"FWLS62" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

Night of fun. Oh, the irony. Already I was trying to
decide what I was going to do when I got home... I had a lot of
possibilities, given my stocks of the tools of the trade. I
wanted this clean, though, as clean as a senseless act of evil
could possibly be. I wanted to go to sleep, not stay up all
night working on my fucking points. I was in it this far; I'd
finish it, but quickly and quietly. None of the contraptions,
none of the blades, just the basics. Maybe one blade. I still
had the one I cut up the girl from earlier this night handy,
still wet with her blood.

"Here we are," I said, tapping the code into my keypad. We
proceeded up the stairs, to my archaic but soundproofed
apartment. She followed, like a lamb to the slaughter.

"Say, I was wondering," she asked, climbing ahead of me up
the stairs, rear end swaying back and forth in front of me. "You
said you read about another of those murders tonight. I thought
the Times didn't have an evening edition."

"I didn't say I read about it, I said I saw it," I said.
"Remember? Ugh, what a sight. I can't get it out of my head."

"Don't worry, I'll help you remove that nasty image," she
grinned impishly. Ugh. I was going to be sick. "Which one is
your apartment?"

"12.."

"G," she finished, finding the door and tapping the keypad.
Hadn't I locked the door? "After you," she gestured.

I walked in, quickly examining the place to make sure none
of my tools were lying out in the open. I didn't want her
freaking and running, because it would mean screwing up the path
I was committed to for the evening. She walked in, and shut the
door.

"So, what do you do for fun around here?" she asked,
adjusting her shoulder strap.

"This and that," I said, my stock phrase when asked a tricky
question. "Wait right here, I've got something I need to get
from my bedroom..."

"I don't think so," she said, blaster muzzle jammed into my
back. "Hello. Not-So-Secret-Agent. You were disgustingly easy
to track, Generik."