Zero History

Hounds haven’t often done things specifically for women. A knit skirt that nobody’s ever
been able to copy, though everyone tries. Your jacket’s unisex, though you’d never know
it, on. Something to do with those elastic straps in the shoulders.” She looked annoyed,
Milgrim thought, but very much in control.
“Would it be out of line to ask how you knew to be there?”
Their first courses arrived, and Meredith waited for the waitress to leave before
answering. When she did, she seemed more relaxed. “I’m not directly connected,” she
said to Hollis. “I’ve been out of touch with that friend I told you about, the one I knew at
Cordwainers, for a few years now. But he’d introduced me to someone else. I’m not in
touch with them either, and don’t know how to contact them. But they put me on a
mailing list. I get an e-mail, if there’s going to be a drop. I don’t know that I get them for
every drop, but there’s no way of knowing that. They aren’t frequent. Since I took
Clammy to buy his jeans, in Melbourne, there’ve only been two e-mails. Prague, and
Tokyo. I happened to be in Tokyo. Well, Osaka. I went along.”
“What were they offering?”
“Let’s eat,” said Meredith, “shall we?”
“Of course,” said Hollis.
Milgrim’s was salmon, and very good. The waitress had let him order from an English
translation of the menu. He looked around, trying to spot Rausch again, but didn’t see
him. A shift in clientele was still under way as people who’d actually only been there, he
guessed, for Bram’s exit, signaled for their bills and departed, some leaving untouched
food. Tables were being quickly cleared, reset, and reseated. The noise level was going
up.
“I wouldn’t want either of you to think I’ll be any less willing to help you with
Inchmale,” said Hollis, “regardless of what you may or may not be able to tell me about
Hounds.”
Milgrim saw George glance quickly at Meredith. “We appreciate that,” George said,
though Milgrim wasn’t sure that Meredith did. Perhaps George was using the band “we.”
“All you really need with Inchmale is someone to tell you where you are in his
process,” Hollis said. “And that’s all I can do, anyway. You can’t change the process, and
if you try hard enough, long enough, he’ll leave. So far, you’re right on track.”
None of this meaning anything to Milgrim, who was enjoying the salmon, in some light
chilled sauce.
“I’m sorry,” Meredith said, “but you’re going to have to tell us who you’re working
for.”
“If I were better at this sort of thing,” said Hollis, “I’d start by telling you about my
book. It’s about locative art.”
“I don’t know the term,” Meredith said.
“It’s what they’re calling augmented reality now,” said Hollis, “but art. It’s been around
since before the iPhone started to become the default platform. That was when I wrote