12011 was glass-fronted, with wide sliding doors of mirrored window-plate.
Fischig swept up a warning hand, and took a coin from his pocket. He flipped it onto the terrace and it was atomised by nine separate las-beams.
He keyed his vox. 'Chastener Fischig to Arbites control, copy?'
'Copy, chastener.'
'Access dome central and shut down auto-defences on Thaw-view 12011. Immediate.'
A pause.
'Shut down authorised.'
He made to step forward. I halted him and tossed a coin of my own.
It bounced twice on the basalt terrace and rolled to a halt.
'I like to be sure/ I said.
We came up either side of the main picture window. Fischig tried the slider but it was locked.
He stepped back, apparently preparing to shoot the window in.
'It's arma-plex/ I told him, rapping my knuckles off the material. 'Don't be stupid/
I pulled the plastic bag containing Eyclone's effects from my jacket and searched for the compact las-knife. Before I found it, I found the plastic key.
Slim chances but what the crud, as Inquisitor Hapshant used to say.
I slid the key into the frame lock and the window slid aside on motorised rails.
We both waited. Perfumed air and light orchestral music wafted out past us.
Adeptus Arbites! Make yourselves known!' Fischig bellowed, his voice amplified by his helmet speaker.
They did.
Rapid gunfire, heavy calibre, blew away the terrace rail, decapitated potted shrubs and dwarf trees, cropped flower beds, and chopped down the deck's aerial mast.
'Have it your way!' bellowed Fischig and rolled in, pumping his shotgun. The blasts were deafening.
I clambered up a drain-spout onto the second level balcony, my shotgun dangling around my shoulders on its strap. Furious exchanges of fire rumbled below me.
I went in through a gauze-draped opening into the main bedrooms.
The room was over-warm and dark, dressed in red velvet with soothing, ambient music welling from hidden vox-speakers. The bed was in disarray. In one corner, on a gilt credenza, sat a portable vox-set. I padded forward and studied the responder log. Fischig's chaos down below rumbled through the floor like a distant storm.
The girl came out of a side room, a bathroom I imagine, and shrieked when she saw me. She was naked, and dived under the bedclothes for cover.
The muzzle of my shotgun tracked her.
'Who's here?'
She whimpered and shook her head.
'Inquisition/ I hissed. 'Who's here?'
She began to sob and shook her head again.
'Stay down. Get under the bed if you can/
In the adjoining room, I heard whistling. A voice called out a name.
'Don't answer/ I told the weeping girl.
I moved slowly round to the side room door. Light shone out. There was a hint of steam and a smell of bath-oils. The whistling had stopped.
He was wary, I'll give him that. He didn't bluster out, gun blasting.
I tipped open the door with the snout of my weapon and five high velocity rounds shredded holes in the wood panel.
I fell to my belly on the floor and fired three shots in through the door
gap-
'Inquisition! Throw down your weapon!'
Two more shots punched through the door.
I crawled backwards from the doorway and stood up, the gun resting in my hands.
'Come out/1 said, using my will.
A large, tattooed, naked male blundered out of the bathroom, half his face shaved and half covered with sudsy foam. A Tronsvasse Hi-Power autopistol was still in one hand.
'Put it down/1 commanded.
He hesitated, as if my will had no force. A conditioned mind, I supposed. Take no chances.
The autopistol was just pulling up to find me when I blew off his half-shaved face with the shotgun and sent his body splintering back through
the half-open door.
The girl was still crouched, naked, at the end of the bed, shivering. I was surprised she hadn't bolted out of cover at my command too.
I spun to face her.
'What's your name?'
'Lise B/
'Full name!' I snapped. I wasn't concentrating on her especially, but there was something about her. An air. A tone.
Alizebeth Bequin! Pleasure girl! I worked the Sun-dome these past four Dormants!'
'You're here why?'
'They paid up front! Wanted a party! Oh lords…'
