Download E-books The Jennifer Morgue (A Laundry Files Novel) PDF

By Charles Stross

The identify is Howard. Bob Howard. Please do not damage me...

Bob Howard, geekish demonology hacker for The Laundry, needs to cease a ruthless billionaire from unleashing an eldritch horror, codenamed "Jennifer Morgue" from the ocean's depths for the aim of ruling the world...

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Huh? ” I stare blankly till she gestures impatiently on the huge visual display unit subsequent to me. “Her. There, within the crosshairs. ” We’re status beside a table or console or no matter what with a big flat exhibit. A black beret sitting in entrance of it really is driving herd on a number of keyboards and a trackball: he’s bought approximately seventy zillion small video home windows open on diversified scenes. certainly one of them is paused and zoomed to fill the center of the display. It’s an airport terminal and it appears to be like vaguely regularly occurring, if a bit distorted by means of the humorous lens. numerous individuals are crossing the digicam point of view yet just one of them is centered—a lady in a sundress and massive floppy hat, huge colors concealing her eyes. She’s acquired a messenger bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, and she’s wearing a battered violin case. Very rigorously, I say, “I haven’t a clue. ” confidently the noise of my center pounding away won’t be audible over the ship’s engines. “Why do you think that I should recognize her? what's this, besides? ” I strength myself to appear clear of Mo and locate I’m observing the console in its place, tier upon tier of nineteen-inch rackmount packing containers stacked midway to the ceiling. I blink and do a double take. They’ve obtained lockable cupboard fronts, yet there’s a key caught within the one correct above the display screen. i will be able to see LEDs blinking at the back of it, set in what seems to be suspiciously just like the entrance panel of a laptop. by surprise the USB thumb force in my pocket starts off to itch furiously. “You’ve convinced obtained loads of toys right here. ” Eileen isn’t distracted: “She has whatever to do together with your employers,” she informs me. “This is the tracking hub. ” She pats the visual display unit. a few imp of the perverse tickles her ego, or even it’s the geas. “Here you notice the filtered take from my intelligence queue. lots of the fabric that is available in is garbage, and filtering it's a massive overhead; I’ve acquired complete name facilities in Mumbai and Bangalore trawling the inputs from the similarity grid, trying to find eyes which are gazing fascinating issues, forwarding them to the Hopper for additional research, and eventually funneling them to me the following at the Mabuse. machine displays and keyboards the place the vendors are getting into passwords, ordinarily. yet occasionally we get anything extra worthwhile . . . the woman at the cosmetics stand within the arrivals terminal at Princess Juliana Airport, for instance. ” “Yes, good. ” I make a express of peering on the monitor. “Are you certain she’s who you’re searching for? may well or not it's certainly one of that team, there? ” I aspect at a host of wiry-looking surf Nazis with interestingly even haircuts. “Nonsense. ” Eileen sniffs aristocratically. “The surge within the Bronstein Bridge certainly coincided with that girl crossing the immigration desk—” She stops and stares at me with all of the heat of a cobra analyzing a hot, hairy snack. “Am I monologuing? How unlucky. ” She faucets the black beret on his shoulder. “You, take 5. ” The black beret will get up and leaves in a rush. “It’s very unlucky, this geas,” she explains. “I might spill vital stuff by chance, after which I’d need to ship him to Human assets for recycling.

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