes.

  Up the stairs, along the corridor, leaving red on everything he touched. He swiped his keycard across the lock. Inside, he called Jess's name, keeping his gun at his side so as not to alarm her. He heard noises coming from the kitchen.

  He holstered his gun and put his damaged hand into his pocket. 'You okay?' She took two glasses from a cupboard. He said, 'You know the bags I told you to keep packed at all times? We'll be using 'em.'

  'Are we leaving? What's that on your face?'

  'Yeah, baby, we're leaving.' He ran a towel across his cheeks, wiping away red spots.

  'Your friend's here.'

  Martin tensed.

  'What friend?'

  She took a bottle of lemonade from the fridge and looked toward the door to the living room. 'Do you want a drink or what?'

  Martin didn't hear her.

  In the living room, the Japanese girl sat in the one armchair. She seemed to be alone, at least he couldn't see anyone else. He checked the other side of the door.

  'What are you doing here?'

  'I came to see Jessica, thought I'd stick around and meet her old man.'

  He moved to the window to check the street below. Everything seemed normal, no black cars screeching to a stop outside and men with shotguns mounting the steps.

  'What have you done?'

  'I just saved you. You should thank me.'

  'Thank you? For what?' He felt his breath hissing between his teeth, a dull pain starting to throb in his temples. 'They think I stole Yang's shit, that we're connected somehow. You fucking crazy bitch. Do you have any idea what you've done?'

  Her right eye was a little bloodshot. 'Martin, of course I do.'

  'You made this happen.'

  'Uh huh.'

  'Why, damn it?'

  'Travis is still alive. He'll be kicking your door down in about five minutes.'

  'He's still alive.' He put the gun right in her face. She barely seemed to blink.

  'You need me, Martin, whether you like it or not.'

  'Do you want ice in yours, Tomoko?' It was Jessica calling from the kitchen.

  Tomoko Iwamoto returned Martin's gaze unflinchingly. 'Yeah, I like ice,' she said.

  He leaned closer to her, one hand tight on the gun and the other a fist he shook in her face. 'What was that with the whiskey, leaving it here? You're gonna tell Travis we don't know each other. I'll drag you out into that corridor –'

  'I'm not telling Travis anything. Threaten me again, Martin, and I will break bones in your body you didn't even know you had.'

  He heard Jess in the kitchen opening the freezer, eased himself down to sit on the arm of the sofa. 'I've got no reason to trust you.'

  'I don't care. Jessica trusts me.'

  'She's a kid.'

  'She's an adult.'

  He gritted his teeth, wiping the sweat from his head. 'How many times have you been here?'

  'A few when you've been away, out on your little trips with Paul or driving around looking for me. Jessica thinks we've got something going on.'

  He raised the gun, blood dripping from his hand. 'I'll put a bullet right in your fucking face.'

  She threw two small, black discs onto the coffee table.

  Jessica came in and gave Tomoko Iwamoto a glass of ice and lemonade, squeezed on to the chair and sat next to her, legs crossed over each other.

  Martin had his fingers tight around the gun concealed under his shirt, looking at the red and purple marks that ringed Tomoko's eyes, the liquid glistening on her upper lip.

  Jessica said, 'Dad, I'm hungry.'

  13

  Noodles

  Tomoko had made a good field-dressing after a small tank of nanobots had gone to work on his damaged hand, the flesh open and raw when she'd peeled back the sodden rag.

  Martin had thought about Travis while he'd watched her work. He'd had a conversation with Tomoko that had made him think, started him wondering if maybe this Japanese woman was right. That maybe some of Yang's guys already had him measured for a shallow pit in the forest and had discussed how his assets would be divided. Who'd get Jessica.

  'I know these people,' Tomoko had said. 'Until you've proven yourself, you're expendable. If you die, they'll come for Jessica. She's young and pretty. What do you think they'd do?'

  'Yang wouldn't do that.'
/>
  'Peter doesn't care. You work for the gang, you're not part of it. Did you think that was the first time Benz had seen your daughter at the shop? You were checked out the moment you arrived.'

  He'd been thinking about bashing her head in, soon as she'd finished dressing his wound and given him the painkillers. He'd felt his hand starting to shake.

  Jessica had moaned, 'We getting some food or not?'

  •

  The Restoran Chim Choo was a typical Malaysian restaurant. Wooden walls that only went halfway to the rusting corrugated roof, the same red plastic chairs, fans idly stirring the air overhead. A dog sniffed around, looking for scraps.

  Martin dropped the discs on the restaurant's plastic table. 'I don't know why you gave me these things. I don't even know what they are.'

  A waitress brought the food they'd ordered. Three bowls of noodles and vegetables, alongside three glasses of cola. He stabbed a green leaf with his fork. It was times like these when he missed those big, juicy Texas steaks.

  Martin couldn't decide if Tomoko's oval-shaped sunglasses made her look cat-like or more like an insect, a praying mantis.

  'I know they're important to Peter. Where were you taking them?' A noodle snaked its way into Tomoko's mouth.

  He passed Jess a napkin. She sat next to Tomoko, closer than he would have liked. He lifted the bowl to drink some of the soup. 'To Peter's office, that's all I know. I arrived in Kuala Lumpur three weeks ago from Thailand. I had a contact who could get me some work with your ex-boss. Things weren't working out in Thailand. Too many of those cranky religions starting up.'

  'He was never my boss.'

  'What's the deal with Yang anyway? He feel your ass or something when you were bending over?'

  Jess nudged him. 'It ain't gonna get you far been rude like that.'

  'Fuck her. Do you have any idea –'

  Tomoko said, 'He killed my father.'

  That was a good enough reason to dislike the guy. 'These discs are gonna get you in more trouble than they're worth.'