TechnoFox

Chapter One: Candi on the Inside

Written by Nathan Cowen

Copyright © 2007 by Nathan Cowen, all rights reserved. Reproduction and distribution of this work by any means without the expressed written permission of the author, or hotlinking from another website without the expressed written permission of the author and BondoFox, is expressly forbidden. Similarity to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.

This is a sequel to my earlier work, FireFox. I've made efforts to recap the story as unobtrusively as possible. It should be possible to follow this story without reading the predecessor, but I suggest reading Firefox first, as Technofox will contain spoilers.

This work was inspired by art copyright Dynotaku. The Foxforce Four are his creation and intellectual property.

The earliest lesson a Blue Diamond girl learned was the whip. The first ten lashes Technofox received were not punishment. They were a promise and a demonstration.

She tried to stand, because her wrists ached. Each blow had driven her away from the whip, forced her to throw her weight against the bonds on her wrists, in a desperate, futile effort to lessen the impact. Her legs were too weak to hold her up, but her wrists hurt too much to hold up her weight.

His hand rested lightly on her shoulder. His touch was steady; her body was shaking uncontrollably. Despite herself, she drew strength from his hand. It was a steady reference point in a world that seemed to twist and turn in on itself, even though she knew that her own perceptions were twisting, and not the world. She was grateful for the touch, it was something she could rely on.

She smelled terror and pain in a thick fog, stifling her even though she knew it was hers. She heard her own breath, light and raspy, panting. She tried to open her mouth wider, but she was muzzled and there was a rubber bit keeping her teeth from meeting. She was grateful for that, since it had kept her from biting her tongue. She was finding small things to be grateful for.

She could feel air moving through her red fur, unimpeded by clothing. She could remember being mortified by that, and now it seemed so unimportant.

Technofox was too afraid, too panicked to think clearly, or even to think in words. She liked words and numbers, black figures snaking across a white screen, things that had one meaning that she could use to steady her thoughts and her world. Right now, though, she did not think; she felt. She hated that. Her brain wasn't working right, she didn't see words; there were only sensations. The clarity and sharpness that delighted her was gone, leaving only fuzz and anxiety and emotion. Everything she was proud of in herself had been driven from her by something as simple as a whip, leaving nothing behind but a whimpering, frightened animal.

Her ribs and back felt as though they were on fire, and she heard the end of the whip moving softly and lightly across the floor. And then she heard words, and what was more, she understood them. Almost as well as she now understood the whip.

Words. He had told her to say words. She didn't want to say the words. There was something fearful about the words. Could they be worse than the whip? It was hard to imagine.

His words, in contrast, were kindly, as steady as the hand on her shoulder, and as reassuring.

"You're a very smart girl," he said, encouragingly. "I think you understand the whip already."

He praised her, he said she was smart, and she liked that. She was grateful for that too. He used words, and she understood them, even over the sensations she felt. Those sensations carried their own meaning, a meaning almost impossible to put into words, something primal, something that Technofox knew her mind was built on. He had two hands. One rested gently on her shoulder. The other held a whip, a whip that moved lightly on the floor, a sound like a snake. She could choose between them.

It was Boolean. She felt relief when she realized it. She could choose between those hands. One choice, two options. There was a default setting. If she did not choose, he would use the whip.

She could override the default. If she said the words.

"Say. The. Words," he repeated softly, insistently.

Words, she thought desperately. She liked words, but she could not remember the words he wanted to hear. She didn't want to say the words. She would rather say the words. He would hit her again if she didn't say the words.

"I thought you understood the whip," he said sadly. He removed his hand from her shoulder. He stepped back --

"No," she gasped out. "No more. Please."

"You will have more unless you say the words," he said patiently. "Be good. Say them."

She didn't want the whip. She didn't know what she wanted, but she knew she didn't want that. It wasn't about what she wanted. It was about what he wanted. Surrender? No ... collaboration.

"Master," she said, "take me to your bed."

His hand gripped her shoulder tightly. "Good girl," he said. "Smart girl. You learned as quickly as any Blue Diamond girl I've taught. Can you walk?"

Technofox nodded slightly, more because she knew it would please him than because she knew she could walk. It was important to please him. She knew that. Her tail wagged, uncertainly.

The cable was attached to leather cuffs around her wrists, and they held her arms up, so she could not move or cover her naked body. Her ankles were attached to the floor in the same way, her thighs pulled slightly apart. He undid the cables. Her wrists and ankles were still attached to one another by short chains, as though she had the energy to fight. He took the short leash dangling between her breasts and turned her collar around, so the D-Ring was at the back of her neck.

She stepped forward, taking short steps, because of the hobble connecting her ankles. She felt light-headed, but she was determined to keep walking forward. Her vision began to change; colors became desaturated, as though the light was dimming and her night vision was kicking in. Her eyes closed, and she decided it would be good to lay down.

Before she fell, he caught her in two strong arms and lifted her. Technofox was barely over five feet tall, and although her muscle density was much higher than a human's, he carried her as easily as a doll. Trustingly, she gripped his arm. He had hurt her, but she had said the words, and he wouldn't hurt her again.

When she woke, he was spreading her ankles. She wore nothing but fur and five loops of red leather, around her ankles and wrists and throat. She was spread-eagled on a bed, laying naked on top of the blankets. She was a small woman and the bed was big; perhaps she was stretched more tightly than most women would be. Her hands and feet didn't come close to the bed frame. She thrashed, and the welts on her back slid across the soft sheets; she flinched, and settled down.

He was looking at her, as he took off his shirt, revealing body builder muscles, perfectly proportioned, as though some statue of Apollo had come to life. He was so much bigger than she was. She didn't believe he needed her chained.

She looked down at the length of her own body, at her white belly, her breasts, her nipples. Her fur had been trimmed around them so they showed better. She saw her legs, held invitingly open, the soft mound between them, the lips parted slightly.

The bulge in his underwear was enormous.

"No," she said, her voice shaking. "Please, no."

He smiled and shook his head.

"You don't know what you're asking of me," he said.

He reached his hand down and ran his knuckles gently over her face. She gasped and turned away, but he ignored that.

"There is an angel tied to my bed," he said softly. "And I want her more than any woman in the world."

"Liar," she said confidently.

"And I know her secret. And I can help her with it."

Despite herself, Technofox jerked her head over to stare at him.

And he leaned over, and whispered her secret into her ear.

And hearing it said was the second violation.

"You've never climaxed before, have you?" he said, softly, as though sharing a confidence.

"Whu- what?" Technofox replied, shocked and speechless. Hearing things like that, spoken out loud, was more of a shock than a blow.

"You heard me," he said firmly. "What was it like, sharing an apartment with those three, listening to them talk about what they felt with their lovers? Did you pretend you enjoyed sex, just so they wouldn't look down at you? Did you describe feelings you knew you were supposed to have, quoting from books you read? And in all that time, did you ever have a man in you without wishing he'd just get it over with and leave you alone?"

She closed her eyes and turned away, gritting her teeth. He grabbed her muzzle, and easily forced her to face him. She kept her eyes closed.

"No matter what you think, no matter what they told you, there is nothing wrong with you," he assured her. "You're not frigid. You're not less than a woman. It's just that you are a slave, and nobody has taken you as a slave before. And that is what you were engineered to be. You are a Blue Diamond girl, and Blue Diamond girls are pleasure."

"My model was optimized for electronic and mechanical maintenance. I'm a technician," she corrected him.

"Of a sort," he said, amused. She heard him slip out of his pants, and the mattress moved as he lay next to her. Her eyes opened, unbelieving. There was some part of her that refused to accept this was happening. She was a free chimera! She was self-owned! He couldn't do this!

His hand rested gently on her. She gasped and tried to twist away. She screamed, as loud as she could with the muzzle.

"Now, now," he said firmly. "That won't help." He stroked her belly, flat and hard. "You are too beautiful, too desirable, too wonderful a woman. I cannot leave here without having you. You were designed to be the most desirable thing in the world. I will have you, and you will feel something that's been denied you until now."

She felt the pressure of his body as he rolled onto her. His weight pushed her bruises against the bed; she recoiled, and her movement excited him. To her shock, she realized she was wet, so wet that she knew he could slip it into her without any additional lubricant -- and that, she found herself thinking, was a first.

His lips pressed against her muzzle, the tip of his tongue flicked past her lips and darted in between her teeth, held slightly apart by a bit.

"Don't," she whispered, "Please, don't." It was insane. She was not a virgin, she didn't have rape fantasies, she didn't want this, she had never felt so excited before, anticipation glowing in her, wanting him so much it hurt.

He moved away from her. She opened her eyes. Was it possible he would relent? It seemed unlikely.

He smiled at her.

"A Blue Diamond girl will climax for her Master, because that is her Master's will. You will come for me before I take you."

He kissed her shoulder, and she tried to twist away, but the chains held her. His hand moved down, between her legs. She squirmed, but he shifted his weight across her, holding her hips down. That was a relief: the blows before had landed higher.

How many women had he taken this way? He moved with frightening confidence, like using an unwilling woman was something he had done many times before and would do many times in the future. She imagined Firefox, Shadowfox, Silverfox in this bed, and felt a hate she could not have imagined.

His finger slipped inside her for lube; she shuddered at the intrusion, but gasped when his finger moved gently across her clitoris.

The sensation was shocking, unreal in its intensity. Technofox had tried sex a few times, with limited success. She sometimes thought of herself as a latent heterosexual. This jolt of pleasure forced a gasp out of her. She had never experienced anything like it before. His mouth found her nipple and, gently, he began to suckle at her.

She had read about feeling like this. She had thought it was fiction. She gasped again, twisted her head away, tried to fight it. She jerked at her chains, not because she thought she could escape or prevent his touch, but to fight the pleasure that shot through her frame, stranger and more frightening than the chains and the whip.

"I wonder how you taste?" he asked, and he moved down, his body sliding over her fur, his weight leaving her.

She thrashed and shrieked, but he put his hands under her buttocks and lifted her, taking up the slack. This shifted her weight higher, put pressure on her welts; she tried to stop struggling, because it was hurting. She looked down at the top of his head, as his tongue probed around her labia.

"Don't," she whispered.

His tongue touched her, and she gasped again. Oh, it was sweet; sweeter than anything she had imagined.

Every time the tip of his tongue flicked over her, she gasped, and twitched, and not to fight, but because she couldn't prevent it. She looked down at the top of his head, his reddish-brown hair, past her breasts and their tight, hard nipples; she could pretend, in a strange way, that it wasn't him. Was that what she should do -- imagine another's tongue and head between her legs?

But that would make it better, she knew, and she desperately didn't want him to do what she knew he would do.

She had never felt one before, but she knew what it was as it gathered inside her. Ted had given her oral sex, working at her until she relented and faked what she was now feeling for real. It was wrong that she should feel this way for the first time here, in a rapist's bed.

But she understood why -- and she realized it was the first violation, the one that all the others were built on, a violation that had taken place before her birth; a violation that had been planned inside a DNA simulation program, a twist in her brain laid down before her conception.

But even that, even knowing that, even that realization didn't keep the climax from overwhelming her, from involuntary cries and body language rewarding the man who was toying with her before the rape. It didn't keep her from wanting more.

***

Technofox awoke, shaking, alone in her bed. Her nipples were hard, the fur between her legs slick with her own excitement. She gasped slightly, touched herself, delighted in the thrill that ran through her. She panted, like an animal, as though exhausted. Like a Blue Diamond Girl, waiting for a touch.

Blue Diamond Girl.

It was a phrase that Technofox stumbled across now and then; a reference on a message board, a punch line from a comedian; or half-heard in the soft rumble of conversation drifting over a crowd; maybe half-imagined, the way she sometimes imagined hearing a voice call out name. If she heard it, her ears would twitch, rotate to cup the sound, flatten. And she would try not to respond, but it was impossible not to look, to see if she recognized a face she would rather forget, and bring back thoughts that would never leave her.

"Blue Diamond Girl" meant a lot of things; beauty, elegance, a sort of easy sensuality. Those were lies, advertising hokum, an image projected by the management of the Blue Diamond slave brothel, and the Machine Intelligence designated "Blue" that -- or perhaps who -- operated it. Even after the story of what happened there came out, the phrase still had a certain cachet that repulsed Technofox.

It had been six months since Blue Diamond had burned, and a lot of Technofox was still in Blue Diamond.

To Technofox, "Blue Diamond Girl" meant violation. Various forms and types of violation. None were purely physical.

Technofox was a chimera, an artificial intelligence made from different animal species, predominantly but not limited to human and vulpine. Like most chimera, her brain had been grown inside a matrix of molecule-thin wires; an elaborate body-temperature SQUID that permitted a direct interface between herself and a variety of digital equipment. She was small for a woman, but despite that she was considerably tougher than most plain vanilla, non-upgraded humans.

This was not always a good thing; it was why she was still conscious after being introduced to the whip.

She remembered that introduction.

That first violation had a layer beyond the obvious. It was more than a beating; it was an introduction to the whip, something so wildly out of regular experience it had to be demonstrated. A threat was not enough; it would not be believed. Every Blue Diamond Girl had to understand the whip. Not just intellectually; not just second hand. It couldn't be shown; it had to be experienced. Understanding the whip had to be part of her soul, more a part of her than her name, which Blue Diamond would change anyway.

She shouldn't spend so much time thinking about Blue Diamond. It was unhealthy and impractical to spend so much of her time thinking about Blue Diamond. She whispered that, kneeling on her bed, as her thumbs stroked the outsides of her breasts lightly, and she thought about Blue Diamond.

It was late, or maybe early. The traffic sounds were barely audible, and she was sure the others were asleep. Firefox and Silverfox had guests; Shadowfox was out, chasing down a lead in the case they were working on. She touched the sides of her breasts, ran thumbs over her nipples, shuddered and suppressed a moan.

She took her glasses off her nightstand and put them on. Her left eye was slightly nearsighted, but she had never had Lasik to correct it because the glasses provided UV protection as well as correction. Her glasses were about fifty percent affectation; she liked they way they looked on her and she found their weight and the way they pinched her muzzle comforting in an odd way. Artificials often picked up little habits like that; with chimera production runs in the thousands, and "childhood" a sham of VR training and supervised courses, things like that made one feel more like an individual.

She should work, she knew. The Inter-Corporate Operative Network had Foxforce Four chasing down an assassin the enforcement community called "7.62." There was a lot of data to sift through, and she still had reports to finish. It was unhealthy and impractical to spend so much of her time thinking about Blue Diamond. It had been six months since that mission had been completed, it had been successful, and it was important she focus on their most recent assignment. She was a valuable resource and she needed to apply herself.

Unlike the last two assignments, 7.62 offered more than a paycheck. Getting 7.62 before he killed more chimera rights activists was a mission she believed in.

Blue Diamond was over and done with. It was unhealthy and impractical to spend so much of her time thinking about Blue Diamond. She was an intelligence asset and wallowing in Blue Diamond was emotionalism she despised.

And it was wrong to find those thoughts so exciting.

She certainly had more important things to do than finger herself.

She touched her breast, touched a claw to her nipple, shivered with the wordless sensation that shot through her.

Like a diabetic in the ice cream aisle, Technofox looked down at her breasts, cupped in her hands. She had been working hard recently. Maybe she could indulge...

She had eliminated four suspects this week; traffic analysis and purchases put them in the wrong places at the wrong time. The good news was that cleared up some dead ends. The bad news was that had eliminated all their best suspects, leaving only one bad one.

Maybe she deserved a reward...

She thought of visiting Firefox or Silverfox. No; they had guests. Although Firefox's guest might be glad to see her again -- no, he didn't have pictures of her in his portfolio. He had taken her out of his portfolio. And that didn't hurt her feelings. She knew that his portfolio had to have the prettiest, most attractive images, and she knew she wasn't pretty or attractive. He had made her feel that way in Blue Diamond, the only man there she wasn't ashamed of for wanting inside her. Removing those pictures was professional, and Technofox respected that. And it didn't hurt her feelings.

No, she couldn't see Firefox tonight. But she could do something else. Did she dare? She had done it the other night, and nobody had seen her. She pulled on her robe, listening intently.

Having made the decision that she deserved to touch herself and could do it with a clear conscience, she reached under her pillow and took out the tiny data card, in its slim yellow case, and slipped it into a pocket. Silently, without turning on any lights, she drifted across the floor to the door of her room, and then down the hall to the den. She didn't rely on light as much as a human would; she could navigate by memory and by hearing the soft sounds echo off the walls. Her eyes slowly adapted, throwing the light through her retina twice; glowing softly.

Their bonus for the Blue Diamond mission had gone towards a state-of-the-art home theater. Technofox didn't like using her neural implant to watch video; the experience was too overwhelming, like VR sessions used for behavior modification and training. The screen on the home theater was much better than the one on her computer, and she could pipe the audio to her implant so the other foxes couldn't hear.

And, she had to admit, the risk of discovery added a special kick to it.

She let her robe open as she fed the chip into the home theater. Like the risk she'd be seen, that added something to it, the feeling of being exposed, a breast uncovered and her belly and mound showing as the robe opened and closed. It made her feel as though her body was something people liked to see.

"Morning, Tech," Silverfox said brightly, stepping into the room, wearing a reddish brown robe. "Couldn't sleep either?"

Technofox jumped and turned in mid-air, landing and staring at Silverfox.

Silverfox was average height for a woman, and was quite a bit bigger than Technofox. She was a light combat model, and she looked it: Firefox was bigger and stronger than the gray fox, but Silverfox had the build of a woman who could do fifty pushups and who did marathons. She didn't have Shadowfox's elegance or Firefox's spectacular chassis, but Technofox always thought Silverfox was the one she'd most like to resemble: Firefox and Shadowfox caught too much attention.

The lovely gray fox woman looked back at her, lips pursed, and blinked once, slowly. "You live in the House of Hot Bisexual Fox Chicks and you're masturbating to porn? Without inviting someone to watch, even? What a waste." She shook her head sadly.

Clearly, there was no point in even pretending it wasn't true. Instead, Technofox looked away and closed her robe. Silverfox smiled amiably.

"Come here, Tech," she said. "Let me do this for you."

Technofox shook her head, less a refusal than bewilderment. "Didn't you bring a date home? What if she comes out here and--"

"Half right," Silverfox said. Silverfox perched on one of the chairs. She seemed to be forcing herself to sound casual. "It's a guy."

"Really?" Technofox said, surprised. "I thought you said you were getting back together with Janet."

Silverfox shrugged. "Didn't work out." Her face clouded, slightly, and she opened the drinks cooler Technofox had made from a cryonic sample store, and took out a small bottle of milk. She cracked the top, licked around the edge, as though trying to come up with something to say. "She decided that I have betrayed the fundamental principles of the She-Knights of Lesbos, and has cast me from the sisterhood."

Silverfox, of course, was being somewhat facetious. Janet, true to the stereotypes, owned a bookstore, incredibly enough named "Womynfyre," presumably because the letter "e" was sexist. As far as Technofox knew, there was no such thing as the "She-Knights of Lesbos." On the other hand, Technofox reflected, a person who would name a store "Womynfyre" might well be capable of anything.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Technofox replied, not sure what to say. "Janet was one of your long ones, wasn't she?" Janet was an exception. Silverfox had been more than usually attached to Janet. About a year ago, before Blue Diamond, Silver had gotten Foxforce to do some pro bono work; hunting down some vandals and negotiating a mutually beneficial pact whereby the vandals would stop putting bricks through the windows of lesbian bookstores and Foxforce would stop setting their cars on fire. It had only taken three days, and had been a pleasant break from more serious work.

The thank-you party Janet had thrown was also nice, if a little strange to remember; two women had tried to pick up Technofox, and she remembered declining on the grounds she was straight. More than that, she remembered that it was true then.

"Janet's an ass," Silverfox said dismissively, turning slightly away.

"So, who is your date?" Technofox asked cautiously. She didn't want to ask if it was someone new, because that would sound sarcastic.

"Mike or Mark, I forget," Silverfox said. "The important thing is that he went down on me without my having to ask." She beamed at her. "It's not luck, you know. I'm just very good at finding gentlemen of breeding and distinction."

"You and guys. It's still weird," Technofox said. She blanched. "I mean, not you, for me," she said hastily, trying to cover up. "I mean, the fact you're seeing men," Technofox said. "Before Blue Diamond, you--" Technofox cut herself off. "It's just that you were so intent on women before," she finished, lamely. She knew that she was making it worse, but couldn't stop. "You said that women were nice to you." Okay, she didn't think she could make it worse after that.

"Maybe the dykes of Boston were so thrilled to have their very own pet lezzie fox girl that--" Silverfox cut herself off. Silverfox didn't let herself get angry. "It's just a matter of taste, right?" Silverfox asked.

"Right," Technofox agreed brightly, nodding over and over again. "Blue Diamond did a lot to us," Technofox said tentatively.

"Don't be silly," Silverfox said. "Fun's fun, and life is too short to question everything that makes you feel good. I didn't think I'd like men, and I was wrong." She shrugged. "It's like sushi, I think. I didn't think I'd like that until I tried it."

"You didn't try men," Technofox said. "They raped you. You're a lesbian. Blue Diamond conditioned you to associate the smell of semen with a state of mild euphoria induced through your neural implant."

Silverfox paused.

"And I think men appreciate you more than women," she said. "I mean, there's a guy I know who would like me to be his mistress. Not that I'm considering it seriously, but isn't it kind of cool? That a guy would support me just for being there for him when he's in town? Or are you saying there's something wrong with me because I like men?" Silverfox asked, quizzically.

"...No," Technofox said.

"You didn't like women before," Silverfox said quietly. "Is that different?"

Technofox rubbed the end of her nose. "...Well, not really," she said. "I mean, I didn't have any women lovers, but I sort of wondered about it." Actually, she had fantasies about Firefox, but there was nothing strange about that. Homosexual men had fantasies about Firefox. She wondered sometimes if it was an atavistic canid thing -- Firefox was sort of their pack alpha, and maybe it had less to do with wanting to bed Firefox than wanting to mate with the alpha male. She certainly hadn't fantasized about sex with other women. Not before.

Silver relaxed. "Maybe that's it," she said. "I think we all wonder about it, no matter how straight or gay you are. And when you find out it's not as bad as you thought -- say, what's on the video?" Silverfox pointed to the video deck, with Technofox's card.

Technofox snatched the card away, and snapped the slim yellow case shut.

"Hey, sorry," Silverfox said, just slightly put out. "It's not like we haven't --"

"Stop that," Technofox said, her guts knotting with tension.

"...Sorry," Silverfox said, in a different tone. Sincere, this time. She put an arm on Technofox's shoulder; steady and reassuring.

"No, it's not you," Technofox replied. "It's just..." she trailed off, because she wasn't sure what she was going to say.

"It's okay," Silverfox said. She looked away for a moment. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I come on too strong, maybe." She kissed Technofox gently.

"Maybe," Technofox allowed, swallowing the understatement.

Silverfox dropped lightly to the chair, opening her legs and arms. She smiled. "Come here, pretty girl," she said softly.

"But --" Technofox said, and she had to strain for an objection. "But what if Mike-or-Mark sees us? What will he think?"

"That he has entered paradise," Silverfox replied confidently. "C'mon. Let's see if I can make you wake up everyone else in the apartment."

"We really shouldn't," Technofox said, sitting in Silverfox's lap.

Silverfox's arm wrapped around Technofox, and she pulled her own robe open, so there was nothing between the two of them except Technofox's own robe. Silverfox's tongue flicked over the edge of Technofox's ear, and she nuzzled and nibbled at the ruff of fur on her neck.

"Comfy?" Silverfox asked. The smaller woman nodded.

Technofox sighed, and encouraged, Silverfox slipped a hand into the smaller fox's robe.

"You're such a pretty little thing," she said, and started stroking Technofox's left breast as her other hand trailed down Technofox's belly.

She played with Technofox's breast, feeling it move under her fingers, feeling the weight and the firmness, stroking the fur and tugging at it lightly.

Technofox opened her legs to let her touch her lower.

"You're so wet," Silverfox whispered. "You're such an excited girl, you're as excited as I am. You're such a little firecracker now." She chuckled and licked her cheek.

"Now?" Technofox asked. It was something they never talked about, but they all knew it. Silverfox meant "Since Blue Diamond." Blue Diamond was the great benchmark of their lives. It was impractical to think so much about Blue Diamond.

Silverfox half-smiled. "Won't you tell me what excites you so much?" Her teeth touched her.

"You do," Technofox lied, wishing that by saying it she could make it true. She turned partway around and licked Silverfox's muzzle.

Silverfox tweaked her nipple and touched her clitoris at the same moment. Technofox jerked forward, and cried out.

"She's so pretty," Silverfox said, "She's so pretty and she makes such pretty sounds for me."

Silverfox's voice was so low, and so husky, that it sounded like something in a dream.

Then Silverfox fell silent, as she used her teeth on Technofox's coat, nibbling lightly on one side, and then another. Technofox's nipples were hard now, her right breast aching for a touch.

"That's right," Silverfox whispered. "Just relax, just let me--"

And it would be so easy, Technofox thought, so easy to let the feelings gathering in her overcome her and -- and it felt so good, and it felt good because at Blue Diamond they --

Abruptly, Technofox slid off Silverfox's lap, slipping through her hands, dropping to the floor. Before Silverfox could move, the little fox knelt and turned, pushing her muzzle against Silverfox's cleft.

"But --" Silverfox began.

Technofox started licking her then, fiercely. She felt the excitement in her own body flow, somehow, into Silverfox, and in an instant, Silverfox was as close as she had been a moment ago. Technofox continued to push, harder. She tasted what Mike or Mark had left inside Silverfox, and that made her lick more eagerly. Silverfox's hands were on her shoulders, and Technofox knew Silverfox was about to push her away, so Technofox put her hands behind Silverfox's back, interlocked her fingers, to hold herself there for those few moments she needed.

Silverfox hunched forward and gasped, and then cried out. Her body tensed, and shook. Technofox stopped, lapped lightly, and smiled up at Silverfox.

Silverfox stared down at her for a moment, and laughed, and shook her head. "Silly girl," she said playfully.

"Why?" Technofox asked.

"Your turn," Silverfox whispered.

"I'm sort of tired," Technofox replied, standing, rubbing lightly at her snout. She was lying. She could taste Silverfox, salty, and delicious. She was wet, and she wanted relief.

"Well, let me do the work," Silverfox said. "I owe you three or four now."

Technofox kissed her muzzle. "Maybe later," she said. "I love watching a pretty girl climax for me."

Silverfox looked at Technofox eyes widening, as though in recognition. Technofox recognized it too, and she turned away, ashamed. Technofox drew the robe tight around herself, and silently, rushed back to her empty bed.

***

"Good girl," he said, stroking her gently as she still shuddered, overwhelmed.

She opened her eyes.

He knelt between her legs. He held his penis in one hand. His eyes were between her legs.

"It must be very hard to be what you were. Always working, never letting your mind wander. It's hard work, to force your mind into a direction so odd and unnatural for you."

Technofox shook and looked away.

"You're my slave. You came for me. And I will take you."

"Please, don't do that," she said. It was something she knew she should say, but apart from its futility, she knew that part of her didn't want to say it.

Without a word, he put the tip between her lips. "No," she said. It was a weak protest. She didn't resist.

He began to apply pressure. He was bigger than any man she had before; there was a little pain, but it added spice to the pleasure. She cried out, she shrieked.

He stopped, and then resumed. He moved slowly into her. He inched it deeper in, and then he'd pause when she screamed, as though he was reluctant to hurt her, and when he realized Technofox's cry was from horror and outrage and not physical pain, he'd be reassured and push it deeper. He wasn't trying to hurt her. He was only using her as a slave was used.

"No, no, no," she whispered, her eyes closed, as though she could just wish him away, wish away the chains and the hard, cruel thing that filled her so deliciously.

He was all the way in now. His hand stroked her face lightly. Affectionately. Kindly. He was raping her and she wanted it to last forever. "You're so tight," he said softly. "So tight and so wet."

His body rested on her, and she squirmed under him, trying to deny what she felt, knowing how hopeless that deception was. He was so much bigger than she was; her face was crushed against his chest, her breasts against his hard muscles. She could feel his ribs against her nipples. She could smell him, overwhelming and male, and it made her feel a little drunk. She knew what was coming, and she dreaded it, and she longed for it.

He began to move inside her, pulling out, and then slowly, relentlessly pushing back into her. She shuddered and went atavistic; barked and yelped as loudly as the muzzle let her. She knew what was coming; he shifted his weight, and he picked up the pace. She fought him as hard as she could, but he effortlessly forced moans of pleasure out of her, coming more quickly as he pumped in and out of her. She tried to twist her sore wrists in their cuffs, anything that would stave it off, but instead the pain seemed to add to the pleasure, heightened it.

She simply couldn't keep up the pretense. She found herself huffing, moaning, in time with his movement, and when he clutched her tight and his seed flowed into her, she let out a guttural, animal cry as she shuddered in her second orgasm.

She struggled against her chains to embrace him.

"That was too fast," she heard him say. "Let's try again."

"No," she said.

But the thought of doing it again thrilled her.

***

Technofox didn't sleep well the rest of the night, and she felt some relief when the clock slipped past 0700, which was a respectable time to wake up.

She heard a soft crackling sound from the kitchen, and slipped in. As she expected, it was Shadowfox. She had been out late the night before, working. Now she smelled strongly of the peppermint soap she liked. It was good for her fur; dark and glossy black, Shadowfox looked like a vulpine love goddess made from the night. There was something unapproachable about her, as though she would be tainted by Technofox's presence.

"Morning, Tech," Shadowfox said. The black furred vixen was dressed in a nightshirt made of red flannel, and she held a pack of bacon in one hand. She snapped a Gerber knife open with her other hand, sliced once, opening the plastic wrapping without touching the bacon. She was good with knives.

Two cast-iron frying pans sat on the stove, gradually heating. The infrared pit sensor at the tip of Technofox's snout showed they were about ready to be used. English muffins were thawing, and butter was out, warming to room temperature from the fridge.

There were two bowls sitting on the counter, one filled with batter, and the other held crumbled matzos.

"Anything happen last night?" Technofox asked.

Shadowfox glanced at her. "Guests," she said, twitching her tail in the direction of the bedrooms. It wasn't an answer; it was a warning that she wasn't comfortable talking about it. Which, of course, meant that she had found a lead on 7.62, or she would simply say "no."

No two mob assassins were identical, but even in that community Seven Sixty-Two was an anomaly. Most hitmen used low-caliber pistols. In many cases, they took a strange pride in using smaller guns: any clod could be dangerous with .45 ACP, the thinking went, but it took a true expert to be one-shot deadly with a .38. Of course, that was by no means an ironclad rule, but for most hitmen the benefits of a smaller weapon trumped the problems of lesser stopping power. Wet work is not combat.

About a year ago, some ICON analyst had picked four unusually well-planned mob killings and suggested that the unusual use of 7.62 mm match grade rifle ammunition implied they were executed by the same triggerman or team. At that point, it was an interesting theory, although a strawman. Later, while Foxforce was in Blue Diamond, it was found that one of these contracts had been given to a freelancer who used the name "7.62."

Noms du guerre weren't unusual in that line of work: generally hitmen chose monikers that were cool and tough, like "Sidewinder." The dangerous ones had the confidence to use something joking or slightly self-deprecating, like "Foxforce Four." Sometimes a hitman would have a favorite weapon or weapon type; Technofox remembered "Big Wheel's" affection for Ruger revolvers. Naming one's self after ammunition, especially a caliber as ubiquitous as 7.62, was unusual -- probably unique. In fact, Technofox couldn't recall anyone using a name like ".45" or "9mm."

A few weeks after Blue Diamond had faded from the news cycle, a member of the Russian Mafia was killed in South Africa with a 7.62 match rifle round fired from a pistol of unknown design. Why would someone bother to use high-quality rifle ammo in a pistol? The most likely explanation was that 7.62 was trying to establish a calling card. That was vaguely troubling; it was worth noting. ICON was not a police agency, and didn't involve itself in mob battles unless there was a good reason. For the moment, 7.62 was filed away as an oddball, or a potential future employee.

7.62 gave them a reason to get involved when he went political, killing Ashok Mehta, the chairman of the National Association for the Advancement of Artificial Persons, using the same pistol he had used in South Africa. That had been a bolt from the blue, with no clear warning: ICON analysts doubted that a contract had been put on Mehta. The implication was that 7.62 had killed Mehta for free.

The corporations and ICON had very few scruples, but they didn't like political murders: instability, contrary to popular opinion, was bad for business. For themselves, personally, the Foxforce Four didn't like the sort of person who would benefit from killing Mehta. They were offered the contract and they took it without wrangling much over the details.

Technofox fretted. Shadowfox had found something out, but she didn't want to talk about it, and that was frustrating.

"This breakfast needs sausage," Shadowfox decided. "Can you get me a pack out of the fridge?"

"Turkey or beef?" Technofox asked, opening the refrigerator.

"Both," Shadowfox said firmly.

"Think I should wake up the others?" Technofox asked.

"If the smell doesn't wake them, the breakfast isn't worthy of being eaten," Shadowfox replied loftily. She took an egg in one hand and cracked it into the bowl of crushed matzos.

"Matzo brie, English muffins, two kinds of sausage, bacon and pancakes," Technofox said. Technofox didn't cook, and she was always slightly amazed that Shadowfox could take groceries and turn them into something better than what you could get in a restaurant.

"Crepes, not pancakes," Shadowfox corrected her. "And I haven't started squeezing the oranges yet."

"Can I help?"

Shadowfox started mixing the eggs in with the matzo, considered the offer and Technofox's proven skills in this area. "You may sit and watch," she decided. "An occasional, tasteful 'ooh' and 'aah' as a tribute to my mastery will be appreciated, but don't feel obligated. I'd rather your exclamations of awe and delight remained spontaneous and unforced." The egg she held didn't quite crack, so she rapped it sharply with the dull part of her knife's blade. It spilled open. "Did Fire and Silver both get lucky?" Shadowfox asked.

"Milton stayed the night with Firefox," Technofox replied. "Silverfox brought someone new, Marq Duquesne. He spells 'Marq' with a 'q', if you can believe it."

Shadowfox rolled her eyes. "College boy?" Shadowfox guessed.

"Naturally. Working towards a Masters in Theater Arts at Emerson College," Technofox replied. "Drives a '42 McClellan, no arrests, waits on tables."

"But he's really an actor," Shadow and Technofox said in unison. Shadowfox reached behind to hook pinkies with Technofox briefly. "No trust fund?" Shadowfox asked.

"The fund matches his salary; his parents want him to work, I guess. And his one man show about Vincent Price made it through two and a half performances before the audience stopped it with threats of violence," Technofox related.

"Two audiences didn't try to kill him? Not bad for an Emerson College student," Shadowfox said, impressed. She looked over at Technofox and delicately cocked an eyebrow. "I'm guessing that you didn't learn that in conversation."

"No," Technofox admitted. "I pulled his biometrics from the door camera and ran a security check. Tracked his car by LoJack to the apartment parking garage."

Shadowfox rubbed her forehead. "Tech," she said severely, "do you really think Silverfox would bring someone she didn't trust home? Don't you respect her judgment and discrimination?"

There was a pause, with Technofox looking at Shadowfox with a frown before the two women hooted with amusement.

"But seriously," Technofox said, dabbing tears of laughter from her eyes, "he doesn't ring any bells."

"If he didn't ring Silverfox's we won't see him again," Shadowfox said, amused. "When are you going to bring someone here?"

"When are you?" Technofox asked.

"I don't take my work home," Shadowfox said blandly. She looked at her friend. "I know you like that guy Ted from the library. Haven't you hooked up with him since ... since?"

"No."

"I'm sorry to hear that. He was good for you, I think," Shadow said.

"And what if he stayed here overnight," Technofox asked, "and I really liked it?"

Shadowfox half shrugged. "Would that really be so bad?"

"We're not whores any more," Technofox said sullenly. "I want to go back to normal."

"I don't know what that means," Shadowfox replied.

"Uhm," Technofox said, and shrugged.

Shadowfox nodded, but didn't push it any further. "You mind starting the orange juice? Just cut them along the equator. Longitudinally sliced oranges are too bitter."

"Equatorially-bisected oranges coming up," Technofox said promptly. She liked complete instructions. "I'll start with twelve. Are you making the coffee?"

"Haven't ground the beans yet," Shadowfox said.

"Grind?" Technofox sniffed. "A true artiste would hand-crush them one at a time using a little golden hammer. Steel leaves residue, and gold is non-reactive."

"Just lazy, I guess." Shadowfox grinned, teeth white in her muzzle. She stopped mixing the matzo brie, ran her hands under running water, and lay the fist strip of bacon in the pan. She lifted a hand, as though moved to ecstasy by a perfect cord.

The hiss and friendly crackle struck Technofox an instant before the fragrance. Immediately, her mouth watered. She closed her eyes, and sniffed. She could never understand why Humans went on about perfume and the smell of flowers when the smell of frying bacon went uncelebrated in song and story.

The bacon was about half cooked when Silverfox came in. She was in a gauzy slip, clothed, but only in the most strict definition of the word. It wasn't clothing so much as an invitation to take it from her.

"Shadowfox breakfast?" the grey fox asked.

"Shadowfox breakfast," Technofox replied with a nod.

"Ooh," Silverfox said. "Aah."

"Thank you," Shadowfox replied seriously.

"Think I have time for one more quickie?" Silverfox asked.

"With both of us?" Technofox asked, pretending to misunderstand.

"Promises, promises..." Silverfox sighed.

Shadowfox considered. "First or second of the morning?"

"First," Silverfox said.

"He's a college student?"

"Yes."

"Plenty of time," Shadowfox nodded.

"Thanks," Silverfox scampered off, tail twitching happily. She passed by Firefox and Milton. Firefox was bright eyed; Milton just barely awake.

Andrew, Technofox corrected herself. She had first heard his real name after they had taken down Blue Diamond.

Andrew Larson was a Boston cop who, as a sideline, did animal photography. He used the name "Milton Jamison," since the Boston Police Department frowned on moonlighting. After a psych discharge from the BPD (Technofox didn't know the details), he went to Blue Diamond on spec to do some glamour photography, hoping that Blue Diamond would bring him on as a freelancer or staff photographer. Pictures of pretty naked chimera sold better than wild lions, and were taken under much more comfortable conditions. While there, he had struck up a friendship with Firefox, and had smuggled them the tools they needed to break out.

Technofox had never found out why he had done that, but she had suspicions. She thought that he was a deep cover agent for ICON, which also had the Foxforce Four on retainer. The Inter-Corporate Operative Network liked working with retired police, and "wildlife photographer" would be an excellent cover for an intelligence agent.

The only bit that surprised Technofox was that he kept spare prescriptions in Firefox's room. Firefox tended to have stormy relationships, with lots of highs and lows until the inevitable breakup; this one was more relaxed, maybe because Andrew's photography work kept him traveling a lot, and the onus of being unavailable or busy wasn't always on Firefox. Maybe it was because Andrew knew what Firefox did for a living, and understood the pressures of that sort of work. For Technofox, it was a little awkward to see him, because she had serviced him at Blue Diamond.

Serviced him. It was something a Blue Diamond girl would think.

So, what did that make him? Co-worker, ex-lover, former john, utter sleazeball? Were the last two redundant? It was probably best to pretend everything that had happened in Blue Diamond was part of an op, and that the only thing that mattered was what happened later. Sort of like Bangkok.

Andrew was dark skinned, middle aged, and graying. He had a placid, unassuming and slightly bemused demeanor; he looked like a former cop who made a little extra as a security guard. There wasn't much about him that would make him stand out in a crowd. Natural History websites were beginning to pick up his photography, and Technofox knew that his pictures of her were no longer in his portfolio.

He did, however, have a few nudes of Firefox in there. The pictures were sensational, and almost did their subject justice.

Silverfox was sensual and open, Shadowfox was graceful and mysterious, Technofox was just Technofox, but Firefox was spectacular. Tall, with long hair and a single braid on the right side of her face, boobs that jutted into the next time zone, she had a build that looked like a fashion model in an alternate universe where clothing was designed by heterosexual men. She had a trashy, lowbrow appeal. Technofox had a nude picture of her in her porn stash.

"Shadow," Firefox said, politely. "Tech."

"We need to talk after breakfast," Shadowfox replied immediately. She straightened just a little when she said that. Technofox picked up the hint; she was talking about business.

"Morning," Andrew said in a sort of general salutation. "Would you rather I stepped out?" he asked Shadowfox politely.

"Thanks, but it'll wait," Shadow replied.

"Aren't those crepes?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"They will be," Shadowfox replied.

"Fire, I left something in your ... dresser drawer. I think you should open it." He smiled at her.

Firefox looked at him, bemused. "Another present, Andrew?"

"Special occasion," he protested. "National Geographic paid for my last trip. Just got back Thursday," he said to fill in Shadow and Technofox.

"Where to, Andrew?" Technofox asked. Firefox never called Andrew by his pen name any more. Lens name?

"Scotland," he replied with a bad fake accent: Scootlund. "They're reintroducing historical fauna under controlled conditions. Lions. It's an experiment, but some of the techniques were--" he cut himself off before going further. Technofox wondered if it was because some of those techniques were used in Blue Diamond.

"You can get him something in Atlanta," Shadowfox dropped casually. "Silverfox, our plane leaves at seventeen fifty. I couldn't get seats for all four of us, so you and Tech will be on the eighteen twenty. American Eagle, remember."

"Eighteen twenty American Eagle to Atlanta," Firefox said with a nod. She accessed her neural implant. "Flight 1130." Grinning in a vulpine way, something between pleasure and bemused annoyance, Firefox thumped Andrew's chest in mock exasperation. "You and your presents."

Technofox blinked. From what Shadowfox had said, something, obviously, had broken last night, and broken in a big way. Multiple flights was a simple precaution. Canid / human chimera were fairly common; two together wouldn't be noticed, but four would turn heads, especially when two of them were Shadow and Fire. They generally paired up this way -- Technofox figured it was to sort of balance the hotness between the two teams.

She accessed her implant chip, and sent a reservation interrogative. Her itinerary downloaded, and with it a standard set of "to-do" items for her trip. She took some sausages from a platter and passed it along. She would have to buy mouthwash, she noted.

"That's right, Shad," Firefox said lightly, sitting and taking two ladles of egg and four strips of bacon. "Tech, do you think you have time to help Andrew with his home network when we take him back?" Firefox looked at her squarely. "It won't take long."

"...Sure," Technofox said, although this additional task fretted her. Well, if they were flying commercial, they wouldn't be bringing any special equipment with them: that would be supplied by ICON on site. "I think I have at least five hours, but breakfast needs to come out of that." She took a muffin, spread it thick with butter, and lay it aside to melt.

"Good," Firefox said, smiling just a little. She turned to go down the corridor to her bedroom, and went past Marq and Silverfox. Silverfox was still in the translucent lingerie. Typically, she hadn't bothered to ask who Firefox's guest was: Silverfox had the attitude that anyone who slept with one of the other three was either a former or future lover of hers. Marq nodded politely, and his eyes lingered on Firefox as she moved down the hall. Technofox didn't think less of him for that -- she did the same. Silverfox tilted her head slightly, perhaps considering extending an invitation to Firefox.

Marq reached for a light switch before he noticed it was already on. "Are these all the lights?" he asked.

"They have really good night vision," Andrew said.

"We do?" Technofox asked, a bit surprised. She hadn't realized they kept the lights too low for human comfort.

"Yes," Andrew said. He pointed to the overheads. "Those are, what, 400 lumen bulbs?"

"Three hundred," Technofox replied.

"Humans would use something closer to fifteen hundred," Andrew explained.

Technofox looked up. "Really? I didn't know that."

"Atlanta's this week?" Silverfox asked. "I thought it was next week." She had probably set up something with Marq, and now was feigning a previous engagement instead of a more important one.

"You're going to Atlanta?" Marq asked Silverfox, obviously disappointed. He took a coffee from Shadowfox with a polite thank-you. He seemed a bit taken aback by the lavish breakfast.

Silverfox shrugged. "Sorry. We travel a lot. We're security consultants." It was their standard almost-lie. She closed her eyes and sniffed deeply, letting a smile float over her face.

Marq blinked. "You mean, like private investigation?" He looked appalled and fascinated at the same time. Technofox had to suppress laughter.

"Nothing that dramatic," Firefox called from down the hall. Marq turned, startled.

Firefox came in, holding an open gift box. "Sorry about that," she said. "If you're going to spend much time with Silverfox it's only fair to warn you that our hearing is very good -- we hold conversations in different rooms all the time. It's a chimera thing."

"Snitch," Silverfox hissed, eyes narrow. She turned brightly to Marq. "We test alarms, run intrusion detection software, things like that," she explained. "You might notice some guns and stuff in the apartment -- we've got carry permits, but none of us have ever actually been shot at."

"In the apartment?" Andrew asked, a little too casually.

Firefox gave Silverfox a sharp glance. "They're locked away, of course," she said, before sitting. Technofox looked at her silently. It was a lie -- Firefox insisted on keeping one or two combat pistols in each room, concealed but easy to get at: Technofox had done the woodwork herself. There was a composite .40 caliber autoloader under the table, centimeters from Firefox's right hand now. Technofox wondered who Firefox was lying to.

"Oh," said Marq, sounding relieved. "Sounds interesting."

More interesting than you will probably ever know, Technofox thought. The odds that one of Silverfox's friends would last long enough to find out what the four really did were pretty low.

"The down side is that we have to travel a lot," Shadowfox said. "What is that?" she asked, pointing to Firefox's package. Firefox grinned and took out a tiny jar of marmalade.

"Assorted preserves," Firefox said. "Jellies, jams, three different honeys alone." Andrew sat down.

"Thanks, sweetie," Shadowfox said, kissing Andrew lightly on his head. He glanced up at her and smiled. Might as well call him Andrew, Technofox thought. Firefox does. "And so well timed, too."

"This is only my fourth Shadowfox Breakfast," Andrew explained to Marq. "Shadowfox, your breakfasts are amazing. I just wish I could reciprocate somehow."

"Keep Fire happy," Shadowfox said.

Marq looked like he wanted to ask something, but didn't dare. Andrew was obviously paired off with Firefox, but Shadow had just kissed him casually, and Silver obviously had no trouble appearing in front of him in clothes that barely obscured her breasts and her genitals. Technofox knew there was one question in his mind: did the foxes share? Had he hit a super-jackpot? It was cruel, but amusing to watch him try to come up with a way to bring it up that wouldn't ruin his chances. She took a sip of coffee, and a bite of egg. She'd be happy with an all-meat breakfast, but she felt obliged to sample everything available.

"Atlanta," Marq said. "Isn't Travis Walton addressing a rally there, or something?"

The foxes didn't respond; Andrew glanced over at Firefox, obviously worried. Firefox hesitated, just slightly, and looked down at her bacon.

"The Libertarian Party Conference, yes," Shadowfox said slowly.

"I saw his talk last week on Chimera dot net," Marq said. "It was pretty interesting, I thought."

"He gives a good speech, yes," Firefox said quietly, pushing her egg about.

"Did you ever see him?" Marq asked.

"A few times," Firefox replied, casually, sounding more normal. She lifted a forkful of egg, and put it back down.

Technofox was silent, because she didn't trust herself to speak. Marq couldn't be blamed for his faux pas. And he had no way of knowing it was one.

Travis Walton was one of the better known human activists for chimera rights -- a genetic engineer fighting for the decent treatment of his own creations. He was on the short list to become chairman of the NAAAP.

There was nothing in Firefox's voice that said, yes, Travis Walton was a client in Blue Diamond and he raped me there more than once. How, exactly, Walton reconciled that with his stand on chimera rights was a complete mystery to Technofox. She sat, her insides in a knot. She knew what Walton had done to Firefox, and it made her so angry she couldn't speak. Meanwhile, Firefox sat and talked, not revealing anything. Technofox was amazed at Firefox's self control. Technofox had had her own regulars as well -- she couldn't imagine hearing them praised without screaming.

And considering what Walton had done to them, the violation he had done to them before their conception... Technofox thought she hated him more than she hated her own regulars.

"I don't think we've been introduced," Andrew said politely. "My name's Andrew Larson, I'm a photographer."

"He's also Milton Jamison," Firefox interjected. "He's been in _National Geographic, Smithsonian_, and _Animal World._"

"Wow!" Marq exclaimed, shaking his hand. "Congratulations. Sorry, I haven't seen your work. What sort of pictures do you take?"

At least it got him off the subject of Travis Walton.

"Wildlife, mostly," Andrew said. "Also zoo animals. I've started doing some portraits -- I took the author's picture for a novel, _The American Civil War_."

"The what?" Marq asked, blinking.

"It's alternate history fiction," Technofox explained. "You've heard of the Lincoln Act?"

"Sure," Marq said. "Made it illegal for slaves to operate powered machinery. In 1870 or something. That's why slavery pretty much -- almost -- died out back in the 1920s. Until chimera technology made it viable again."

"Right," Technofox said. She picked up the narrative because she had actually read the novel. "Anyway, in this book, Lincoln became President in the 1860s and a war broke out between the states. Kind of far-fetched, but the writer really sold it well, I think. You almost believe it could happen."

"I'll have to read it some time. Is your portfolio on the net, Andrew?" Marq asked.

Andrew glanced at Firefox and hesitated. "Well, I --"

"Tech just installed this the other day," Firefox said. "It's the coolest thing in the world." She moved a plate of matzo brie out of the center of the table. "Technofox," Firefox said portentously, "Activate ... the Fox-Com."

With that, Firefox reached under the table with her foot and carefully pushed upwards. The thing Firefox had just named the Fox-Com was a lot less impressive than it sounded. Technofox had simply taken two flatscreens, attached them back to back, and hooked them up to a thin client in their apartment network so the four of them had a computer for reference during conferences. Lifted by Firefox's foot, it moved up smoothly, as though Technofox had attached a motor. The screens locked into place and came on, displaying that terrible wallpaper with the bushy tail and cheesy "FF4" logo that Silver and Technofox had whipped up when they were both a bit tipsy and thought they were being quite artistic. Shadow insisted they keep it, as a reminder against strong drink.

"As an art student," Shadowfox said without laughing, "What's your opinion of our wallpaper, Marq?"

"It's an interesting design," he said carefully.

"It's hideous," Shadowfox promptly corrected him, "but you're sweet for denying it."

"Let me drive," Technofox said, firing up her neural interface. She navigated to Andrew's web page and brought up his portfolio.

"What would you like to see first?" Firefox asked innocently, as the menu came up: OVERVIEW, WILDLIFE, ANIMAL PARKS, PORTRAITS, GLAMOUR [Contains Nudity].

Technofox could practically see Marq's eyes lock on to the fifth option.

"Overview," he said firmly.

"Thank you," Andrew said under his breath. Selecting that option opened up a gallery of eighteen shots; a stark landscape of brown rock and stone, a tiger in a zoo licking her newborn cub, a wolf looking at the camera with half closed eyes, and others. There were three of chimera; a massive Doberman type wearing a police uniform, sitting at a desk with his feet up, apparently dozing; an exhausted tiger woman leaning against a Super Hummer and smiling lovingly -- and somehow disturbingly -- at the camera; and Firefox reclining on a bed, a quizzical smile on her face, as though wondering why Andrew was messing with a camera instead of with her.

"The police officer is a guy I teamed up with a lot when I was a cop. The felid chimera is -- was my wife. She died four months ago," Andrew said steadily.

"I'm sorry," Marq said. Technofox looked at Andrew. Four months was since Blue Diamond -- and after he had started seeing Firefox. Even if they had an open relationship, it seemed odd that Firefox hadn't introduced his wife to the others. And Firefox was not the sort to be The Other Woman, at least not knowingly. And she must have known, because she wasn't driving Andrew's head into the wall after that revelation. So, what was it? A breakup, a temporary separation, death after a long illness?

Technofox looked back at the picture. She had never liked it. There was something about the tiger that the fox found unsettling; but of course she couldn't bring that up. It was probably just a bad picture that Andrew included in his best work because of happy memories.

"So am I," Shadowfox said quietly, perhaps thinking the same thing, perhaps wondering why this had been the first she had heard of it.

"Thank you," Andrew said. "Firefox, you probably recognize."

"Yes," Marq said.

"We met when I was doing some modeling work," Firefox said casually. Technofox looked at her. That modeling work had been at Blue Diamond. "Tech, you mind bringing that page up?"

"Before Marq pops?" Silverfox asked.

"Uhm --" Marq started to say.

"Hush you," Silverfox said, laying a finger across his lips. "I like it when you pop," she said inconsistently. She leaned over to him, licked his face lightly.

Technofox sighed and brought up the page. There were nine pictures of six different women; three humans, and Silverfox, Shadowfox and Firefox. She didn't much care for the humans -- they were posed and posing, and the pictures looked like anything you'd see in a magazine advertising something to men. They were professional models, and they looked like professional models. They didn't have personality. Andrew could photograph something that was there; he had no talent for eliciting something that wasn't. It made him a good nature photographer, but perhaps he was too honest a cameraman for porn. Well, strictly speaking, that wasn't true. Technofox liked the pictures he had taken of her. He had made her look desirable.

The one of Shadowfox showed her nude in the dark, barely lit, from behind; highlights reflecting off her edges, as though she was half-spirit, half-flesh. It said something real about her. Silverfox's picture always made Technofox smile in response; she was kneeling on a chair, pushing panties down off her butt. There was a bit of a glitch in the picture: the panties didn't accommodate a tail, making it obvious it was posed, but the dark grey and lace looked good on Silverfox. Silverfox had a slight smirk on her face, as though amused.

The two of Firefox were sultry, exciting. They had power, ferocity, passion. One in particular had captured Technofox's imagination; Firefox lying on her back, nude, looking at the camera with the tip of her tongue barely protruding from her mouth. She had a look of intense desire; Technofox liked Fire's expression because she could pretend it was for her. The strength and passion were, Technofox knew, real.

No pictures of Technofox were in his portfolio. She didn't know how she felt about that. He had taken pictures of her at Blue Diamond, as a cover for their escape. She didn't think he used any of the Blue Diamond pictures in his portfolio --

Now she noticed that he had no pictures of his wife in the Glamour folder either. Or maybe he had started taking pictures of women too late? It seemed strange -- she'd expect a photographer to start with the women closest to him. Maybe those pictures were too personal? Maybe they were too experimental?

There was a moment of silence; broken when Shadowfox put the coffee down on the table. She peered over.

"It's sort of uncomfortable, I think," she said. "I've always thought it must be hard to talk about pictures like this to the model. The photograph is about passion, but you don't want to sound like you think with your little head. Worse, you came here with another woman, and you don't want to sound like you're bored with her."

"Go ahead," Silverfox said, poking Marq with her elbow. "Tell them they're hot."

"I like these a lot," Marq said.

Silverfox's hackles rose. "You pig," she spat. "I'm going back to women."

"I suppose I should have seen that coming," Marq sighed. Technofox couldn't help smiling. He caught on fast.

Andrew started laughing. "It's very cruel of you to do that to him in the morning," he said.

"Yes. What's your point?" Silverfox asked.

"How did you light these?" Marq asked, spearing a sausage with his fork and lifting it. Silverfox leaned over and nibbled at it in the most suggestive manner imaginable.

The rest of breakfast passed inconsequentially, and soon Technofox was wishing she hadn't taken a second crepe with grape jelly.

"Tech," Firefox said, "We need to get going. Andrew, I'll drive you back home. Sorry, guys," Firefox said, waving a hand apologetically at the table.

"Right," Silverfox said. "Marq, I have to make up for tomorrow."

"After you start the dishes," Shadow said quietly.

One of the unwritten rules was that Shadowfox didn't clean up after Shadowfox Breakfasts. Silverfox nodded, and Technofox got her coat and her tool set for networks. She doubted Andrew's problem was hardware, but she didn't want to come back for anything.

Andrew and Technofox followed Firefox into the garage. Technofox slid into the back seat; Andrew took shotgun. Firefox sat in the driver's seat. "Can we stop off at a drug store?" Technofox asked. "I need mouthwash."

"Sure, on the way back okay?" Fire asked absently. The electric whined softly, and she backed out of the space, and started for the exit. Technofox acquiesced, wondering if Fire had heard her.

"Given that I usually just take the T, and that I'm not having any problems with my home network," Andrew said, "what do you have to share with us, Firefox?"

Technofox blinked, and looked at Firefox's reflection in the driver's mirror. Firefox fiddled with her sunglasses, and headed south on Charles Street.

"Something you can't share with the others?" Technofox asked, bewildered. Was that possible? Firefox pressed her lips together, but didn't speak right away.

"Either it's something that they wouldn't want to hear," Andrew said, "or she's protecting them. In which case, she won't tell me either. Is that about right, Fire?"

"Wait till we're on Storrow," Firefox said, in clipped tones. She turned towards the Charles River, and then took Storrow, parallel to it. It was a longer stretch of road and would let her focus less on driving.

It was a cold day, and the inside of the car was starting to chill. Technofox found herself thinking that Atlanta in February was beginning to sound like a good deal.

"You're right, Andrew," Firefox said sadly. "Forgive me. I'd trust you with this, in a heartbeat, but ..." she trailed off.

"But you don't need to," Andrew said coldly.

"I'm sorry," Firefox repeated. "Forgive me."

"It's something illegal, isn't it?" Andrew asked. "Something I'd get in trouble for hearing about."

"You know," Firefox said, "I could say we were arranging a surprise for Shadow and Silver or something. But I won't, because I don't want to lie to you."

"I know," he agreed, gently. "And I appreciate that." Technofox sat in the back, silent, appalled. He looked out over the river. "Who are you going to kill?" he asked.

Firefox took a long, deep breath. "Can we talk about this in your apartment?" she asked, finally. "I'm driving."

"Okay, sweetie," Andrew said. "I'll make the coffee."

Technofox brought her tools with her, and she didn't know why. Maybe to keep up the pretense of being there to fix his network, pointless though that was.

Firefox sat and stared out a window, a mug of coffee in her hand. Andrew's apartment wasn't as nice as theirs; Technofox didn't blame him for spending more time in theirs than otherwise. Technically, their apartment was owned by ICON and sublet to them as part of their retainer, under the condition that two of the four bedrooms be available for housing other ICON agents moving through. Since Technofox operated a server room in hers, they would usually move one of the other three. Sometimes, Shadowfox gave them a chance to share her room. Which, now that she thought of it, was a little odd -- Shadow didn't date often, and it always struck Technofox as strange that she routinely hooked up with agents passing through.

"I'm so ashamed of myself," Firefox said finally. "It's selfish of me to ask for your help in this." She looked at Technofox, her eyes uncertain, pleading for reassurance.

"Why?" Technofox asked.

"Because you went through worse than I did," Firefox explained.

Technofox silently looked out the window.

"Andrew," Firefox said, finally, "Do you know what we're talking about?"

"Blue Diamond?" he asked.

"Yes," Firefox said. "I want to kill Travis Walton."

"Good," Andrew said with a nod. "If I can help, let me know. And thank you."

"I'm in," Technofox agreed.

"I think I owe you an explanation," Firefox said. She looked at her coffee.

"I was raped there," Firefox said finally. "The funny thing is that some of them ... I don't think they knew it was rape. I was tied and gagged for them, and I honestly don't think they knew."

"And they couldn't guess?" Andrew asked, a bit harshly.

Firefox looked back at him. "Maybe. Maybe it was self-deception. Maybe they didn't know. I'm saying I'm giving them the benefit of a doubt. Walton delighted in it. He knew, and it thrilled him. I can't share the world with him. I'm a hypocrite, and I'm sorry."

"What makes you a hypocrite?" Technofox asked.

"Because we can't kill everyone who deserves it," Firefox explained. "They say there aren't any records of who did what to whom in Blue Diamond. I don't believe it -- we know Blue is still running, and it would keep customer profiles. It's suspicious enough if a client who raped me dies. If any others..." she shook her head. "ICON might connect the dots. This is selfish of me. It's for me, not for us, but I --" her voice cracked. "Him being alive and getting applause from people like Marq -- it's just obscene."

"It's for me too," Technofox contradicted her.

Firefox looked at her. "Even if it means we can't kill someone who ... you want to kill? By rights, you should have first pick."

"I'd pick Travis Walton," Technofox said firmly, looking at her steadily.

Firefox's expression shifted. "Did he...?" Firefox asked, softly.

"Worse," Technofox said. Firefox tilted her head.

"What did he do?" Andrew asked.

Technofox looked out the window. She couldn't bear their eyes on her when she spoke; she needed to pretend she was alone, speaking her thoughts to the landscape.

"He never met me," she said. "I never saw him. He never touched me. He doesn't know I exist.

"They didn't call it rape in Blue Diamond," she said. "They said there was no rape there, that a Blue Diamond girl was a slave who could chose between obedience and disobedience. And they said that, and they believed that. There were chains, and there were whips, and there was Tigre, and there were bars on the windows, and they could say it wasn't rape. And they said it was because ... because I liked it."

They were very quiet. Technofox appreciated that.

"I was designed for that treatment. And they're right about that. Because Travis Walton designed the way our brains worked. And he designed me so three men could hold me down, rip my clothes off, ball me without foreplay, and I'd come for them. They raped me, and because of what Travis Walton did to me I was so turned on by it that I get ... I get excited thinking about it. Even now." She swallowed. "And now, every moment of joy, every second of pleasure I feel, I wonder if some pervert made my brain work that way, if there's anything good I can feel that's for me, and not for the people who designed me."

Technofox sipped her coffee.

"And there is something I can do that will feel good, and I know it's for me," she said softly. "I can help kill Travis Walton."