The Demon and the City - By Liz Williams Page 0,10

the animal trotted through the doorway; squeezing past Robin, who backed up against the wall. She felt its heavy, greasy coat brush against her shins and the contact made her shudder. She felt, nauseatingly, as though she'd been molested.

The animal conducted a thorough investigation of the apartment, peering beneath the desk and the sofa and looking into the ashtrays. It paid no attention to the frozen Robin. Eventually, its path returned it to the back door, and now, for the first time, it turned and looked her in the face. Its eyes were neither animal nor human; they held her gaze for a long moment and then the beast raised its head again and laughed. It laughed like a fool, a child, a woman and then it laughed like death. It bunched its squat hindquarters together and sprang through the kitchen hatch. Robin heard its clumsy descent as it bolted down the fire escape. She slammed the hatch closed and sank down on the kitchen floor. She wrapped her arms around her body and clamped her betraying teeth tight and quiet. The kitchen reeked of the uninvited guest, a pungent odor with a rank undertone of meat.

It was some time before Robin could move and when she did, she sat wakeful, staring through the slats of the window by the futon at the small visible patch of sky. Robin's idea of stars was of a faded, pale dust strewn above the western sea, and none were visible now, so close to sunrise. Her imagination ran riot in the dimness of the kitchen. She was sure that she could hear the thing, rooting about again, until the shadowy glow from the street told her that this was only the recycling collector's cart out in the back alley. It was now well past dawn. Robin got up and walked stiffly about the apartment, back and forth. Her legs felt heavy and leaden and her head was furry with lack of sleep; when the videolink sounded, she sat and stared at it for a moment before springing to answer.

"Yes?"

A thin, ascetic face appeared on the little screen. "Citizen Yuan?" it said with faint distaste.

"That's me."

"Giris Sardai. Deveth's father."

"Oh." Robin felt hollow inside, as though her stay of execution was over, but the voice was cool and polite.

"I'm looking for my daughter," Giris Sardai said. "I understand she's a friend of yours." A brief expression of bemusement crossed his features, as though he couldn't understand why this should be.

"She is, yes," said Robin cautiously. "But I haven't seen her for a week. I'm afraid I don't know where she is."

Giris Sardai was silent. The black eyes bored into Robin's own. At last, Deveth's father said, "My wife and I would like you to visit us. Discuss the matter further"—as if this were simply a business proposition and not a question of a missing daughter. His tone made it apparent that this was not open to choice.

"I—that is, I've got to go to work."

"Yes, I'm aware of that." Sardai was patient, as if reasoning with a child.

"Well, when?" Robin asked, feeling feeble and hating herself for it.

"This afternoon would be convenient. I'll talk to your employer. Paugeng, isn't it? Very well. I'll send a car."

And before Robin had a chance to speak, the system closed. Robin, wondering, dressed and left to catch the downtown tram.

She got into Paugeng early that morning, the unreliable tram running like clockwork this time. It seemed much later, the result of rising at dawn. She found Mhara still sleeping. One arm sprawled above his head; the gentle face seemed vulnerable and, somehow, younger. Robin did not want to wake him. Instead, she went to sit at the edge of the cot. His fingers were bound up, as usual. Robin wondered: Why doesn't he try to free them? The dangerous clawed hands were limp in sleep.

"What the hell is going on?" Robin whispered, consulting her sleeping oracle. "Can you tell me?"

The blue eyes opened suddenly. The face was one she did not know: animal and alive. Then the experiment was yawning. There was no reproach in his face for waking him up.

"Did you say something?" he asked politely.

"No," Robin whispered.

"Then I must have been dreaming," the experiment said, and smiled. They ran through the tests and checks in silence and then Robin tidied the lab. She wanted to establish some degree of order, somewhere.

Jhai paid her a visit halfway through the morning.

"Could I have a quick word, Robin? Thanks." Her face