time; she
wanted to see his hands work that way again.
She said, 'Let me ask you something. 1 was up at the ExEx building the other day, and 1
asked if there were any Grove scenarios. It was like 1'd blundered into something. The technician said something about before or after. Then she clammed up.'
'That's right.' He was cold and incredible again.
'What do you mean, that's right?'
'That's right she wouldn't tell you. Who was she?'
'No way. You'll make trouble for her.'
'Sounds like you've already done it. 1 can work out who she was.'
'I'll bet you can. Look, just tell me what she meant. Before or after what?'
'She was asking you, do you want to see the scenario of Grove before he started shooting, or the one after he started shooting?'
'Why should there be two?'
'We're working on it right now. This technician was speaking out of turn.'
'Why should there be two?' Teresa said again.
'Because halfway through his outburst event Grove went to our facility and ran an ExEx scenario. It was aberrant behaviour, coherencewise, but we've got to patch that in to the new scenario. lt makes linearity fade like yesterday. lt has mega-potential for looping. For the first time ever we've got a scenario where someone runs a scenario. You think of the coding that win have to go into that!'
'Where was Grove before he started shooting, and after he left the ExEx building?'
'That was the original question, wasn't it?' said Mitchell. 'Before or after? You're carrying a lot of theories, and they're fastlane crossover. We don't want to hear them.'
Teresa waved her arm in exasperation.
'You never give up, do you?' she said.
'Not until I've got what 1 want.'
'Well, what 1 want, and what I'm going to do, is to go into my room,' she said.
Mitchell made no move; she was still barred from her room unless she pushed past him. Since he showed no sign of getting out of the way, she decided that pushing past him was what she would have to do.
She moved forward, stretching out her hand and turning .her wrist at an angle, to slip the card into the swipelock. Mitchell stayed put, leaning against the upright jamb of the door. His face was only inches away from hers; once again she smelt his lotion. lt summoned an image of him standing before a mirror, moving an aerosol spray across his torso, staring into a condensationblurred mirror.
lt stirred something in her.
His face moved closer.
'What do you do in this hotel, Mrs Simons, all on your own?' he said softly, almost directly into her ear.
Teresa felt the quiet words impacting on her, as if they had coned on to a patch of her skin, somewhere beneath her ear, across her neck, a gentle tactile intrusion with almost musical rhythm. The nerveends across her shoulders prickled, and she felt her face burning. She turned her head to look at him, and his face was right there. Nine inches away, twelve, staring steadily at her. He was so young; it was years since She concentrated again on the lock, not wanting him to judge her as someone who couldn't cope with modem electronic technology. She knew the card had to go in at exactly the right angle, otherwise it relocked the door and she had to start over.
Mitchell spoke again, this time barely breathing the words.
'What's the story, lady?' he said. 'How do you like it done to you?'
She gave up with the key, took a step back and faced Mitchell again.
'What did you say?' she said, flustered.
'Why are you here on your own, Agent Simons? You want it, you can have it with me.'
She said nothing.
A long silence followed, while he continued to stare at her and she had to look away. All she was aware of was his lean, masculine shape, his clean and wellfitting clothes, his neat hair, his firm body, his distracting smell of expensive lotion, his quiet voice, his grey eyes, his smoothly shaved chin, his precise hands, his youth, his slender height, his closeness and his total unwillingness to back down. He held up one hand, palm outwards, at the same level as her mouth.
'You know what I can do with this?' he whispered.
She replied, quietly, 'Will you come in for a while?'
At last he stepped aside to allow her to operate the lock, and she swiped the keycard efficiently, getting it right with the first try, glad not to have to redo it while he was watching, not to have to delay and give herself time to think about what she was doing.
The door opened to a room in semidarkness, light from the streetlamps coming in through the opened curtains, and she went inside with Mitchell. following close behind her. He kicked the door closed. She threw aside her bag, the paperback book, the keycard and its plastic case, heard them all scatter on the floor.
