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Chapter 10
’Shetouchedhisshoulder.`Whathappenedtoyou,backthere,man?Youflatlined.’
Heshookhishead.`Idunno,yet.Wait.’
`Okay.Wegetacaborsomething.’ShetookhishandandledhimacrossJulesVerne,pastawindowdisplayingtheseason’sParisfurs.
`Unreal,’hesaid,lookingupagain.
`Nah,’sheresponded,assuminghemeantthefurs,`growitonacollagenbase,butit’sminkDNA.What’sitmatter?’
`It’sjustabigtubeandtheypourthingsthroughit,’Mollysaid.`Tourists,hustlers,anything.Andthere’sfinemeshmoneyscreensworkingeveryminute,makesurethemoneystaysherewhenthepeoplefallbackdownthewell.’
ArmitagehadbookedthemintoaplacecalledtheIntercontinental,aslopingglass-frontedclifffacethatsliddownintocoldmistandthesoundofrapids.CasewentoutontotheirbalconyandwatchedatriooftannedFrenchteenagersridesimplehangglidersafewmetersabovethespray,trianglesofnyloninbrightprimarycolors.Oneofthemswung,banked,andCasecaughtaflashofcroppeddarkhair,brownbreasts,whiteteethinawidesmile.Theairheresmelledofrunningwaterandflowers.`Yeah,’hesaid,`lottamoney.’
Sheleanedbesidehimagainsttherailing,herhandslooseandrelaxed.`Yeah.Weweregonnacomehereonce,eitherhereorsomeplaceinEurope.