Wolf in Shadow-eARC by John Lambshead Read Free Book Online Page A

behind him. Health and safety, Rhian reflected, was the new religious mantra that allowed one to justify almost anything.
    “I think that we will start by just walking around and sensing the vibes,” said Frankie.
    The top floor was entirely glass-walled, so Rhian could see from one end to the other. Desks with computers and headsets were laid out in rows. Frankie walked through a reception area into an open-plan office occupying most of the floor. She paraded backwards and forwards, waving her arms theatrically and touching her forehead with the tips of her fingers. Rhian managed not to laugh.
    “What do they do here?” asked Rhian.
    “It’s a call center. I believe they give telephone advice on broadband installation or some such,” said Frankie, vaguely. “I’m surprised they haven’t bangalored it.”
    Management and interview offices lined one of the walls, like glass cells for giant honeybees. A substantial double office at the end indicated the location of the chief executive and his secretary. Rhian touched one of the computer screens. Her finger sparked before contact with the plastic. She kicked the floor, reflexively.
    “I’ve worked in stores with cheap, hard-wearing nylon carpets like this. Sometimes the static builds up so badly that your skirt sticks to your legs,” Rhian said.
    The room was lit with fluorescent lights that flickered annoyingly at a rate just detectable to the human eye. One emitted an intermittent background buzz. Some of the office workers had attempted to personalize their working areas with photos or office toys but that merely emphasized the sheer inhumanity of the environment. The management had scattered potted plants around to improve the ambience, but they were doing badly. The one nearest Rhian showed every sign of being dead. The plastic in the new computers leaked organic vapours.
    Rhian had only been in the office for ten minutes or so, but already her head ached. She rubbed her eyes and tried to open a window, but they were double glazed and sealed. The only fresh air came via an air conditioning system that smelled stale and metallic.
    “Not feeling too well, honey? You seem very sensitive to auras,” Frankie looked at her.
    “What exactly have you been hired to do here?” asked Rhian, deflecting the woman.
    “The chief executive apparently read an article about feng shui in an airline magazine, so he thought he would give it a try to cure his sick building syndrome. Eastern mysticism is currently fashionable amongst the managerial classes.”
    “I see. and you are an expert on feng shui, are you?” asked Rhian.
    “I am—not,” Frankie replied, with a bright grin. “I know next to nothing about it. Hardly anyone in the West does, although there are plenty of people wafting around claiming otherwise.”
    “Then what are we doing here?” Rhian asked, trying to keep the disapproval from her voice.
    “Don’t look so priggish, madam,” said Frankie, laughing and wagging a finger at Rhian. “We are going to cure their sick building. You didn’t think that I’d take their money and cheat them, did you?”
    Rhian colored up because that was precisely what she suspected. “Of course not,” she said.
    “ Feng shui has to be applied at the architectural stage of a building. The choice of location is critical, as is the exact shape of the building. Just rearranging the furniture wouldn’t achieve much.”
    “So what are you going to do?” asked Rhian, intrigued.
    “ Feng shui translates to wind and water, and by a strange coincidence, we are going to apply the principles of wind and water. Now where did I put the herbs?”
    Frankie reached into her linen bag and rummaged around, eventually hauling out a wooden container. She handed the box to Rhian, who opened it to find dried herbs mixed in with newly chopped-up leaves that smelt of mint. Frankie took out a tiny electric oven, and, after some thought, placed it on a desk by the air-conditioning