The Apocalypse Codex by Charles Stross Read Free Book Online Page A

pauses. “Okay. The LUDWIG NIGHT outcome—that’s positive, as per my report, although it was closer than I’m happy about. I take it the asset has been returned to inventory?”
    “Yes.” Lockhart nods. “The valuation committee have been asked to report on it but I don’t think there’s going to be any problem authorizing full payment of all your expenses. A job well done, after all.”
    “Good.” She watches while Lockhart flips the page.
    “Next item. There’s a candidate from within the organization—”
    “ Within the organization?” She leans forward, suddenly attentive.
    “Yes,” says Lockhart. “He’s been tapped for advancement on the basis of his track record in general operations, but he really needs a spin around the block and an evaluation by…well, someone like yourself. I gather Mahogany Row want to know if he’s got the right stuff. So he’s been assigned to me, and I was thinking, if you don’t object, of assigning him to you as liaison on the next suitable excursion?”
    “You want me to test-drive your new assistant?”
    “Yes, more or less. I don’t think you’ll find him a spare wheel, I hasten to add, although first appearances can be deceptive: he’s a poor fit within the regular civil service framework, too prone to picking his own targets and going after them unilaterally—but he gets results. So the promotion board thought it might be worth trying him out on a more, ah, independent command, as it were.”
    “Really? Well, hmm. If you could send me his HR file, that would help me make my mind up. But we can always use a bit of free-thinking in this line of work. If you want to saddle me with a field liaison officer, it’d be best if you pick one who doesn’t expect me to file reports every sixty minutes.”
    “Noted.” Lockhart pauses to jot down her request. “I’ll have it seen to later today.” He folds his notepad and slides it away.
    “Are we done, then?” she asks.
    “Mostly. There’s another job I’d like to talk to you about, but not here. It’s urgent, I’m afraid.”
    “Really?” She looks at him sharply. “Do you have a tight schedule?”
    “Yes; it’s a rush job and we need to get the ball rolling by close of business today. Most hush-hush.”
    “I see. Well, depending on how long it takes…I’ve been summoned for jury service next month, did I say? Terrible nuisance. Perhaps we should continue in the studio?”
    “Of course.” Lockhart follows her out into the hall. “And I shouldn’t worry about the jury duty; these things have a habit of falling through cracks. Unlike other types of public service I could mention.”
    Persephone walks back into the house, past the broad staircase and the dining room and kitchen, into a narrower, stone-flagged passage obviously designed for servants’ use. She opens a narrow wooden door: there is a spiral staircase, ascending into brightness.
    At ground level the house appears to be the residence of a society lady: afternoon tea at Fortnum & Mason’s, dinner parties for Ruperts and Jocastas, season tickets to Glyndebourne. But as he climbs the staircase the illusion falls away. And as ever, Lockhart can’t quite shake the feeling that he’s entering the wicked witch’s tower.
    They ascend a long way—almost fifty steps, clearly passing through the first and second floors of the house. There are no exits below the top, but daylight bulbs behind tall frosted glass panes like arrow-slit windows provide illumination.
    Lockhart has seen external photographs of the house, and the floor plans on file with the council planning department, and he knows there’s no spiral staircase from the former pantry to the attic according to the official deeds. Nor would a casual intruder even be able to see the entrance to the stairwell. Persephone Hazard is not the kind to skimp on security.
    The staircase ends at another door. Persephone waits for him at the top, looking as cool and collected as ever; Lockhart