Zero History

“But it was your rule, remember? Not mine. After the boxers, you stuck with
musicians.”
“Homunculuses,” Heidi said, nodding, “douche bags.”
“I could’ve told you that,” Hollis said.
“You did.”
The bar’s level of early-evening drinking-crowd noise tilted, suddenly. Hollis looked
up and saw the Icelandic twins, their identical frosty pelts aglitter. Behind them, somehow
worryingly avuncular, loomed Bigend.
“Shit,” said Hollis.
“I’m out of here,” said Heidi, putting down her water and standing, giving her
shoulders an irritated shrug within her new jacket.
Hollis rose too, half-pint in hand. “I’ll have to speak with him,” she said. “About Paris.”
“You’re the one with the job.”
“Hollis,” said Bigend. “And Heidi. Delighted.”
“Mr. Bellend,” said Heidi.
“Allow me to introduce Eydis and Fridrika Brandsdottir. Hollis Henry and Heidi Hyde.”
Eydis and Fridrika smiled identically, in eerie unison. “A pleasure,” said one. “Yes,”
said the other.
“I’m leaving,” said Heidi, and did, men turning to follow her with their eyes as she
strode off through the bar.
“She isn’t feeling well,” said Hollis. “The flight’s affected her throat.”
“She is a singer?” asked either Eydis or Fridrika.
“A drummer,” said the other.
“May I speak with you for a moment, Hubertus?” Hollis turned to the twins. “Please
excuse me. Take these seats.”
As they settled in the armchairs that Hollis and Heidi had vacated, Hollis stepped closer
to Bigend. He’d forgone the blue suit this evening, and wore one in some peculiarly lightabsorbing
black fabric that somehow looked as though it didn’t have a surface. More like
an absence, an opening into something else, antimatter paired with mohair. “I hadn’t
known Heidi was here,” he said.
“We’re all surprised. But I wanted to tell you that I’m going to Paris tomorrow, to try to
speak with someone who may know something about Hounds. I thought I’d take
Milgrim.”
“You got along?”
“Well enough, considering.”
“I’ll have Pamela e-mail you in a few minutes. She can handle any reservations.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll keep track of expenses. But I don’t want to give up my room here,
so I’ll keep it and you can cover that.”
“I already am,” Bigend said, “plus incidentals. Can you tell me anything about Paris?”
“I may have found someone who was involved with whatever the beginning of Hounds