Daemon

plastic water bottle. ‘Electrolytes. Better drink up.’
    Sebeck realized just how thirsty he was. He cracked open the water and drank deeply. His throat throbbed.
    Price continued. ‘Ol’ One-eye’s been asking for ya. He’s all up in my grill, an I’m like, yo, back off, Methuselah. That sprite is a screen saver from hell, I swear it, man. He’s a fourth-dimensional stain.’
    Sebeck finished the bottle. ‘You want to say that again in English?’
    ‘For being in charge, you seem woefully uninformed.’
    ‘What do you mean, “in charge”?’
    Price threw up his hands. ‘See, you gotta talk to One-eye. Hang on a sec.’ Price headed over to a locked cabinet, pulled out a choked key ring, and started cycling through the keys. He talked while he searched. ‘You know, it’s an honor to finally meet you. You drew a lot of ink. Most of it said you were evil incarnate, but we all know that’s horseshit. That Anji Anderson chick is out to get you, but evil or not, that bitch is fuckin’ hot. I’d do her. Evil Daemon bitch. Laney likes the bad girls …’
    Sebeck was looking around the room again. ‘You were talking to someone earlier. Something about myths and rhyme.’
    Price paused. ‘You heard that?’
    ‘Is someone else here?’ Sebeck glanced around cautiously.
    Price just snickered to himself. ‘Yeah, bad habit from working with dead people.’ He stuck a key in the lock. ‘They’re good listeners, though. Haven’t heard a complaint yet.’
    He rummaged around in the cabinet and came out with a sealed plastic box. Price walked back to the examining table, struggling to open the seal. ‘Damned things. It’s the Asians that do this.’ He fished around among the scalpels on his work-table, near the body of the old man. ‘You know, the average Chinese factory worker must think Americans are insane. Picture this: you work at a plant that makes Halloween stuff – you know, like, rubber severed heads. And you’re all like: Americans decorate their homes with severed heads? These fuckers are savages, man.’
    Sebeck slowly leaned forward and tried to stand. He still felt woozy.
    ‘I wouldn’t do that yet if I were you.’
    ‘You’re not me.’ Sebeck managed to stand, still holding the table to steady himself. ‘So, you say I created this place?’ He glanced around. ‘By sending that message to the Daemon?’
    Price got the box open. ‘All will become clear, young grasshopper, when you talk to One-eye. Then maybe he’ll get off my ass.’ Price pulled an intricate and expensive-looking pair of sports sunglasses from the box. It was sealed in yet another plastic bag. ‘Why do they do this shit?’ He started biting into the plastic and twisting.
    ‘One-eye?’
    Price gave him a look. ‘Do you have several one-eyed undead freaks stalking you, Sergeant? Should I be more specific?’
    Sobol
.
    Price now pulled the glasses out of the bag. They were stylish, with yellow-tinted lenses and hip frames, but the posts were unusually thick. Price also pulled a thick beltlike device from the box. He glanced at Sebeck and started adjusting a strap. ‘Just take me a sec. You’re a what, size thirty-eight?’
    ‘Thirty-four.’
    ‘Damn. I’ve gotta lose about forty pounds myself. But then again, you were on the’ – air quotes here – ‘Lompoc prison diet.’
    Sebeck just pointed at the glasses.
    ‘Oh, HUD – heads-up display. It’s an interface to the Daemon network. Check this shit out.’
    ‘The Daemon network?’
    ‘Can’t see the TOP without the HUD.’
    ‘Stop with the acronyms.’
    ‘I’ve got acronyms for my acronyms.’ He held up the belt and clicked a battery into place. ‘Ready. Here, put this on.’ He handed it to Sebeck.
    Sebeck took it warily. It was like a thick money belt and was made of black, stretchable nylonlike material with a sleek titanium buckle.
    Price was fiddling with the glasses. ‘The belt’s a combination satellite phone, GPS, and wearable computer. Methaneoxide fuel cell battery’ll last for about three days. Works in conjunction with the glasses. Be careful with it. It’s ruggedized and water-resistant, but don’t go driving nails with it. The glasses alone cost about fifty thousand dollars.’
    Sebeck was taken aback. ‘What, are you joking? Who paid for them?’
    ‘Daemon’s got cash, bro. Hell, you ain’t seen nothing.’
    ‘Why’s it giving them to me? I want to
destroy
the Daemon.’
    ‘Because it wants to have a word with