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- Ричард Морган
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"
Just
so
,
"
said
Bancroft
equably
.
"
I
am
the
tree
.
The
police
would
like
to
chop
me
down
,
just
like
that
engineer
.
I
am
inconvenient
to
them
,
and
they
have
no
respect
.
"
I
went
back
to
my
seat
to
chew
this
over
.
Kristin
Ortega
’
s
attitude
was
beginning
to
make
some
sense
at
last
.
If
Bancroft
thought
he
was
outside
the
normal
requirements
of
good
citizenship
,
he
wasn
’
t
likely
to
make
many
friends
in
uniform
.
There
would
have
been
little
point
trying
to
explain
to
him
that
for
Ortega
there
was
another
tree
called
the
Law
and
that
in
her
eyes
he
was
banging
a
few
profane
nails
into
it
himself
.
I
’
ve
seen
this
kind
of
thing
from
both
sides
,
and
there
just
isn
’
t
any
solution
except
to
do
what
my
own
ancestors
had
done
.
When
you
don
’
t
like
the
laws
,
you
go
somewhere
they
can
’
t
touch
you
.
And
then
you
make
up
some
of
your
own
.
Bancroft
stayed
at
the
rail
.
Perhaps
he
was
communing
with
the
tree
.
I
decided
to
shelve
this
line
of
inquiry
for
a
while
.
"
What
’
s
the
last
thing
you
remember
?
"
"
Tuesday
14th
August
,
"
he
said
promptly
.
"
Going
to
bed
at
about
midnight
.
"
"
That
was
the
last
remote
update
.
"
"
Yes
,
the
needlecast
would
have
gone
through
about
four
in
the
morning
,
but
obviously
I
was
asleep
by
then
.
"
"
So
almost
a
full
forty
-
eight
hours
before
your
death
.
"
