“It’s only just past noon,” Serrin said.

“It’s all right for some people, they slept in the car on the way back from Clermont. Not to mention most of the flight home,” Geraint observed.

“Oh. right, sorry.” Serrin had already picked up a sheaf of notes from Michael’s stack and was apparently beginning to contemplate searching through them. Kristen didn’t look too pleased.

“Have a kip, Your Lordship, and I’ll wake you for tea,” Streak said, flipping open a Zippo to light a cigarette.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Geraint observed.

“I don’t,” Streak said, taking a massive drag and holding it in his lungs for some time. His grin grew a little broader.

“Oh, I see. I think I’ll set the alarm clock,” Geraint said sagely arid stretched his arms above his head.

Nearly a thousand miles away, a young man smiled broadly as he jacked out of the Matrix and turned to his companion with an expression of satisfaction.

“They’ve made reservations on a flight to Florence,” he said.

“That seems about right,” the older one said. “They should be in the right place at the right time, I should think.”

“There may be others there.”

“Then perhaps you should be there to meet them. They may need a little gentle steering. It won’t be easy for them to make further progress. And, of course, they’ll almost certainly meet opposition.”

“I may need to return here in a hurry,” the young man frowned. “I mean, Master, in a real hurry.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem, and no, Salai, I haven’t forgotten that there are those who might seek to interfere with that. Nor what they can do. Be gone, then”

“Shall I take a direct approach?”

A pause. “Give them one day and see what they do,” came the considered reply. “Then use your own initiative.”

“Ah, you say that to me so rarely,” the young man said.

“But you so rarely do what I tell you.” he was gently chided in return.

“Which is why you keep me with you.” The young man laughed happily. “Take care, then. It will be soon now.”

“It will, Salai, it will indeed.”

Give them a day? the young man thought as he collected his already-packed cases. I think not. We do have a very good idea of who’s already there. No delays this time. I shall need to move swiftly.

Besides, I was told to act on my own initiative.

Within minutes, the chopper rose over the lagoon and headed westward into the darkness.

19

They gave up any hope of getting their biological rhythms synchronized. At midnight, Michael was wide awake and lively while Serrin and Geraint were tired. Streak seemed inexhaustible but was keeping his own counsel. Kristen was excited at the prospect of seeing the great city of Florence, so it was difficult to determine how tired she actually was. Further delay seemed pointless. Only slightly over eighty hours remained before Michael’s deadline was up.

“At least Renraku seemed happy enough,” Michael told the others. “That is, they’re in a state of barely controlled hysteria. It’s when the control breaks down that they’ll start screaming. In the meantime I got the money. The rewards gone up, too.”

“Reward?” Streak sniffed the air like a well-trained bloodhound. “Someone mentioned a reward?”

“If I play a determining role in keeping Renraku from getting wiped I get the reward,” Michael grinned. “You’re on a retainer. I may cut you in for some of the deal if we succeed.”

“Very generous,” Streak said with feigned nonchalance. “What’re we talking about here?”

“I could stretch it to a hundred,” Michael said.

“A hundred nuyen? Oh, wow, like, carry me out on a gilded-”

“A hundred thousand, slot,” Michael retorted sharply. Before the astonished elf had time to reply, he’d picked up his suitcase and left the room.

They made the small local airport at two in the morning. A security squad had delivered everything they thought they might need from Geraint’s apartment and a no-name, no-number, ex-SAS rigger was along for the ride in the pilot’s seat, hitching a lift, as it were, on his way to other business in Italy. The small private jet rose into British airspace at two-fifteen AM. and entered Florentine airspace at four-forty. The sky was just beginning to hint that the black of night was really only a deep blue deprived of light.

“Airport breakfast and we get collected at six,” Geraint told them. “We have a villa at our disposal.”

“What about security?” Streak asked.

Michael threw up his hands in amazement. “We’re staying with a member of the de Medici family and you ask about security?”

“I don’t know no de Medicis. I’ll need to check it out when we get there.”

“I don’t think so,” Geraint said in his best “We’re paying you, so just for once do what I say” voice. Streak frowned and fell silent.

“There are one or two people I might talk to here” Serrin offered.

“Yeah?’ Michael asked casually.

“Yes.” Serrin apparently wasn’t giving anything away. “And we’d better be careful. The NOJ has force in the city. We need to keep a very low profile.”

“Actually, I’m not even sure what we’re doing here.” Michael said.

Serrin ran it down for him. “One, we’re out of London, where a bunch of watchers are currently taking a very active interest in Geraint’s flat. Two, as I said, there are people I can talk to here. Three, Merlin seemed happy about it. Four, why not? It’s a lovely city.”

“Okay. Just get me through breakfast and let me get my deck set up. I want to snoop around the corps today. Find out who else is onto this and what they’ve got so far.”

“Breakfast in the airport,” Geraint said as they disembarked, “is a depressingly imminent probability. Let’s get it over with, shall we?”

The sky was bright and clear as the horse-drawn carriage took them along the convoluted Viale Machiavelli, through the riotous Boboli gardens, past the Belvedere fortress with its looming clock-tower, toward the Arno River. The air was clear and fresh, the scent of flowers and blooming trees sweet but not cloying. Unlike Venice, a city that had virtually rotted from within around its toxic lagoon and in the deep chemical-soup slurries at the bottom of its canals, Florence had remained more or less beautiful over the centuries. The carriage headed toward the old Roman gateway to the inner city, and then along the broad, straight Via de Serragli toward the Carraia Bridge.

“We’re staying in a villa along the Via Cavour,” Geraint told them, “not far north of the river.”

“Not far from the Baptistery either,” Michael murmured. “A place we should go and see, I think.”

“I’d sure like to take Kristen there,” Senin said.

“Be my guest,” the Englishman replied. “I’ll leave you to it and stick with my deck. Just who’re you going to see here, anyway?”

“I’m not absolutely sure,” Serrin admitted. Michael looked curiously at him, but didn’t press the issue.

“I’ll leave you to your own devices,” Geraint told them. “I decided to get measured for some suits as long as we’re here. My appointment’s at midday.”

“You want me to stay with Mikey boy or tail Serrin and Kristen in case they’re being tracked by any interested parties?” Streak asked.

Geraint looked to Michael. “What do you think?”

“Go with them,” Michael said. “So long as the villa security is good enough.” He looked out the window at the swift-flowing river down below.

“It will be,” Geraint promised. “Trust me. I’ve been here before. Someone tries to kidnap a Medici every week of the year, or so it seems. Quite often it’s one of the other Medicis. The descendants of Cosimo and Lorenzo have some exciting internecine feuds.”

“They run the whole city?” Streak asked.

“More or less,” Geraint said. “The city council is absolutely dominated by them and their proxies. It really isn’t so very different from the fifteenth century-except that they don’t have to worry about being invaded by the French or Spanish.”