Technofox

Chapter Three

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.

Technofox was sitting on a bed. No, it wasn't a bed. Precision was important. It was more like a padded table, with a slope up on one end, like a widened beach chair. It was probably adjustable. It was accessorized with chrome rings at each corner, with rails along each long side so an anchor point could be moved to a convenient position. Blue Diamond had a wide variety of specialized furniture, all designed to hold women still while providing access. Even the girls who didn't fight would be tied down sometimes. It was a reminder.

Technofox wondered if there was a special name for this piece of furniture — there had to be. Somewhere, someone had to pick things like this out of a catalog, someone had to make maintenance calls.

"Joe? The left wrist ring on the rape rack in #1029 is a little loose. Send someone with a 10mm crescent wrench."

When a woman being raped struggled so hard she stripped a bolt, someone would come and fix it. Did they think of the crime they were helping along? Did they pretend, somehow, that it didn't really matter?

The padding was covered with some synthetic fabric, something that felt like cloth but repelled fluids. It would be easy to clean. Don't think about that.

She was chained by her wrists to a cable that went into the ceiling. A slim chain, chrome, a pretty thing that caught the light and shone. A chain, not a cable; even though a cable would probably be easier to work with. Chains were more aesthetic; and they carried with them a long heritage of humiliation and restraint. "Women in chains" carried an image different from "women in cables." Blue Diamond respected tradition.

Sitting, her hands came to her muzzle. She didn't fight the chain. There was no point. Even if she somehow broke a link, there were more chains. There were always more chains. All she'd accomplish was earning herself another beating, over and above the ten lashes they gave her every day to remind her that they could.

She wasn't afraid; she knew something was coming, something bad, but she didn't think much anymore in terms of things that were coming. What was the point of apprehension? What happened, happened. Her legs were crossed. She wondered when they would be forced open. It wouldn't be long, she thought.

She wore a pleated skirt, a white blouse, red leather cuffs on her wrists, collar and a short leash dangling between her breasts. The leash had a leather loop for a handle, supple from long use. She thought she recognized the oddly shaped stain on the handle.

She wore schoolgirl clothes. It was a pretty common look among models, prostitutes, pleasure slaves. She wondered, briefly, if she had seen more adult women in schoolgirl uniforms than she had seen schoolgirls in schoolgirl uniforms.

She had been torn out of this same outfit before, one day three times, while a tiger sat and watched. She had lost count of the men who had taken her. She wondered if she had ever serviced the same client twice. She could recognize a leash, but she was uncertain about the men.

Serviced. That was a Blue Diamond verb, used by Blue Diamond girls. And she wasn't a Blue Diamond girl. Words were important. She shouldn't use Blue Diamond words. Not even in her mind.

As long as she held to that, she won.

The door opened. Technofox had to fight to keep from turning around. She was fearful. She didn't want to look fearful. Despite not looking, her other senses kicked in. No footstep. Was it Shadowfox? No. The scent was wrong. Then came a soft tap. A cane, rubber tip, on the tile floor. Tile floor. It would be easy to clean. Don't think about that.

From sound, from absence of sound, from scent, from the way the interloper moved, Technofox began to assemble a mental image. A chimera, a woman, a felid, who moved so softly that even with a bad leg, her cane was louder than her footfall. She was alone. She walked with authority. She had to be a tamer. Technofox turned to look, mostly to see if she had guessed right.

She wasn't much bigger than Technofox. She had the open spots of a leopard, an orange coat, white on throat and belly. Her hair was a golden caramel, braided into tight cornrows. She wore black. Her left leg troubled her; the cane was not for show. And she wore a collar, black with chrome studs. Tamer. A slave with a whip. There were three at Blue Diamond. It sounded absurd, but after a few weeks as a Blue Diamond girl, you could tell someone carried a whip just by the way their feet touched the ground, by the way others in the room stirred, by the way they smelled. This leopard could use the cane on Technofox for as long as she liked. Being in a room with someone with that power was terrifying.

Technofox slid off the table. She could just about kneel on the floor, with her hands above her head. She had a perverse satisfaction in the fact that the cable kept her from touching her breasts and tongue to the floor, in the respectful posture a Blue Diamond girl greeted a Tamer. Tamers weren't just guards or guests; they were the whips of Master, and Technofox understood whips very well by now. She lowered her eyes, kept them on the leopard's feet. Wordlessly, the leopard stood over her, and gave Technofox her hand to lick. The tongue of a Blue Diamond girl showed respect, by speech, and by what it touched. The tamer's hand tasted of leather, and a man's skin. She had touched a human male recently, but she didn't smell of spunk. That was surprising.

The leopard touched Technofox's ear, which acknowledged her abasement and released her from it. Technofox came to her feet. Although she was clothed, she crossed her legs and covered her breasts with her arms as best she could. She didn't say anything; she didn't know this woman.

"Kneel on the table," the leopard ordered, her voice light and casual.

Frightened, Technofox looked away.

The tamer sighed. She lifted her cane and tapped it on the ground. "This is where I repeat the order," she said. "And you refuse. Then I start hitting you. You put up with it as long as you can, and then you break, and start screaming that you'll do anything I say. Then I give you another ten for good measure. And with every one, you'll wonder why you put up a fight. Then every time your client touches you, he'll squeeze a bruise, you'll yelp and twitch, and he'll think you're turned on. You know it's true. You've been there dozens of times before. So what I'm suggesting is that we skip the thrashing and go straight to the part where you do everything I tell you. My cane gets a rest, and so does your ribcage. M'kay?" She smiled brightly, teeth small and sharp, and weirdly enough, Technofox returned the smile.

"Okay," Technofox replied, hesitantly.

"Kneel on the table," the tamer repeated. There was a slight accent. Southern California? They were in or near San Diego, Technofox knew. "Face the head." Technofox obeyed immediately. The leopard took Technofox's right foot, and attached a chain to it. The posture Technofox was bound in would be her first hint. The tamer then slid an eye on a rail close to Technofox's foot, and attached the other end of the chain, repeating it on her other leg.

Technofox started shaking. She always shook when they bound her, because she knew she would be fighting those bonds soon, no matter how hard she tried to be calm.

The tamer rested a hand on Technofox's shoulder. "Hey, easy there," she said. Not impatiently. Not an order. Not the mocking sympathy Tigre used so often, feigning concern while savoring her shame. Technofox looked up at her, stunned. "What's your name?" the tamer asked.

"Technofox," she replied, automatically. Wrong answer. Her ears flattened, and she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. "No, Candi. My name is Candi. I meant to say Candi, ma'am." Tigre would give her five for that.

"It's okay Candi, there's no audience. My name's Cheshire. It always has been Cheshire. I think it's an amazing coincidence."

Technofox was taken so off guard by that she laughed, and Cheshire laughed with her. It lasted one moment.

The leopard took her hand away, and turned smartly. "I'm going to adjust the chain," she said. "To take up a bit of the slack." She touched a switch in the wall and a motor whined. Slowly, Technofox's hands were pulled up until they were almost at full extension. Her ankles were shacked down, her hands over her head, and she knew her clothes would rip easily — she couldn't even try to defend herself. She could squat, but she didn't have quite enough free cable to sit.

"A client asked for you," Cheshire said. "Asked for you specifically."

"What does he want?" Technofox asked. It was an absurd question, but a natural one.

"One warning. Try again." Her voice was just slightly cold.

"What does he want, ma'am?"

"I don't have a script, but we can guess from what you're wearing and how you're restrained. The setup is reluctant schoolgirl, forced into co-operating. He probably wants you to resist, and then get enthusiastic. He'll strip you, but you'll be doing most of the work." Cheshire shrugged. "Beyond that, he wants what every client wants. He has a woman in mind, and he wants you to be that woman for him. You're in show business. You can get away with anything but boring your audience. If you bore him, he'll ring a buzzer for me, and he'll expect me to stir you up a bit."

The cane whipped up, moving so fast it roared. Cheshire stopped the swing abruptly. It lay across Technofox's shoulders, barely touching her fur. Technofox's entire body flinched away from it.

"Like that," Cheshire said, unnecessarily. "Unfortunately, we can't Foley in the sound of the blow, so if he's here, it's real. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Technofox replied.

"Good. You can get through this without a beating if you're smart. Are you smart?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Cheshire looked at her for a moment, eyes cool and unsympathetic. Something flickered in them. She turned away.

"Thank you, ma'am," Technofox said. It was strange, but she felt moved to say it, as though Cheshire had done her a favor.

"Any time," Cheshire muttered. Technofox heard a door open. Before she could react, she was reeling from a blow from the cane. It hit her on the side, under the rib, an impact that was as surprising as it was painful. The cane had considerable spring in it, and the blow burned more like a whip than a club. She was familiar with both. She cried out.

"Fifteen," Cheshire said, her eyes suddenly dark and narrow, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"That's enough," said the man in the door.

He was wet with chlorinated water, wearing a towel and drying himself with another. It was Todd's friend.

"Yes sir," Cheshire said politely. Then, to Technofox, "We'll finish later. Sir, she is barely tamed, so I suggest you stay away from her mouth, or let me muzzle her."

"Thank you," he replied. "I've had her before, with Tigre's help. I know she's sneaky."

"Very good, sir. You can page me." Cheshire bowed respectfully to Todd's friend, and using the cane, left the room.

"She has it in for you, doesn't she?" he said, looking at Technofox.

His words sounded sympathetic, but there was nothing sympathetic in the way he looked at her, how his eyes lingered at her breasts, and at the buttons that held her shirt closed. She wished she could cover herself. "Do you like it that way?" he asked, conversationally. "Are you one of those girls who gets turned on by a good, solid beating?"

"I'm a woman who doesn't want you," Technofox said.

She looked away from him. She didn't like to look at him looking at her. His eyes made her feel like meat.

"You know," he said conversationally, "I was skeptical when Todd told me about this place. I never much cared for chimera. Never saw the point, really." His hand was on her head, stroking the fur, like she was a pet. She jerked her head away. "I guess furs are an acquired taste. That rape game was fun. You squeezed my dick so tight I thought you'd crush it."

She flinched away from him.

"Don't be such a stranger," he said, dropping his towel. His cock was hard, so erect it was jutting out and up. "You be nice, and I'll be nice."

He climbed up on the table behind her, embraced her from behind. She struggled, and the chain made a soft whispering sound as his hands found her breasts. He nuzzled her neck as she struggled. His fingers opened her top, and he played with her breasts, holding one in each hand, squeezing them, feeling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. She could feel them stiffen, as pleasure rushed through her body. She tried to twist away, but he held her tight. He lifted her skirt from behind, touched his penis against her butt, felt her panties. He muttered a curse and took his hands off her breasts, grabbed her underwear, and pulled. They shredded, and soon his fingers were digging at her pubes. Technofox inhaled in a long hiss.

He laughed. She knew he noticed.

"Wet already?" He asked, teasing her. He kissed her shoulder, and to her relief let her go. Her respite was short-lived. He got off the table, walked around, and smiled at her. She looked away. He grabbed her snout, used it as a lever to turn her face back to him.

"You remind me of my favorite girlfriend," he said. "I was working in Dayton. She was in school — I forget what grade, eleventh I think. Or tenth." He let go of her jaw.

"You and your buddy raped her, too?" Technofox asked.

He chuckled, as though that were an amusing joke about how the two of them had met. "No, it's more your general build. The way it feels inside you. How your tits just barely overflow my hands." He shook his head, and Technofox was appalled to see him look nostalgic. "The stuff she'd do for me, all for some attention and support from an older man, and for crap like cameras and music video players. Cheap, compared to what a professional would charge. I guess that taking presents instead of cash made her think she wasn't a whore. One big difference," he touched Technofox's forehead. "Lots of people here probably think you artificials are just smart animals. That's bullshit. You've burned out more brain cells with one shot of rum than she had above her neck. You wouldn't believe the stupid shit she'd prattle on about."

"Congratulations. You're smart enough to find fifteen year old girls boring."

He snorted. "Dumb cunt thought I'd marry her if she got pregnant. Now I can't go back to Ohio."

"Heartwarming. I'm sure you're the father everyone dreams of," Technofox replied, disgusted. "You supporting a boy or girl?"

"Who cares?" he said impatiently. "I'm not talking about her, it's about what she meant to me."

He sat on the table, brought his legs up, and turned to face her. Without a word, he pushed his feet between her knees and lay down on the table, moving down until their genitals touched. He put a hand on his penis to move it in. Appalled, Technofox moved her hips up, so she was positioned too high for him to insert. He sighed, exasperated. "C'mon, what's the big deal? I've fucked you before."

She looked away.

"You hate me, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, surprised into being honest.

He took the leash, and pulled down. She had no leverage, and was too startled to move her hips out of the way. He forced about half his length into her. She gasped, thrilled to the core, and then swung her hips back, forcing him out of her. She glared down at him, shaking with anger and appalled at how she wanted to mount him again.

He lay back, arms behind his head, and smiled at her.

"That's okay," he said. "You can hate me. I'm not looking for a girlfriend. I want a piece of ass that works hard for me."

"So keep looking."

"Are you trying to piss me off? Do you like it rough?" He chuckled and pinched a nipple, twisting it. She yelped.

"No," she said, looking at him.

"That's surprising," he said, letting her breast go. "That's a chimera thing, isn't it? You're designed to like it?"

She didn't reply.

"You see, here's what I think. My girlfriend? I was the best thing in her life. She really thought that."

"As you said. Fifteen year old girls aren't smart."

"And maybe I was," he said, ignoring her. "She's probably living in a trailer park now."

"Is this where you offer to buy me portable video?" she asked.

He snorted. "Talk to your owner. I'm already paying for you."

"And I don't get any of it," she said, looking at him.

He looked at her, thoughtfully. "You're too smart to lie to."

"Damn straight," Technofox said, pride coming back to her.

"I saw your pictorial, the one with Miss Tits. You lovers for real?"

"None of your business," she said forcing her voice to stay steady.

"That's a yes. Fine, none of my business. So I can't be the best thing in your life. I can be your best client."

Her eyes narrowed, intrigued despite herself. "How?"

He shrugged. "I can only tip you five bucks if I hire you for a night. But I can send you presents through the website — candy, flowers, shit like that."

"I'm not into flowers."

"So what do you want?"

"I want to be left alone," Technofox said immediately.

"Fine. I'm low maintenance. You can also probably guess that I'm not really into cuddling and conversation."

This was actually starting to sound interesting. "So?"

"So if I hire you for the night and my cock's not inside you, I'll pretty much leave you alone. No telling me how I make the earth move and how I'm the best — I think we know each other too well already for that romantic shit. You can bring a book, watch TV, listen to music, and pick your dinner and breakfast off of the room service menu."

She looked at him. "Surf the net?"

He shrugged. "Fine with me. If you work hard enough." He grinned. "You know, this may just be the first honest relationship I've had with a woman."

Net use was almost certainly monitored, she thought, but she knew she could get a message out, at least. That was how she justified herself. The truth was that she had hit the mental and emotional point where his offer was appealing for its own sake — she could get him off quickly, and be left alone.

It was surrender.

No, it was self defense.

Almost without thinking, she nodded her head.

"That's a good girl," he said. He reached down and held his penis up, holding it steady. She shifted her hips back, maneuvered his tip against her, and shivered as she slid down his shaft. She moved up slightly, knowing that would be more comfortable for him.

When he was entirely inside her, she looked down at him. He rested a hand on the side of her face. "God, you feel good," he said, his tone subtly different. There was no sarcasm in it, no mockery. And she was grateful for the honesty, so she returned it.

"You do too," she heard herself say. She kissed his hand before she closed her eyes and started to move her hips, pretending that what she was feeling was for … someone else, somewhere else. Her arms were tied as his hands caressed her lithe body, and his fingers teased her nipples, and she gasped, and she was glad she was bound and helpless, that she had the excuse, and she tried to pretend it wasn't delicious.

***

"I'm sorry for waking you up," Technofox said, nestling against Firefox.

"Woken up by a beautiful girl who just has to screw you right away?" Firefox laughed and kissed the top of Technofox's head. "Tell me a better way to wake up. If I'm not in the mood, I'll tell you. I promise."

"It's just — I had a dream, and —" She cut herself off. That was a mistake, a big one.

"What was it about?" Firefox asked drowsily, the question Technofox was dreading. "I'm hoping to hear one weirder than mine."

That might be a good opportunity to deflect. "You haven't heard one weirder than yours?" Technofox asked.

"Well," Firefox said, considering, "Silver's dream about the submarine came close."

"Is that the one where she came when the conning tower bumped her —"

"That's the one," Firefox affirmed. She looked troubled, as though she was trying to remember. "I was with … two people, a man and a woman. They were lovers, and … I don't know, they made love to one another through me. Physically impossible, and pretty intense."

"I don't remember my dreams," Technofox lied. "I just remember it was ... it was very erotic. And it woke me up, and you were here."

"Okay," Firefox said.

"I'm sorry. It sounds like I just — that it was just because you were here, and I don't think of you that way."

"I appreciate that," Fire said softly.

"You're so beautiful," Technofox said. She stroked Firefox's breast softly. When Firefox sighed, Technofox lowered her mouth to her nipple and suckled for a moment. "You're so beautiful, and you let me touch you. I can't believe it. And that was such a stupid thing to say."

Firefox stroked her gently. "You make me feel like a goddess."

"You deserve to," Technofox said. She kissed her. "You deserve everything good."

"Love you," Firefox said softly.

Technofox smiled. She gasped when Firefox moved her hand between her legs.

"Keep your eyes on mine," Firefox said. "I want to see your face when you come for me."

Technofox woke up. Her implant chip said it was 0603. The sun was coming in through gaps in the vertical blinds, casting bars of light across the bed. She didn't like the image, and she shuddered slightly. She disentangled herself from Firefox, got up, and closed them. Closed, they looked less like a cage.

Firefox's arms enfolded her. Technofox flowed into her embrace, and they stood, kissing one another for a time.

"I wish this was a vacation," Firefox said.

"Mmm," Technofox agreed. She tilted her head up, licked Firefox's muzzle.

Firefox returned the touch, and stepped back. "I want a status on Shadow and Silver," she said, apologetically.

"Right," Technofox nodded. She looked around for her laptop, and blinked.

"My laptop is still packed," she said, poleaxed. "My computer needs to boot up. I slept without an active computer. That's never happened to me before."

"Flatterer," Firefox replied. Then, more seriously, "Does that mean we don't have comms?"

"No," Technofox hastened to assure her. "My cell hits the same mailbox. It's just that…" She looked around for her clothes, and found her cell phone. She was relieved to see it was active. The phone would sound an audible alert on receiving a high priority message from Silverfox or Shadowfox; they could also send a coded message which would put the put them into "heartbeat mode" — the phone would go off if one hour passed without a message from them.

"Silver went to sleep last night at about ten," Technofox said. "She's not up yet. Shadowfox — " her ears flattened.

Fire waited a heartbeat. "Shadowfox what?" she snapped.

Technofox read the messages again:

2307     Can't sleep. Working late tomorrow anyway. Going to see if Odenberg is in his apartment.
2347     At objective.
2356     Blue '51 Mitsubishi J-Go OR GHT-1319 VIN HAKWH-716KS-LA09J7 in space 47.
0010     Apartment 726 is drawing power. Climate control?
0050     Inside building. Tapping datafeed to 726 Link Here.
0146     Room occupied? Watching.
0241     AOK
0306     Spotted by janitor. Told him I was a guest, just leaving.
0350     Return to hotel. Standing down.

"Shadow went to Odenberg's apartment," Technofox said. "She found a car in his parking space, tapped his cable, was spotted, and went back to the hotel. I'll run a check on the license and Vehicle Identification Number."

"So he's in Atlanta." Firefox walked around behind her, peered at the tiny screen. Technofox gritted her teeth. It was cosmically unfair that Firefox's breasts were touching Technofox's back while Technofox was trying to concentrate on something that was not tits.

"Maybe. She didn't mention seeing him. The climate control is running though, so there's probably someone there." She looked at a weather report. "It was a bit cold last night, but not so cold it would damage the apartment."

"Someone's there, or someone want to make it look like someone's there. Why did Shadow poke around?" Firefox asked, irritated. "I didn't want her out last night."

"Playing a hunch, I guess," Technofox said, and couldn't resist adding, "Not all hunches play out."

Firefox smiled briefly. "Fair enough. Just as well. We were going to send her to scope the place anyway… did you check the car yet?" she asked.

"One second," Technofox double checked the numbers, wishing she had her laptop running. "The license plate and VIN don't match. The car's registered to Michael P. Darlingane of Atlanta; the license plate's from a car owned by Catherine Robinson of Portland."

"So he stole a set of license plates and put them on a car he stole locally?" Firefox asked. "Why?"

Technofox considered. "You can't read a VIN unless you crawl under a car with a flashlight. So, if a car's reported stolen, the police will look for a license number. Robinson hasn't reported that her plates were stolen — so maybe she hasn't even noticed yet."

"Yeah, I knew that. I was just wondering why he'd risk stealing a car when he could use public transport."

"Cameras on busses?" Technofox suggested. "Or he's going somewhere public transport doesn't, or the busses don't run at the right time. Or maybe he intends to leave his car near the hit, so he can use it to get away." There was a laptop desk with a monitor and input devices. She started to set up her laptop. There was a wireless hub almost across the room, and she wrinkled her snout. Wireless connections were even less secure than landlines, and landlines were none too secure — Shadowfox had already put a tap on Odenberg's data line. Time to look at that as well. She hit the power switch. It would take a while for the computer to wake up and get used to its surroundings. She should have done this last night.

"Funny, though," Firefox said. "Stealing a car and parking it in your own spot?"

Technofox shrugged. "Maybe he couldn't find another place to park. Maybe he slipped up. It's not like he can be arrested because someone stole a car and parked it in his spot. Heck, maybe that's what happened. I'd rather we had this conversation with Shadowfox. We're just speculating."

They were scheduled to meet with Shadow and Silver at 0800. Firefox nodded, and opened her suitcase. She looked at the chest of drawers: there were two, side by side. "Mind if I take the drawers on the left?"

"Not at all." Yes, it was time to get dressed. "Should we try the diner Morgan mentioned?"

"Yeah, I'd like to. I've got a mad desire for grits."

Technofox's clothes didn't fill one drawer. She would have to hand wash yesterday's underwear so it would be dry for tomorrow. "Want me to wash your … things?"

"Breasts or underwear?" Firefox asked, abstractly. She smiled brightly. "Yes, either way."

Technofox giggled, and Firefox walked over to hug her. "Wish we didn't have to work today," Firefox said. "I was thinking we should pay Odenberg a visit. Or his home, rather."

"When?" Technofox asked.

"Chances are he won't be home at ten," Firefox said. "We can talk it over with Silver and Shadow."

"Right," Technofox agreed. Fire was already half-dressed. "I want to work a bit here. See if the car's reported stolen, that sort of thing."

"Okay," Firefox nodded. "I'm going to touch base in the lounge upstairs. Page me when you're done; we'll meet in the diner."

"Right," Technofox agreed. They kissed, and Firefox left as Technofox hopped into her clothes. She should do the laundry first, because that would take time. Fortunately, she had set up some simple macros that could start running down some obvious searches once she plugged in some information. She set it up and went to the bathroom.

It almost seemed a shame to wash Firefox's panties — Technofox thought they smelled better with traces of Firefox. Still, it was necessary. She wondered about that. Unlike humans, she didn't sweat, so theoretically she could spend days without washing without getting notably dirty, but she took a daily shower anyway. It had more to do with fitting in with humans than rational hygiene. Of course, one of the reasons sentient chimera were developed in the first place was to stand between humans and machine intelligences, comfortable with both —

When she was done with the laundry, she returned to her computer. No, the car had not been reported stolen. However, the owner was out of town — he had flown to Milwaukee, and had had dinner last night at the Safe House. If Odenberg had picked that car because he knew Darlingane was out of town, then that implied he had access to information almost as good as ICON's. Which, she realized, wasn't hard to imagine. A successful assassin would study a target before a hit.

She considered that for a few moments. If Odenberg were trying to cover up the fact he was in Atlanta, that implied certain behaviors he would adopt or avoid. He wouldn't have a cell phone with him, unless he had one which couldn't be traced, or use a wireless Internet connection in a way he could be identified. So his communications would be sharply curtailed. He wouldn't use his credit card or bank card; he'd use cash. So that implied no large purchases; credit cards were so ubiquitous that cash transactions stood out. It would be difficult and risky to use a hotel, which was probably why he used his own apartment.

Frowning, she brought up the log of the datalink to Odenberg's apartment. There had been no activity. That was odd. Usually, there would be something — a phone call, computer logging in. Odenberg, apparently, was one of those people who could spend twelve hours without accessing the Internet. Technofox shuddered.

She accessed the security of Odenberg's apartment building, to see if she could tap into camera or electronic key logs. Unfortunately, the building was an old one without integrated electronic security. Which might be why Odenberg had an apartment there.

She checked the time. It had only been about ten minutes, but she brought up a messenger window and sent some text to Firefox:

Done here — meet you in diner soon?

She then considered shutting the laptop down after Firefox's acknowledgment: no, it would be better to hibernate to save a few minutes of boot time. Firefox responded.

No u come here ;-)

Technofox blinked — the message seemed out of character for Firefox; Firefox tended to be more formal. Then she realized that Fire was using the persona she liked to call "The Airhead." It was a bit of a misnomer; The Airhead was bright but not very well educated. Technofox sighed and got to her feet, donning her glasses and sending the computer into hibernation.

Where was the lounge? Tenth floor. She walked to the elevator bank. There was a man in a suit waiting for an elevator; he looked at her trying not to let her see, which made her uncomfortable so she went to the stairs. Two flights up and she regretted it. She should be more used to being stared at, she knew. Most humans were curious about chimera; a glance didn't mean that he was going to rape her the moment they were alone together in an elevator. Still, she didn't like the idea of being alone with human men she didn't know. It had bad associations.

She left the stairwell on the tenth floor and started hunting for the lounge. She knew it probably wouldn't be well marked — her watch signaled; the ringtone (a piece called Madame, Madame) indicated it was a message from Firefox. She looked at her wrist.

I'm Chili. UR Technofox.

Technofox noticed, suddenly, that she had been holding her breath, that she had read and re-read the message several times, pointlessly. It wasn't going to change.

'Chili' was Firefox's Blue Diamond name.

Technofox didn't want her to use it. No more than she wanted to use "Candi."

Someone was coming, so Technofox turned away, faced the wall. She didn't want anyone to see her right now. They came by, silently. Technofox heard —

A cane.

The rubber tip touching the ground, louder than her footfall.

Fear shivered down her back. Technofox looked away from the wall, her eyes falling on a leopard, not much bigger than she was, with long caramel hair, tied into cornrows.

Cheshire's eyes turned at the same moment, locking onto Technofox's an instant after the fox recognized her.

They stared at one another, and Technofox realized that the leopard was as surprised as she was.

Cheshire wore a bathrobe, obviously to conceal something less demure. She wore a black leather collar, with chrome studs. A hint of a black leather strap showed for a moment at her collarbone, and then she moved her head and the robe covered it. Her right leg troubled her. She held a cane, and it looked like it had plenty of spring.

"Cheshire," Technofox murmured.

She fought a desire to kneel, bare her breasts, and kiss the leopard's foot. She felt faint. In that instant, she was back in Blue Diamond. Her liberation, the six months of freedom, none of that mattered. She was a Blue Diamond girl back with her tamer.

"Can —" Cheshire started, and hesitated. "I'm sorry. I don't remember your real name."

"Technofox," the fox replied. She felt a strange relief, hard to describe but very real. Cheshire was behaving like a woman, not like a tamer. If Cheshire had snapped her fingers and pointed at the ground, Technofox knew she would have fallen to her knees. And what was more, Technofox knew that Cheshire knew that.

"Technofox," Cheshire repeated. "Yes, I remember.""I thought your limp was on your left leg," Technofox said, feeling silly after saying it.

"Ah, yes," Cheshire strained to smile. "Your friend, the one we called Sable, she kicked my right knee. My good leg's now my bad leg."

"Shadowfox," Technofox said.

"Ah," Cheshire replied, and nodded.

"What are you doing here?" Technofox asked, baffled.

"I was sold to the building," Cheshire replied. "We're not all self-owning."

"You're still a slave?" Technofox asked, a stupid question.

"Most of the Blue Diamond girls were the legal property of Blue Diamond," Cheshire replied. "Of course I'm still a slave. Why wouldn't I be?"

"What do you do?" Technofox clarified.

"I was a Tamer in Blue Diamond," Cheshire said flatly. "What do you think I do? Who would buy me?"

"Not that," Technofox said, weakly.

"Why not?" Cheshire met her gaze levelly, and didn't turn away.

"Tigre was a monster," Technofox said. "Lilith liked being a Tamer. You didn't."

Cheshire looked away.

"There's something in you that knows it's wrong," Technofox said.

Cheshire rolled her eyes and turned away from Technofox. The leopard looked at her over her shoulder, hiked up the back of her robe, and the short skirt she wore under it. She didn't have panties on. They had seen one another naked enough before that it seemed a natural gesture; one Blue Diamond girl flashing another was hardly intimate.

"See this ass?" Cheshire asked.

"It's a very nice ass," Technofox replied, wondering what her point was.

"Thank you, m' dear. Not really my point, though." She dropped the robe. "It's not just an ass. It's even more than a nice ass. It is the most important ass in the world. And do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because it is my ass," Cheshire answered. "And if it comes down to it, I'd rather give yours fifty then let Tigre give mine five."

"I don't blame you," Technofox agreed. "I've had five from Tigre, and more."

"Then we understand each other."

"Don't try to deny it. You only beat me or made me go down on you if there was an audience." Technofox hesitated. "You avoided hitting me if you could. You were more decent than you had to be. Thank you."

Cheshire snorted, and turned to walk away.

"Wait," Technofox said. "I'm looking for the lounge. Where is it?"

Cheshire looked back at her. "I'm on my way there. Let's go."

Technofox nodded.

"You haven't always been a Tamer, have you?" Technofox asked.

"I used to work in movies," Cheshire said. "Movies and game video. Motion capture. I'd do stunts, martial arts, kendo especially, and then they'd put the actress' avatar over my moves. That _Wonder Woman_ movie? The woman who played Cheetah could barely walk across a room without tripping. So the fight scenes were all me and Wonder Woman's stunt double."

"Really?" Technofox asked, impressed. "I thought that was pure CGI."

"Not in the bigger productions," Cheshire explained. "Directors and stunt choreographers would still rather work with live stunt doubles. The computer models are good, but humans are very visual — they can still spot the difference between a fully synthetic model and a model based on live motion capture. Sort of the way you and I can tell real cherries from artificial cherry flavor by scent. Humans can't do that, mostly."

"I see," Technofox said, unintentionally making a joke. "And then when you hurt your leg —"

"Right," Cheshire interrupted.

Cheshire didn't ask about Technofox's work. And that, Technofox thought, made it obvious that the leopard knew, or suspected, that she was an operative. Like Morgan, she might have no idea what organization Technofox worked for, but it was a logical conclusion. It had to be obvious to Cheshire that Blue Diamond had been taken out by an infiltration team working in concert with outside resources. The security systems of the Blue Diamond megaframe had been corrupted right before Foxforce had destroyed the megaframe itself. The machine intelligence named Blue had been restarted from backups offshore, but Cheshire had to know, or at least suspect, that they were trained agents.

"Here's the lounge," Cheshire said, in a voice just a bit too bright and cheery, the sort of voice she might use to change the subject. She pointed at a door labeled "1062 - Private," and pushed it open.

The room was shabby, but tidy. No two chairs looked quite alike: they ranged from executive chairs to folding plastic. The tables were mismatched, but in good condition: they were probably old, non-digital conference tables. Chess and shogi boards had been laid out on some of them, with plastic pieces sitting in mid-game on most. An automat wall dispensed food, which had the look of restaurant leftovers. Empty beer cans lined one wall, the different brands forming patterns. The smell off brewing coffee filled the air.

Sitting at one table were four women, all chimera. Sitting on the side of the table closest to them, in the best executive chair, was a statuesque skunk, dressed in a teddy under a gaping robe; on seeing Cheshire walk in, she immediately hopped out and moved over one to a more modest office chair. To her right was a white lop-eared rabbit of medium height in a midriff-bearing t-shirt and cutoffs, who saw Cheshire and smiled, relaxed. Sitting across from her was Firefox, who looked up with a smile for Technofox that turned neutral when she saw Cheshire. To Firefox's right was a small orange and white tabby cat, robe cinched tight around her waist, and Technofox was sure, very little under it. She nodded in Cheshire's direction.

Technofox was not at her most astute when reading other people, but Blue Diamond had sharpened her perceptions somewhat. She had seen Tigre walk into a room often enough know what fear looked like. This wasn't it. Even the skunk, who obviously had been sitting in Cheshire's chair, seemed to be following an unwritten rule more than she was hoping to deflect wrath. Of the four, only Firefox seemed to react with any tension.

Cheshire stiffened slightly on seeing Firefox. Technofox could understand: Cheshire wasn't a sadist, but she had been a Tamer. She had inflicted real pain on all of them, and she might even be a target for other Blue Diamond girls.

Cheshire recovered quickly. "Technofox," she said. "Grab a coffee and sit down. The skunk's Stephanie, the rabbit's Chantal, and the cat's Modesty."

"Hi, Cheshire," Stephanie said casually. "This is Chili," she said, gesturing to Firefox.

"Is she?" Cheshire murmured in a soft voice.

"Been a while since Blue Diamond, Cheshire." Firefox said, quietly.

"So you're with Technofox?" Cheshire asked, sitting in the good chair. Technofox drew a mug, and sat in one of the empty ones next to Firefox.

"Stephanie is the skunk and Chantal's the rabbit?" Technofox asked. "That can't be right. I don't think I've met a skunk who wasn't supposed to be French before."

"I blame Mademoiselle Hepzibah," Stephanie said.

"Which is funny," Chantal said, "because I'm from Vincennes."

"Really?" Technofox asked, surprised. France had a small chimera production facility near Paris. Technofox had met a few chimera from Vincennes. They were combat types, designed to help hold the border between Greater Germany and the Soviet Union. She had thought all the chimera out of Vincennes were combat types.

"Tech's teaching me about information technology," Firefox explained. "Someday soon I'll be able to hold a job that doesn't involve putting out to the boss."

"I was telling Chili she could pull in some bucks with my tenant," Stephanie said. She put her hands on her breasts, pushed them together and up, until her nipples almost overflowed the top of her lingerie. "She's got what this guy likes," she said.

Chantal laughed. "And you don't have enough?" She didn't have a trace of an accent.

"There's never enough," Stephanie replied, eyes wide and amazed.

Cheshire chuckled, but Modesty looked away, uncomfortable. Stephanie saw Modesty and glanced at Cheshire, worried. Cheshire sobered.

"Modesty," Cheshire said quietly, "isn't your owner in town?"

Modesty froze. Chantal looked away and Stephanie forced a laugh. "Cut the girl some slack, Cheshire," she said. "She's new at this."

"What, you think it's my decision?" Cheshire asked. "Is that what you're saying?" Her eyes narrowed.

"No, no — of course not," Stephanie hastened to say, waving her hands ingratiatingly. "It's just that —" she cut herself off.

"It's what?" Cheshire asked.

"It's indecent," Modesty said.

"Yes," Cheshire agreed. "So?"

"Steph, Chantal, I don't mean it like that," Modesty said quickly.

"It's okay, honey," Stephanie said reassuringly.

"Do you think you're helping her?" Cheshire asked Stephanie, frowning. Stephanie looked away.

"Cheshire," Modesty said, "please don't chew her out. She told me to listen to you, but —"

"Modesty," Cheshire interrupted. She lifted a hand, expressed her claws, the claws of her thumb and forefinger curling out until they almost touched. "He owns you. He is that close to raping you, or selling you. Do you understand?"

Modesty looked away, refusing to answer.

Cheshire went on. "And if he wakes up and you're not naked next to him —"

"I know —" Modesty started.

"Shut. Up." Cheshire said coldly. "You don't know. If you knew what an owner can do to you, you'd be making him happy. Or he'll sell you off, and then who knows where you'll end up. He owns you. You can be his mistress, or you can be his victim."

Someone drummed their fingers nervously. Technofox was surprised to see it was herself. She forced herself to stop.

Cheshire stood. "I'm taking you back to him right now. If you're lucky, he won't ask me to beat you."

"You wouldn't." Modesty said.

"She would," Firefox said. There was a pause as everyone looked at her. "She has," she finished, in tones that left no doubt who she was talking about. There was a slight, uncomfortable stir around the table.

"Modesty, let's go," Cheshire ordered. She stood, wobbled on her bad leg, put out a hand. Immediately, Modesty got up — Technofox got the impression it was to help steady Cheshire. Cheshire took her hand firmly. Modesty hesitated, and let the leopard lead her out. The door closed.

"So, Modesty's new?" Firefox asked.

"Sort of," Chantal explained. "She was free, but her proxy went under."

Technofox flinched. Technofox was self-owning in Massachusetts, which meant she held her own mortgage. A chimera could be legally human in Massachusetts, but most states didn't recognize her right to own property. So, to satisfy the legalities, her title was co-owned by a company called Foxforce LLC, which had human agents who would rubber-stamp for her whenever she had to do things like sign contracts in jurisdictions which did not consider her a person.

It was a common setup for self-owning chimerae. You had to trust your doctor, your lawyer, your auto mechanic, and your proxy — because if they were incompetent or dishonest, they could ruin your life. If your proxy went bankrupt, you could easily find yourself sold as part of the assets, if you didn't have the foresight to file a lien against yourself with a human secured party.

"She's having trouble adjusting," Chantal explained.

"I'll bet," Firefox said.

"Yeah," Stephanie said, troubled. She brightened. "A lot of the apartments here have resident housekeepers," she said. "My apartment's timeshared, so I get about twenty-five tenants a year. Chantal's owner is a resident."

"I'm kind of his between-girlfriends girl," Chantal explained, easily. "And a taste of home."

Trade between the US and France wasn't entirely cut off — humanitarian goods were still allowed through. Technofox wondered what business Chantal's owner was in.

"Cheshire's … owned by the building. She's sort of an …"

"Overseer," Firefox finished.

"Overseer, yeah," Stephanie admitted. "She's okay, though. Okay for an overseer, anyway."

"She doesn't get off on it," Chantal explained to Technofox. "She'll fake beatings if you'll play along with her." She hesitated. "I know, that sounds pretty pathetic. But it's important when you're in our situation."

"I can imagine," Technofox said.

"That's something, at least," Stephanie looked at Technofox. "Are you in the profession?" she asked. "Have you been?"

For a chimera, the line between "sex slave" and "housekeeper" could be very blurry indeed. Some jurisdictions that allowed humans to own chimera also made sex between a human and a chimera illegal; that just drove the sex slaves underground.

Technofox looked back at Stephanie. She had large breasts, a model's body, one that wouldn't have looked out of place on the cover of a porno. It was obvious that sleeping with the tenants was part of her job, and yet Technofox would lay money that the leasing contract for her apartment made no mention of that. Stephanie was a bit like those "Men only package tours to exotic locations" where they'd take you to prostitutes in third-world countries.

When Stephanie finally died, there would be no way for historians to prove she had been a sex slave.

"No," Technofox replied. "I'm a network engineer. I maintain computers for International Exports."

"I'm sorry if we shocked you," Stephanie apologized. "This early in the day, most of the people here are girls who work nights."

"No," Technofox assured her. "You can't have chimera friends without knowing a few in the industry."

"We've been friends for a long time," Firefox explained. "Roommates since I got out of Blue Diamond. She introduced me to David Torrance."

"So what have you got going?" Stephanie asked. "I mean, with Torrance," she said hastily.

"Sort of an exclusive mistress thing," Firefox explained. "Halfway to girlfriend. So it's probably better if I don't take you up on the offer." She raised coffee to her lips.

"You sure?" Stephanie pressed. "My tenant right now's pretty generous, and discrete. He has flowers delivered. And like I said, he's really into boobs."

"Thanks, but I really don't want to screw up the thing with David," Firefox explained. "I've got a lot riding on it. It's a ticket out of the profession."

"Bet he's shagging some other chimera," Chantal muttered. "Nobody just bangs one chimera."

"Maybe," Firefox agreed. "But like Cheshire said, so? I said he's a ticket out of the profession, not a lover."

"Okay," Stephanie said amiably. "But you should meet my guy at least. He's funny, and he actually cares if I come."

It wasn't too surprising that Stephanie was pushing it. Every two weeks, she had a new lover come in, and she probably devoted a lot of time and energy to convincing each one that he was her special boyfriend. It had to be exhausting.

"I might have some friends who are interested," Firefox said, politely but not committing herself. "I'll pass the contact along."

Stephanie used her implant to send Firefox a code while Technofox watched silently, wondering if Fire were playing a role, or if this contact information were actually significant. She'd have to ask later.

The door opened again, and Cheshire returned. Her lips were pressed together and her brow furrowed.

"Brought her back too late?" Stephanie asked.

"Yes," Cheshire said, shortly. "I've leashed her to the bed." She sat down heavily.

"Modesty's owner shuttles between here, San Francisco, and New York," Stephanie said. "He bought her as a housekeeper when her proxy bankrupted. Now he's divorced, and he's decided to —"

"Add to her responsibilities," Chantal said, not smiling.

"So he's raping her now?" Technofox asked. Her voice cracked, and she coughed to cover it up.

There was a stir around the table, as though Technofox had just used a word they tried to avoid. Cheshire looked at her for a moment.

"Maybe," Cheshire said. "I don't think so. He's been pretty patient so far, and I don't think he thinks of it as rape. I've been advising him to prolong it, and he's gone along with me. Besides, I just went down on him, so she's probably safe for an hour or so." She stared at the table.

"How did you play it?" Stephanie asked, tersely. "I'll lend a hand."

"Stripping the little bitch and slapping her around for a bit gets me so incredibly hot, you see," Cheshire said flatly. "He went off like a gun. Next time Modesty annoys him, he'll probably do her. He's starting to like the violence."

There was a pause, and Chantal shook her head. "I dunno," she said, finally. "I mean, I feel for her, I really do, but you cross a line when you shift it on someone else. You need to carry your own weight. I mean, Cheshire, you've got a—"

"Do you tell her that when you see her?" Cheshire asked, crossly. "Maybe if you were more honest and less nice she wouldn't be in this shit." Chantal and Stephanie didn't try to respond.

Cheshire downed half her mug of coffee in one pull, and then explained to Firefox. "It's been about five days since he decided he wanted her. She resisted, so he got me in to help with his disciplinary problem. I sold him on the idea of sort of coaxing her along — I was hoping she'd co-operate after a day or two. You know, every day get her a little closer, give her time to get used to the idea?"

"I remember," Firefox replied. "You have her drinking out of dildos, force her to masturbate in front of him?"

Cheshire hesitated. "Sort of. Now she's not allowed to leave the apartment, she's not allowed clothes, and she's supposed to sleep in his bed. She's been sneaking out with a robe, though." She glanced at Stephanie, who looked away. "Now she's got a collar and leash. It's not going the way I want it to. They're slipping into a master / slave thing, not a patron / mistress thing."

"That bothers you?" Firefox asked.

Cheshire glared at her. "That was a cheap shot."

Firefox glared back, and after a moment, nodded. "Maybe."

"I dunno. He's only in town another two days, I heard. I just wish she'd get over it and do him. Otherwise, he'll rape her his last night here, figuring she'll have a month to get over it before his next visit. And when he does her, she'll get into it, and he'll decide she gets hot when he gets violent. Worse, he'll decide he likes it when she fights."

"If she gets into it," Chantal said.

"So you've never been forced?" Technofox asked her.

Chantal smiled. "Never gave a man a chance to rape me."

"How?" Technofox asked, curious.

"It's all a matter of attitude. It's different for you, you're a technician, and Chili said you were self-owned. But let's get real — the rest of us are slave girls. The owner says he wants to fuck you, he's going to fuck you. We can't decide if we're going to have sex. You can decide if it's rape or not, though, and I never saw a point in making it rape." She shrugged. "Sort of like French foreign policy since the European War. Oui?"

"D'accord," Technofox replied instinctively.

"Modesty will get into it," Cheshire stated. "It's the way we're designed. I saw some pretty rough stuff at Blue Diamond. And I never saw a chimera girl who didn't get into it."

"Yeah," Firefox grunted.

Cheshire looked ruefully at the wet bar. "Do you guys know the way around that time lock? I could use a drink."

Technofox wordlessly got up from the table and went over to the dispenser. She took out her phone. Her hand was shaking. Maybe she had had too much coffee.

The security on the automat looked like a simple setup. During most of the day, it would identify the chimera using it and bill their account.

If a bartender were not in the room, however, it would lock out anyone without bartender access. So, technically it wasn't a time lock; it was designed to prevent unsupervised use. Interesting that Cheshire didn't have that sort of access.

"I hate to see her screwing up like this," Stephanie said, finally. "I mean, if he rapes her and she's dumb enough to resent it, it'll wreck her as a housekeeper. And then he'll sell her to a whorehouse." She shook her head. "I spent time in one. It took me a few years to get this gig. Being timeshared can get a little rough — I've got like two tenants a month, I sleep with all of them, and half of them think I'm their girlfriend, so I'm answering emails and running IM sex sessions all fucking day — but it's tons better than doing five or ten johns a night. Melody's gig isn't that tough. She's got one guy to entertain. Shit, I wouldn't mind swapping with her."

"She needs to hear you say that," Cheshire stated.

Firefox looked at Stephanie. "Do you send your tenants pictures?"

"Sometimes. Why?"

"I know a photographer. He might be available."

"Does he have a portfolio?" Stephanie asked. Firefox transmitted the link. "Thanks."

Technofox used the phone to access the manufacturer's website, skipped past the firewall to their internal tools, and downloaded one of the override keys. Setting her own ID chip to match, she logged in as an admin and set herself up as a bartender. She finished her coffee, drew two fingers of generic white lightning into her cup — there was only one alcoholic drink in the dispenser — and plunked it down in front of Cheshire.

"How did you do that?" Chantal asked, amazed.

"Kitsune magic," Firefox interrupted, knowing that Tech had a bad habit of answering questions like that honestly.

"Can you get free booze?" Chantal continued, fascinated with the possibilities.

"No," Technofox lied. She looked at Cheshire. "There's something I've always wondered about Blue Diamond."

Cheshire looked back at her, and downed the hooch at a gulp. She shuddered a moment after swallowing. It had to be a strange moment for the jaguar, knowing that Technofox was a Blue Diamond girl. Cheshire wouldn't want to co-operate with Foxforce, but she was also obviously reluctant to run afoul of them. "Yes?" she asked, finally.

"I've seen pictures, of furniture designed to tie women down," she said. "Did you have special name for that equipment?"

"…Yes," Cheshire replied, confused by the question. "Most of it is standard furniture, built strong, with metal eyes added to lock down chains. In that case, you'd just add the word 'Restraint.' So there would be restraint beds, restraint chairs, restraint bench, that sort of thing. If it was designed to be uncomfortable, we'd use 'struggle' instead. That way, the girl would squirm when she was giving service and it would be more fun for the client. Sometimes we'd use the word 'free' to describe something that wasn't bondage equipment."

"So this," Technofox said, tapping her coffee mug down, "this is a 'free table'?"

"Yes," Cheshire said. "There's some specialized terms, too. A 'table' isn't padded. A 'board' is padded. A 'frame' holds the woman standing and exposes as much as possible."

"Ah. So a padded chaise lounge with an adjustable headboard and anchor points would be a 'restraint board.'"

Cheshire met her eyes, and Technofox knew that she remembered that had been the first thing she had chained the little fox to. "Yes ... why do you ask?"

Technofox shrugged. "I like words," she said.

Cheshire looked at Technofox, obviously wondering if she was missing something, if Technofox was weaving a subtle web of intrigue. Technofox allowed herself a slight smile, which grew wider with Cheshire's obvious discomfort.

…Okay, maybe Technofox did resent her, a little.

Firefox got up. "Tech, we have to go."

Technofox looked up. "Right."

"Don't you two do anything rash," Cheshire said. "I mean it."

"Well, that's a crap situation," Firefox said, finally.

She was leaning against the wall of the elevator, arms folded and eyes half-closed. She looked at Technofox, a moment the engineer had been dreading.

"Any ideas?" Firefox asked. "Because I'm stumped."

"He's not doing anything illegal," Technofox said.

"No, just evil," Firefox said. She shook her head. "I don't know. We've got problems of our own, and I bet you could find a dozen women in her position a mile from here. But when it sort of drops in your lap you want to help. Stupid, huh?"

Technofox sighed. Firefox was right, news reports were one thing but it was different when it was in your face. Technofox glanced up at the security camera in the corner of the roof, and Firefox barely nodded. She pressed the third floor button, so they'd stop at their apartment. That was disturbing — Firefox was upset enough by this to have a council of war.

Silently, Technofox followed her to their room, and closed the door behind them.

"The only permanent solution is helping her run to a free state," Technofox said.

Firefox snorted. "Not in the next two days. Besides, that's risky. A lot of runners get remorseful and turn back. That discredits the underground railroad and compromises it. If she came to us and asked for help, maybe, but if she doesn't want to run we're not going to talk her into it."

"We can't save every girl in trouble," Technofox said. "Besides, maybe she'll give in."

"Yeah," Firefox said. "I guess that's the happy ending everyone's hoping for. She should just go along with it. You and I both know she'll like it. So what's the harm? Why make such a fuss?" Her voice was flat and toneless. "The four of us are out of Blue Diamond because a stranger gave a damn."

"We owe Andrew a lot," Technofox agreed.

"Not just Andrew. We owe … I don't know. God. Fate." Firefox snapped out the last word, and shook her head. "I'm sorry. That must sound stupid."

"No. You're right," Technofox said. She turned away and went to her laptop. She opened it, and the screen winked on. "I'm going to run a profile on her owner. Maybe something will pop up." As long as she had it open, she checked for electronic traffic to and from Odenberg's apartment. There was none, which was troubling and gratifying: the good news was that she wasn't neglecting Odenberg; the bad news was that there was nothing to neglect. She toggled a switch to alert her remotely if data came through.

"Thanks," Firefox said, and Technofox had to think before she realized she was thanking her for looking into Modesty. Technofox hated having to multitask. She did better work when she could focus.

"Why did Cheshire warn us off? Why did she assume we'd do something rash about Modesty?"

"I'm not sure," Firefox said, and it was obvious the question troubled her.

"She probably knows we're operatives."

"Suspects," Firefox corrected.

"C'mon," Technofox shook her head impatiently. "Look at how Blue Diamond went down. E-warfare infiltration on the security systems, then she sees the four of us physically shut down the megaframe and blow the fuel cells, and then there's media coverage outside. It was obviously a multi-pronged attack with elements inside and outside and she knows we infiltrated. She doesn't know we're ICON, but she knows damn well we're ops."

"Probably," Firefox agreed. "Let's grab some breakfast." She leaned down and kissed Technofox's head affectionately. Technofox smiled.

"I forgot to ask," Firefox said in the elevator. "Did you see anything coming across that tap Shadow set up?"

One of the nice things about using network engineer as a cover was that conversations like that could take place in the open.

"Nothing came across that tap," Technofox said carefully.

"Huh."

"Right. Either it was improperly placed, or —" Technofox's ears jerked. She sighed and screwed her eyes closed, embarrassed.

"Or?" Firefox asked blandly.

"Or there's an alternate route for that traffic," Technofox said.

"Or there's no messages being carried," Firefox reminded her.

"That's a little hard to believe," Technofox said. "Seven hours without email?"

"I dunno." The elevator doors opened and they stepped into the lobby. In a more public area, it would be a bit tougher for an observer to follow their conversation. "Maybe he's asleep. Maybe he likes radio silence. Maybe he's got a good server-side spam filter."

Cellular modem, Technofox thought. "There's something I need to check," Technofox said, and started to turn away.

"After breakfast," Firefox said, taking her shoulder firmly in one hand, a half-mocking threat.

She steered Technofox into the diner. There weren't too many people there. Technofox noticed Morgan, sitting in a booth with some old human guy. Technofox wondered if there were any regional delicacies she should try — probably not, since this was breakfast and a small diner, not even a family restaurant — when she noticed the pressure on her shoulder spike, and then relax.

Firefox was looking at the human in Morgan's booth. She wasn't reacting visibly, but she was fighting it, and fighting hard.

Technofox mentally photographed his face, and scrutinized it in her memory. Was that anyone important? Between two steps, it clicked. At first, she expressed the question in stunned disbelief.

That wasn't Travis Walton, was it?

That couldn't possibly be Travis Walton.

He looked up and at the two of them. He had steak and eggs on his plate, coffee, grapefruit juice.

He smiled pleasantly. "Chili," he said. "What a wonderful surprise! Have you had breakfast yet? Won't you and your friend sit down?"

No, Technofox thought, it couldn't possibly be Travis Walton. Even though he used the name "Chili." Walton had raped Firefox in Blue Diamond. How could he possibly look back at her, and smile, and talk as though to an friend met under pleasant circumstances? He knew what he had done. It was insane to think he could be so casual after that.

"Travis," Firefox said, her voice low. "Well, well. No chains, and no Tigre."

No, Technofox realized. That was Travis Walton. Firefox recognized him.

He looked sad. "Blue Diamond is gone, yes," he said. "But there are more chains that need to be broken." He smiled, just slightly, the picture of a man struggling against injustice, yet pleased to do so. "I've always enjoyed your company, and I hope to resume where we left off."

Technofox's jaw dropped.

He was provoking Firefox. Deliberately.

"I wouldn't mind doing that," Firefox replied, sitting down across from him. "I'm looking forward to responding to some of the points you raised."

Provoking her, in public, where an outburst from Firefox would make her look like a nut. Was he after a restraining order?

That left one obvious place for Technofox to sit: next to Walton. And she couldn't do that. Instead, she perched on the extreme edge of the cushioned bench on the other side, and applied pressure to Firefox's hip to get her to scootch over. This forced Firefox closer against Morgan, which Morgan didn't seem to mind, which Technofox did.

"You've met before?" Morgan asked, surprised and impressed. Well, of course. How would he know?

There was an awkward silence. Firefox smiled softly. "Why don't you tell him, Travis?"

"We met at Blue Diamond," Walton explained. "This was before I joined the NAAAP. There were some rumors about mistreatment there, and I was investigating them."

For a moment, Technofox honestly mishear him as saying "instigating."

"The problem was that the only way to get some time alone with the women being kept there was…" he trailed off, embarrassed. "Well, to go there and hire them."

"Good lord," Morgan said, surprised. "I can see why you'd keep it quiet."

"Exactly," Walton said. He went on to explain to him. "There's really no way to prove what happened once the doors closed."

"Unfortunately," Firefox said.

"Of course," Walton explained, "all I did was talk to them, and what I heard was enough to make me drop some words in a few appropriate ears. I should have done more, of course, but I suppose I didn't really hit the point where I had to do something until after Blue Diamond was shut down."

"How proud your son must be of you," Firefox said cordially.

Was Technofox imagining it, or was there a soft flicker across his face at that? A hint that Firefox's comment had struck home?

And now he was even taking credit for shutting down Blue Diamond, or at least was hinting broadly at it… Technofox couldn't say anything. It was as though part of her mind had shut down.

Technofox looked over at Morgan. "You're his bodyguard?" she asked.

Morgan blinked. "Yes, my boss cut a deal in return for special access. I'm helping to provide security."

Technofox nodded. That complicated matters. Morgan wore armor, she was sure, even if Walton didn't. And that meant a close attack was out of the question — even if Firefox could take out Morgan, he would ruin the kill. And there was the problem of a witness. They certainly couldn't kill Morgan just because he believed what every Newsnet was saying about Walton. That was always the danger of this sort of work: an assassination should reduce tension, not build it, and Technofox wanted a single, clean kill.

"If you interviewed two girls," Firefox mused. "They might back up your story."

"Two girls willing to tell the same story," Walton said. "Yes?"

"Yes…" Firefox said after a moment.

"Unfortunately," Walton said, "a lot of the women who were owned by Blue Diamond are still slaves. And you know what that means. They're vulnerable to pressure. Even if they had the courage to tell the truth, it would be a terrible thing to expose a woman to that."

Firefox considered the matter, and nodded.

"At any rate," Walton said, "it would be a media circus."

"Yes, it would," Firefox agreed. And that was a good point. There was no way for Firefox to accuse him formally without destroying her career with ICON and Foxforce. "I've never been fond of media circuses anyway. It's much better to keep things quiet, and fix your own problems."

"So, it's probably best for everyone concerned that our meeting remain … a little secret between the two of us," he said. He smiled. "A pleasant memory for us both, I think. I'm sure you enjoyed our talks as much as I did."

Firefox looked at Walton, no expression on her face.

"You saw to that," Technofox interrupted.

"Yes," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "Yes, I did. Oh, but you haven't ordered yet. Should I call the waitress over?"

"That's all right," Firefox said. "I don't have much of an appetite this morning. And we have to get to work."

"Right," Technofox agreed. "We really just came down to see if some friends had shown up."

"That's something I like about my job," Firefox nodded. "You get to make so many good friends. I'm looking forward to seeing you again, Travis."

"I need to squeal with delight," Silverfox said, holding the two Glock 20s. She cleared her throat, and squealed with delight. "Apart from Hans Gruber's penis, these are the best things to come out of Greater Germany since the Ribbentrop-Molotov-Eden Truce."

Firefox half smiled to herself.

Silverfox looked over at Shadowfox. "You sure you don't want any weapons?"

"I am a weapon," Shadowfox replied blandly. "Those are merely tools. And just having them out of the saferoom threatens our cover."

"Speaking of which," Technofox said, "Chantal's a paramilitary model."

"Who?" Silverfox asked.

"There's a French commando in the building posing as a housekeeper," Technofox explained. "Her model's raw performance data's on a par with you three."

"Well, that's interesting," Firefox said. "What side is she on?"

"Hard to say. She might be French government. But a lot of the lapin types went AWOL from the French SS, so she might be a freelancer. She might even be a private bodyguard."

Firefox scratched her jaw. "Still no reason to think she's involved in anything we are. Worth keeping in mind, anyway," she said. "Europe's so screwed up there's French lapins on every side."

"I just wish the US had gotten involved in the European War," Technofox said abstractly, tapping at her laptop. "Might have invaded Europe and taken the Nazis out once and for all."

"The US was busy with Japan. Besides, they prefer 'National Socialist,'" Silverfox reminded her.

"I do not particularly care what they prefer," Technofox said with a frown. "And you really should carry those unloaded in a gun case until there's a clear threat."

"Don't listen to the nasty, dried up little virgin," Silverfox whispered to the pistols. "Your mommy loves you, and she wants you near her." She kissed them gently and thrust them into cross-draw holsters under her jacket. Through a miracle of tailoring, they weren't obvious. "Anyway," Silverfox said, "Then the clerk behind the desk looks at us, and asks if we wanted a king or two queens, and —"

"And I said two queens," Shadowfox said.

"Right. And I won't forgive you that." Silverfox mock-glared at Shadow. "You could tell he was going to pop, just thinking about it — what the hell are you looking at, Tech? Here I am talking about all kinds of important things and she's playing _Call to the World of EverQuest for the Ringcraft_ or some shit."

Technofox laughed out loud. "Sorry," she said. "You know how Shadow put a tap on Odenberg's data line last night?"

"Yes?" Shadowfox said, coming around to look at Technofox's laptop. "Is that from his feed?" she asked.

"No," Technofox said. "That feed's showing no activity. This is from Odenberg's cellular modem." She looked up for a moment. "He's in Texas."

Shadowfox was silent. Firefox frowned. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Well," Technofox said, "either he's using one hell of a good set of proxies, which is possible, or he's in the outskirts of Houston playing _Realms of High Fantasy._" Technofox frowned. "Maybe he's tapped into another apartment's data feed? It's tricky, but possible…" They were in Atlanta on Shadowfox's say-so, and Technofox was reluctant to say that Shadowfox had blown it.

"Well," Shadowfox reflected, "I didn't actually see him. Do you think he's on a job in Houston?"

Technofox leaned forward. "Maybe." She minimized the live feed and brought up another window. "Here, watch this."

The other three crowded around her. The picture was a typical over-the-shoulders view of a synthetic landscape. Odenberg's character was a warrior wearing spiked armor. What was it with spiked armor in games? It couldn't be practical.

In the background was a tree that seemed to be made of corpses frozen into their last screams. Text indicated that it was the Tree of Woe. A bubble appeared over another warrior, which indicated he was Mortimer the Fish Monger.

"Mortimer the Fish Monger is a character run by Vito Morcelli, a made man with the Tataglia family," Technofox said. "He's a clerk, or something. Not a soldier. Now watch this."

Odenberg's character got Mortimer's attention. The EMOTE action menu appeared, and then Odenberg waved with his left hand, placed his hands on his hips, waved with this left hand a second time, and slapped himself in the forehead with his palm. Mortimer nodded. Odenberg nodded in return, and Mortimer's avatar turned sparkly and wooshed away as his player logged out.

"That little dance he did? To make those gestures," Technofox said, "Odenberg had to hit the keys 0, 2, 0, and 9."

Firefox nodded slowly. "And today is February 8th."