Technofox

Chapter Five

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 beginning to like the chimera lounge. Despite its cheapness, or maybe because of it, it had an amiable appeal, as though it were her living room. Most of Technofox's friends (aside from Foxforce) were humans, and there was something comforting about being a room surrounded by other chimerae, knowing that there wasn't any need to explain chimera jokes or problems to humans, not even to sympathetic humans. She liked the smell of fur; the delicate tinge in laughter that did not come from human throats. She usually hated distractions, but the lounge made her feel warm and connected in a way she usually felt only around Foxforce.

It reminded her of sitting around in a dressing room in Blue Diamond with other slaves, but without the chains and the constant tension of waiting for a guard or a Tamer to walk in and tow you to a client.

She felt guilty thinking of Blue Diamond with anything like nostalgia, but Blue Diamond hadn't been all violation. There had been moments of sitting and talking with others, and the barriers Technofox usually raised before strangers seemed silly with women who had licked your nipples in front of a paying audience. There had been moments of companionship and even fun; silly, senseless jokes and long, pointless rambling conversations.

She wondered if she should go to one of the chimera hot spots back in Boston; Firefox had a favorite bar ... maybe she could ask Firefox to take her there, even though it seemed like an imposition.

She shook her head and tried to concentrate on her work. One of Technofox's weaknesses was that she had difficulty juggling multiple projects. She disliked switching between two, and now she had three: the murder 7.62 would probably commit tomorrow, Walton, and Modesty. She liked to prioritize her tasks.

7.62 was a paying gig, and they were in Atlanta on ICON's dime; professional ethics demanded that be given the highest possible priority.

Walton was important, to her personally, and to Firefox, but that plan was in very early stages and there was no hard deadline.

Modesty was time critical, but she was neither a paying client nor a close personal friend. Still, the time issue was paramount in her case: unless they could close out Modesty's problem in short order, it would be too late. Therefore, Technofox should focus her efforts on 7.62, Modesty, and Walton in that order.

7.62 was, like it or not, more or less in "wait and see" mode. The programs running on Technofox's laptop back in the room were monitoring police and sensor feeds and would send her an alert if something significant came up.

Therefore, Technofox looked up at Modesty. The feline was drinking from a chipped coffee mug with the logo from some forgotten company. Technofox wondered if perhaps it was the same company that provided the furniture, so she looked more closely at the logo. WWW.ASTRON.BIZ. She brought up a web browser and ran a quick search. The URL was up for grabs.

Idly, she wondered what they did, what they sold, and how their office supplies had made it into the chimera lounge of a condominium. She could find out easily enough, but it didn't seem like a responsible use of assets.

Still, it was an intriguing thought. At one time, the chair under Stephanie's tail had been warmed by the butt of a vice president of something; now it supported Stephanie's. Technofox wondered how the chair felt about that; at least it was a nicer butt. Probably, unless Astron sold exercise equipment.

"So Travis Walton stays here?" Firefox asked brightly.

"You don't want to meet him," Stephanie said immediately.

Firefox looked at her, surprised. "But he's an advocate, on our side."

"Yeah well, that's human politics bullshit," Stephanie said dismissively. "I'm talking about sex. He's into stuff you wouldn't like. I mean, I'm a pro and I can handle it, but I think you don't want to go there. Can we drop the subject? I think there's some confidentiality issues here."

"Sure," Firefox said. "But now I'm curious."

So was Technofox. Stephanie was a professional, and earlier she had tried to recruit Firefox for a threesie with her tenant. Was she warning Firefox off? Was Walton a lucrative client, or was Stephanie being honest and extending a polite warning to a casual friend?

She looked back at Modesty.

Technofox didn't like talking to people she didn't know well, especially about something like this -- but she was worried. Everything Technofox had learned from Tigre told her that Modesty was making a terrible mistake, that the cat was daring her owner to prove he was serious. And he would.

"I thought your owner leashed you to the bed," Technofox said tentatively. It seemed very unwise to antagonize him by slipping the chain and walking about -- he'd just come up with something more secure.

Modesty looked up, and swallowed a bite of the small sandwich in her hand. They had all kicked in for a Bucket-O-Burger; a chain that hadn't made it to Boston yet; the bucket boasted proudly that they were "Mostly Beef" which raised all sorts of questions, but they tasted good. Each burger had a different sauce, and part of the fun was biting into one with no real idea of how it would taste, apart from smell. Technofox hadn't noticed any sauce duplications yet and between the five of them they were more than halfway through a twenty-burger bucket.

"Put that thing away," Modesty said. "It makes me feel like you're taking notes on everything I say."

Technofox saved "Notes on Modesty.doc" and closed her notebook computer. That threw a switch and the machine automatically locked itself and hibernated. It felt uncomfortable not to be connected, but she reminded herself of the smartphone on her hip. The computer in their apartment was running a series of different monitoring tasks; if something interesting turned up Technofox would get a message on her cellphone. Technofox liked to have multiple lines of communication, overlapping so she could turn off her notebook and still remain linked. It was easy to do nowadays when just about every piece of consumer electronics came with a web link.

It still seemed odd to work without a computer under her fingertips, but there was also something fascinating in the idea; of trying to help Modesty with her problem directly instead of collating reports from Shadowfox and Firefox. She had always wanted to do more fieldwork.

"He let me go after Cheshire left," Modesty said. She hesitated. "And he said that it was okay for me to get dressed and go out today, as long as I had dinner ready by six."

"Well, that's good news," Technofox said, more confidently than she felt. Technofox wasn't used to talking directly to the subject of a mission, and she wondered if she was doing it right.

Was Modesty lying? It seemed possible. Cheshire had come down on her before about disobeying him;Modesty might expect the same from Technofox and might not want to deal with that...

"...Yes," Modesty said reluctantly. "I should feel better but I don't. Sometimes I wish he'd just rape me and get it over with. Which makes no sense. I don't know if that makes sense to you."

Technofox felt her hackles stir. It was an unfair response; Modesty didn't know she had been in Blue Diamond. "I suppose," Technofox agreed. The conversation was obviously over.

Firefox was wearing what Technofox thought of as The Power Girl shirt. Technofox could be lifted out of a bad mood just by contemplating the fact she lived in a universe where Firefox had her Power Girl shirt. It was a match between shirt and woman which was probably unexcelled in all the possible street-legal combinations of shirts and women, at least in Technofox's opinion.

The shirt was white, made of some stretchy fabric that clung to Firefox and moved with her almost like a second skin. It had a round window in front which seemed to defy not only physics but topology, constantly threatening to let Firefox's Power Girls out.

The shirt somehow provided support without entirely suppressing a hypnotic bounce when Firefox turned abruptly. It was possible to see the subtle outline of her nipples, and to see how close they got to the edge of the fabric without ever quite crossing that hurdle. It seemed at times that this shirt was sentient, and that it was in a permanent battle with Firefox's breasts, that the shirt fought to conceal her nipples while they strained for the light. The dialectic struggle between shirt and nipple was engrossing. Technofox rooted for the nipples. They always lost, but it was fun to imagine the defeat of the shirt. Of course, if the shirt ever lost, Firefox wouldn't wear it in public again -- and Technofox liked it when she wore it in public. Sometimes, she would see someone who was almost certainly fantasizing about taking Firefox to bed, and Technofox could reflect smugly that she got to do it for real. Even though people wouldn't assume they were lovers when they saw them together, it was nice to think she was envied.

But by wearing it, Firefox had dressed to attract attention, and part of Technofox was worried by that.

Firefox turned abruptly, momentarily driving rational thought out of Technofox's mind, and leaving her to revel in semi-fluid oscillation for several brain-cycles. Firefox looked up and over at Modesty, as though she wanted to say something. Technofox looked up to the fox's face. Firefox was uncertain about speaking. But finally, she did.

"Modesty," she said, "If you don't mind my asking ... leashing you to his bed, sleeping with him nude -- was that all your idea, his idea, or Cheshire's idea?"

Modesty shifted uncomfortably. Technofox looked at Firefox, baffled. Obviously it had been his idea.

"Cheshire said I should do that," Modesty said. "Sleep with him, I mean."

Technofox blinked, surprised. She hadn't expected that. "And she leashed you?" Firefox persisted.

"Yes," Modesty said.

There was a moment of silence, as Technofox and Firefox glanced at one another. Technofox was beginning to feel a theory well up.

"Cheshire has this trick she plays to make the clients less aggressive," Technofox said, "I was restrained, waiting for a client. She was in the room. When the client came in, she caned me once, and said 'Fifteen' as though she were counting off a punishment. He told her to stop and leave me alone."

"And then he felt so sorry for you he treated you like a lady?" Firefox asked sardonically.

"No, but I think it made him feel protective -- he didn't knock me around that time."

"She did that with me, too, but it had nothing to do with making the client sorry for me," Firefox objected. Technofox noticed she didn't use names, but she was obviously talking about Walton. "She told stories about beating me up and fucking me because it got Little Client hard."

That was interesting. Why was Firefox keeping Walton's secret? They probably knew already through Stephanie.

"Sure, but that was one guy and he's a freak." Technofox realized she was onto something. "Most guys want the girls to think of them as protectors, even in Blue Diamond. Heck, it's probably instinctive --"

Suddenly, Technofox became aware that Stephanie and Modesty were both staring at her. Chantal was quietly looking at her own hamburger, as though she needed her eyes to taste it.

"You were in Blue Diamond too?" Stephanie asked, her tones neutral. "With Cheshire and Chili?"

"Uhm," Technofox replied, looking away nervously. She had a thought, she couldn't keep it in, and she had spilled something that she didn't need to spill. Was it because she felt so comfortable here among her own that she had forgotten to hold them at arm's length? Maybe she shouldn't be a field agent.

Was it because she knew that "Blue Diamond Girl" meant something different for these women? Something closer to the truth?

"That's where we met," Firefox said. She was silent for a moment. "We sort of hung together when we got out."

"GOD - DAMNIT!" Modesty suddenly yelled, slamming her fist into the table. Her claws had extended into the burger, and the impact shredded it into a wasabi-smelling smear on the table. The others looked at her, stunned. She pointed, accusingly, at Technofox.

"I thought you were a network engineer," she snapped.

"That too," Technofox said, frightened.

Modesty's eyes blazed as she stared at Technofox, but somehow Technofox came to realize, and the others knew, that it wasn't directed at the small vixen. Modesty's anger was focused on something else.

"I thought," Modesty said, "I thought that I'd finally met another artificial that never got forced by one of the fucking humans. I thought, hey, there's Technofox too -- she's never had to --" her voice cracked and she swallowed. "I mean, I just don't want a man inside me unless I want him. Is that too much to ask?"

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"...Yes," Stephanie said. "It is."

"No," Firefox snapped.

"But it is, isn't it?" Modesty said with a laugh. "Even a hooker gets to choose. If she's human."

"I'm with Cheshire," Stephanie said. She looked at Firefox. "You're not helping Modesty any. We've been encouraging her in a fantasy. Cheshire's right. She needs to give in. She needs to be his lady friend in Atlanta instead of his fuck slave. Modesty, honey, you're not doing yourself any good. Let him have his fun, and just relax and enjoy what you can." She reached out and stroked her face. "Modesty, I'm sorry, but this is why the humans created us. Nobody will think less of you for it. And there's fun in it too; just forget the man and concentrate on what he puts in you. Believe me, I know. It does feel good, really."

"Hate the sinner, love the sin," Chantal muttered under her breath.

"Modesty, you don't have to give up," Firefox said.

Stephanie glanced at Firefox. "Didn't you learn anything at Blue Diamond?"

"Yes, I did," Firefox said. "I learned there's not much I won't do if someone threatens me or mine with a whip. I learned that the woman with the whip was a chimera. I learned that I could envy someone who has to live like you do.

"And you want to know what else I learned, Stephanie? Once people heard about Blue Diamond, the place was shut down. I saw the men who were lining up to screw us the night before line up to carry chimera hookers on stretchers. I saw a patron insist an injured chimera get treated before him. Most of the clients were horrified to learn we were locked up in cells. There's decency in them."

"They're faking," Stephanie said bluntly.

"Some maybe," Firefox admitted. "Not all. I was raped by men who thought I was putting on a show for them. Maybe to you Blue Diamond means that we don't have a choice. To me it means that Master, Tigre, and the freaks who got off on my pain are bugs under a rock, running away from the light. And that is because most people, humans, chimerae, machines, are decent."

Stephanie was quiet for a moment "Do you think I like what I do? They threatened to send me to Blue Diamond," she said, her voice flat.

"Then it was smart of you to go along with them," Firefox said, steadily. "I would have made the same choice. I've always hated that 'I'm more oppressed than you' one-upmanship bullshit. What about you, Tech?"

"...Yes," Technofox said, considering. "One of my regulars hinted he might buy me outright. Even being timeshared would have been wonderful. Anything to get away from Tigre. You did the right thing, Stephanie. There's not a Blue Diamond girl who would hold it against you."

"It's a matter of investment," Firefox said. "If your owner's sleeping with you exclusively, then you have to work hard to keep him interested. That's not easy; it's not a great analogy but look at the divorce rate."

Chantal laughed out loud. "Like you said, it's not a good analogy. Marriage is a partnership but a mistress is out the moment he's bored with you," she said, snapping her fingers. "I used to work in a brothel. Having multiple clients a day is also rough. It's hard to keep up the energy, physically, but it's less ... I don't know, less of a mental strain? If one client doesn't like you, there's others, but when you're a mistress you can't screw up once. I'm just glad I'm not really his full time mistress -- just someone he sleeps with between girlfriends."

Stephanie nodded. "Someone hiring you for two weeks has a bigger emotional connection than someone buying an hour of your time. And you don't have all your eggs in one basket, like you do if you're one man's owned mistress."

"If I had to be a prostitute, being time shared's probably the best compromise between five tricks a day and trying to keep one guy happy and fascinated 24/7," Firefox said finally.

Stephanie looked over at Modesty. "Want some advice on how to play it?" she asked.

"I don't want to play it at all," Modesty replied immediately.

Stephanie nodded, looking worried.

"Five tricks a day?" Technofox asked. "Is that the production target?"

"Yeah," Firefox said. "Tigre mentioned once that once to me. Some brothels go to eight or ten, but Blue Diamond preferred to keep the cap lower. Blue Diamond thrived on repeat business and they wanted their girls to establish relationships. You see, if a client hires a Blue Diamond girl for the night, he'll usually take her to dinner in a Blue Diamond restaurant and maybe even a date where he pays for a ticket, gives her money to lose in the casino, and then it's back to his hotel room where he pays her to sleep."

"Huh," Technofox said, a little taken aback.

Tigre had helped "cure" Silverfox's lesbianism. Silverfox had been given a choice between sleeping with Tigre and sleeping with Master, or gang-rape if she didn't choose. Silverfox had chosen Tigre. The next day, she had asked for Master. Tigre had trumped Silverfox's gender preferences in one night.

Tigre had never taken Technofox to bed. She would do anything to keep that from happening.

Tigre had taken Firefox to bed. Over and over again.

Tigre had taken Firefox to sleep in her room fairly often. Firefox had always minimized it, claiming it hadn't been bad -- but of course she would do that no matter how bad it got.

Technofox remembered laying on her bunk, knowing that Firefox wasn't in the next cell over, trying not to think of what the white tiger was doing to her, but doing it anyway. "Engage Firefox in conversation about slave brothel management" had never crossed her mind. Had there been more to Tigre than beating and raping? Well, there had to be... but had Firefox seen that?

"Thank you. That does mean something to me," Stephanie said. "But how does that help Modesty?"

"I don't know," Firefox admitted. She addressed the little feline. "Maybe you should go along with it. Maybe you should resist. Maybe you should run North. But first things first. What you can't do is confuse the battle for the war."

"I don't understand," Modesty said, frightened.

Firefox swallowed. "You see, the battle's between your legs." She tapped Modesty's forehead. "But the war's in there. No matter what you do, no matter how it feels when you do it, the force and threats are wrong, and it's on their hands for forcing you, not yours for giving in. I don't give a damn what the humans made me for, or how good it felt when they did me. None of that makes it okay. I'm a woman, not a toy."

"Are you saying I should sleep with him, or not?" Modesty asked.

"I'm saying it's up to you," Firefox said, with a shrug. "I'm sorry. I can't help you decide."

"No, I guess not," Modesty said. She looked at her hand, and then at Technofox. "Stephanie," she asked, "what about that picture?"

Stephanie looked back at a print she was holding, with the air of someone who was trying to seem more relaxed than she was. The conversation had obviously rattled her.

"I think it's very sweet," Chantal said. "There's a lot of love in Firefox's eyes." She looked at Firefox. "Do you model? Professionally?"

"Just for him," Firefox said.

"Yes," Stephanie agreed. "Usually I don't like nude pictures where the girl is looking at the camera. They always look posed," Stephanie said, "but this is different. I've tried to do the whole camera - is - your - lover thing, but I think you pulled it off. I'm guessing that you're screwing the photographer or something."

Technofox hesitated, her claws pausing for a moment on the table. Firefox chuckled. "Yeah, he's a good friend."

"Don't kid yourself," Stephanie said abstractly. "Human / Chimera relationships never work out except in movies where the writer's being all edgy and shit. We're just pretty things they stick their dicks into."

"That describes a lot of human on human relationships too," Modesty said.

Firefox set her jaw but didn't say anything. Stephanie leaned back in her chair and looked at the picture thoughtfully. It was a high resolution hardcopy; Firefox had insisted on the best possible quality. Technofox looked at her. She was surprised by the serious look on Stephanie's face; then she reminded herself that selling sex was the skunk's profession, and that Stephanie was intrigued by the picture.

"I just don't know if we can afford to bring a photographer from Boston," Stephanie said, "I usually get mine done by photography students."

"How do they look?" Firefox asked.

"Like shit," Chantal broke in.

Stephanie grinned. "Good enough for people to download," she said.

"That's not very good," Chantal pointed out. "You're as hot as Chili here, but you can't tell me any of your pictures are as good as that one."

Stephanie nodded in agreement. "Instead of my eyes half closed in ecstasy, I always look like I'm going to sleep."

"And there was the guy who kept cutting off my ears. I wanted to kill him."

"There's always going to be some rotten pictures," Firefox said.

"And half the time they think it's their chance to score some furry tail," Chantal said. "I'll bet they don't try that with human life models."

"You ever see the life models colleges hire?" Technofox wrinkled her snout. "Colleges don't pay much or get much."

Chantal laughed out loud.

Stephanie shrugged. "If they hit on you, it's a chance to get their fee back from them," she said. "But you'd think they'd put some of that passion into their photos."

"Who is 'we?'" Technofox asked, curiously. "There's a co-operative?"

Stephanie looked over. "Sort of. I'm timeshared, and sometimes I send the johns pictures to keep their interest up when they're not here. Some of the others here do the same, or sell their pictures to the web. Chantal's the poster girl for an escort service in Nevada."

"Umm," Chantal said, nodding before she swallowed. "They're even talking about flying me out there for a week."

"Your owner is okay with your travelling?" Technofox asked, surprised.

"Sure. I've done it before, but not to Nevada. He even lets me keep ten percent of the gross for myself," Chantal said.

"I'd like to see how he declares that on his taxes," Technofox said.

"Form GA-989. Income Earned by Slaves."

"Oh, of course. State form."

"Stephanie's on a website too. She masturbates while moaning out your IP address," Chantal said. "Want the URL?"

Technofox blinked. She was curious, but she didn't want her notebook's IP address spoken audibly in public. "I'd hate to explain that to the company if they see my browser history."

"That's a good point," Chantal said, with a slight smile. She took out her phone. "Let me send you the URL at least."

"Thanks. So you got Andrew a job?" Technofox asked.

"Maybe. You should kick in," Firefox said. "Get him to take some portraits of you."

"Oh, right," Technofox laughed. "Sure."

"No, really," Firefox protested. "He told me he'd like to take your picture."

"Don't joke about that," Technofox said, hoping Firefox would take the hint. She'd be willing to help pay for a ticket for Andrew, because he was a friend and having him here would make Firefox happy. But she didn't feel comfortable with the pretense. He had the other three for models. He wouldn't want what Technofox saw in the mirror every day. And that didn't bother her.

"I'm serious," Firefox said, her voice steady.

"Umph-hum," Technofox muttered with a frown.

"Guys, give me a hand here," Firefox said, exasperated.

"I could see it," Stephanie said. "You're a very pretty girl, Tech. Work a bit on your hair and you could be a professional."

"You're cute," Chantal said. "If I liked girls I'd give you a tumble."

"I do like girls and I'd give you a tumble," Stephanie said.

"I like girls and we've given each other tumbles," Firefox said. Technofox tried to suppress a smug grin. To be honest, she sort of liked the idea of people knowing she had sex with Firefox.

"So Technofox likes girls?" Stephanie asked Firefox. "Good. That gives me a chance."

"I'm not sure," Firefox said seriously. "Sex with me is beyond gender. Gay men and straight women have both begged me to let them rub their genitals on a napkin I have pressed briefly to my lips. Observe." She pressed a paper napkin briefly to her lips.

"May I rub my genitals with that?" Chantal asked in an awed voice, playing along perfectly.

Indulgently, Firefox passed the napkin over. "Even machine intelligences proposition me. That's how sexy I am. You might not measure up."

"I think this may be too much information," Modesty said.

Stephanie considered a moment, and smiled, shaking her head. "You win," she said.

"Thank you," Technofox said. Stephanie shrugged, took another burger out of the bucket and unwrapped it. It was nice that they'd all fib to make her feel better, though.

"My only worry is that he is a friend of yours," Stephanie said. "Can he get a look like this out of women he doesn't know?"

"I think so," Firefox said. "He took some pictures of me before we got to know one another." Technofox noticed that Firefox didn't mention those pictures had been with her. Technofox didn't say anything, but she was dubious -- she had seen his work with human models. Stiff, impersonal, none of the impact she saw in his pictures of Firefox and the others.

But she was right -- the pictures he had taken of Firefox were beautiful.

"I'm kind of worried about the cost," Stephanie said. "I can probably talk my owners into paying a few hundred, for advertising and good will with my clients. But just flying him down is going to cost -- what, five hundred?"

"Four hundred fifty, about," Technofox replied immediately.

"And then he has to pay for a hotel. Even a fleabag runs eighty a night. Standard meal allowance is fifty a day. If we have him down for ten days, that's seventeen hundred bucks just for his expenses. You have to figure he wants at least one hundred a day, and I don't think we can scare up ... that much."

"He he can drive down," Firefox said. Technofox blinked. Andrew didn't have a car, and Firefox knew that. "We've got two bedrooms," Firefox continued. Technofox's spirits drooped. She didn't blame Firefox for wanting to spend some time with Andrew -- but it was obvious that they'd occupy the main bedroom, and that depressed her. She knew she shouldn't be jealous of Andrew -- it was a complicated situation -- but it would have felt nice if Technofox were enough for her.

Stephanie looked thoughtful. "And we're housekeepers," she said. "Think he'd take home cooked meals as part of his payment?"

Firefox lifted her eyebrows. "He's a bachelor. He'd consider that a perk."

Stephanie drummed her fingers on the table. "This could be doable," she admitted. "I'll ask around."

"I like the idea," Chantal said. "Pooling our resources to get some nice pictures made."

"Modesty," Stephanie said, "I assume you're not interested."

"Nah, what would I do with them? Technofox," Modesty asked slowly, "remember that home network glitch I mentioned to you?"

Technofox looked over at her. "Was that with the wireless part of your sound system?" Modesty hadn't mentioned a problem.

"That's right."

"Oh, yeah. Chili, I think it's the same problem Milton was having, the day we flew out."

"You better look into it, then," Firefox said abstractly. She looked at Technofox. "I'm sure you'll work it out."

"Won't be but a minute," Technofox said brightly, following Modesty out the door.

Modesty's apartment was a two-bedroom. The door in led to a corridor that ran past a kitchen going one way and past a washer and drier in the other.

"Will you help me run?" Modesty asked.

"Yes," Technofox replied immediately. "Are you sure you want to?"

Modesty looked at her. "I don't know," she admitted. She waved a hand around the apartment. "I used to be self-owning. I worked retail, nothing impressive. But this is all I've done for the last few years. I've taken care of myself before, but I've never lived underground."

"We can't guarantee you a job," Technofox said. "If you end up hooking, you might be better off staying here. Being one man's mistress is easier than that."

"I know," Modesty replied. She looked around, chewing her lower lip. "But even then, I'd have choice."

"The police in Boston don't spend time looking for escaped slaves," Technofox said. "In fact, by Massachusetts law they're not allowed to. Dred Scott was overturned some time ago and a state isn't obligated to look for a runaway. Just being an escaped slave in Massachusetts isn't illegal -- but if you're arrested for something else they have to send you to Georgia because of the prior claim. So don't think about going to Massachusetts if you're planning on making a living illegally."

"You've done this before."

"Only theoretically."

"Let's sit down. Would you like a coffee or anything?" Modesty asked.

"Thanks, a coffee would be nice." Technofox parked herself on a couch, and immediately wondered if Modesty would take that the wrong way. She should have chosen an armchair.

"I'd like to own myself again," Modesty said. "But that'll never happen if I run."

"Will it happen if you don't?" Technofox asked, surprised. Modesty was bustling in the kitchen. Water gurgled out of a jug; a coffee grinder whined.

Modesty came out of the kitchen. The smell of coffee drifted out after her. "Maybe. I've got some money. When I'm alone here, I work in a bar part time. So I've got some income."

"Is it legally yours?"

"Not really," Modesty said. "I can't open up a bank account or anything without the owner's consent, and it's all in cash. Technically, it's owned by my owner, but he doesn't know it exists."

"That's good," Technofox said. She almost asked how much Modesty had, but it was none of Technofox's business. Worse, a question like that might be misunderstood. Almost instinctively, Technofox realized that Modesty had to be suspicious of her. Was this how Blue Diamond got some of its women? Possibly.

Modesty looked uncomfortable. "Yes ... but I'm not sure how much Mark wants for me. We haven't spoken about it." She sat down in an armchair facing Technofox. "But the problem is that if I take my nest egg and run North, the law might not let me stay there."

"If you want to stay legal, you could go up to Canada. Slavery's been outlawed there for over two centuries, so they have tradition on their side. On the down side, the unfinished business in Europe means the Commonwealth is stretched to the limit. On the up side, that means they care less about whether a new pair of hands has fur on them." Technofox considered. "It's not a great life up there. Not even for humans. They're still rationing."

"Better than what I've got here," Modesty said.

Technofox looked around at the comfortable apartment. It wasn't that important. "Yes," she agreed.

"That might be the way to go. How could I get past the border?"

"You tell Canadian Customs you're an escaped slave. Then you automatically get refugee status, which lets you stay in the camps. You probably don't want that permanently, so you can sign up for two years with the Labour Battalion and get out as a legal resident with a ration card. US Customs doesn't check people leaving the US. They don't even keep records of emigrants."

Modesty looked at her. "After that, I'd be a legal Resident, but not a citizen?"

"For that you need to join the Armed Forces. And unless you've got skills that keep you out of the infantry, you don't want to risk that. There's no shooting war underway, but that could change overnight. You'd be a Canadian chimera under British command, and you can't get more expendable than that."

Modesty grinned. "You've thought this over, haven't you?"

"Naturally," Technofox said steadily. "I'm comfortable, but it's always smart to have a plan in place. If things get hot for me down here for some reason, I'll be signing up within a week. The Royal Canadian Navy's hurting for computer engineers."

"Uhm," Modesty considered. "When do you think we can go?"

"I don't know. Could be tomorrow. Probably won't be. Network engineers have interesting lives." That would be a problem -- if her owner attacked her in the next few days ... "And I'm not sure how, exactly, you'll be traveling."

"I can drive."

"That's good. We have a car."

"I can't get into an airport in Georgia. And a bus is almost as bad."

"By car, then." The coffee maker was making sounds and wafting delicious coffee smells over the apartment.

"Yes ..." Modesty said slowly. "But --"

The door opened. There wasn't anything hesitant about it, no warning knock; the door swung open smoothly and silently and unexpectedly. Technofox's hackles rose. There was an overwhelming sense of invasion, as though they had an expectation of privacy which had just been dashed.

He was in his forties, balding, and squat. He was about the size of both Technofox and Modesty put together.

"Afternoon, Modesty," he said. "Who's your friend?"

Modesty was standing very still; she had come to her feet. "Mister Henderson," she said. "This is Technofox."

"Pleased to meet you, Technofox," he said. He walked over and put out his hand. Zombie-like, Technofox put out hers. He took it and shook firmly.

"I didn't prepare lunch, sir," Modesty said. "But I can--"

"That's okay," he said amiably. "I had lunch. I just came to get some documents off the home system. This morning I said dinner at six. I'd've called if I needed lunch." He looked at his watch. "You probably didn't see my email yet -- don't bother with a dinner for me this evening. I'm taking a client out and I probably won't be back till late. If you've started cooking, invite a friend over."

"Yes, sir." Modesty hesitated. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Thank you, in the travel mug," he said, heading over to a workstation in the corner and bringing the machine to life. He fished in a pocket and took out a data key as Modesty scurried into the kitchen. Technofox swallowed. Modesty was just a few steps away but she still felt anxious with nobody between her and a man like that.

"I'm sorry, Technofox, was it?" he asked, looking at her.

"Uh, yes."

"My name's Mark Henderson. I haven't seen you around here before."

"I'm a computer network consultant," Technofox said. "I work out of Houston." Modesty glanced at her for a moment. Technofox saw no harm in confusing the issue when he started to look for her.

"Nice city?"

"The science museum has a great malacology exhibit," Technofox said, describing her strongest impression of Houston, aside from ziplining out of a hotel window, which was not an anecdote one shared with a stranger.

"Is that a fact?" he asked, nonplussed.

His computer woke up; it must have been hibernating. He turned and tapped in his password; obviously uninterested in pursuing the conversation. Malacology usually had that effect on people. He plugged his key in, and opened the GUI file handling utility, instead of dropping to a command line. Technofox rolled her eyes in contempt.

"Coffee, sir," Modesty said.

"Thanks, hon," he replied, taking it from her. She skipped away before he could touch her. He took a step in Modesty's direction. Technofox moved her hand towards her gun.

He turned back to the computer; the copy was finished. He pulled out the data key. She forced her hand away from the gun. Stupid. He wasn't going to grab Modesty and rape her in front of a witness, not even another chimera. He juggled the key and coffee, putting the key in his pocket and switching the coffee to his left hand.

"Goodbye, Technofox," he said. "It's always nice to meet Modesty's friends."

Technofox looked at him uncertainly. It sounded like it might be a sleazy come-on, but she wasn't sure if he meant it that way. Of course, that was the problem with flirting: it usually started off sounding innocent, so if it elicited a strong rebuff it would be possible to backtrack and feign disinterest. This wasn't Blue Diamond, where it was a given. But no -- that made no sense; he was heading to the door, and even if Technofox had been receptive, he obviously had his mind elsewhere.

He left, closing the door behind him. The next sound was Modesty, exhaling in a long sigh of released tension.

"I'm good for tonight, then," she said. "I'll just pretend to be asleep when he gets home. He probably won't wake me up."

And that seemed remarkably thoughtful of a rapist.

"And then he took Technofox's coffee," Modesty finished.

"That's low," Stephanie muttered. Technofox looked up briefly, but her notebook flashed a security alert and that distracted her.

Someone had tried to access her notebook while she was gone. Silently, without betraying her worries, she drilled down for details. The attempt had used the same string for the user name and password: "qdlin."

She grimaced, vaguely amused. Pathetic.

Technofox closed the security alert. She doubted anyone else had seen it.

Records showed there were three other potential witnesses to Odenberg's dance: a college student from Illinois, a software developer in Mumbai, and the manager of a fast food restaurant in Syracuse. Technofox brought up their dossiers, and as she expected, nothing bubbled out tying them to organized crime.

She set up a search for first order contacts, but did it with the leaden certainty that it was a waste of time and resources. She wondered if she was making the request because it gave the illusion of progress.

Well. no. She was doing it because it might turn up something, and if she neglected this obvious and important step she'd feel like an idiot.

Technofox pursed her lips and shook her head. It was all well and good to be thorough, but she didn't believe anything would come from this. And there was still no activity in his apartment, although the bugs were working smoothly.

"Not going well, hon?" Stephanie asked, a look of mild concern on her face.

Technofox jumped inside and blinked. "No, not really. Chili, I think we need to go back to the work site."

"TX3 and HI1 still refusing to handshake?" Firefox asked. She was supposed to be Technofox's assistant network engineer, Technofox reminded herself. "I heard something about HI1 -- HI1 used to be part of the secure node."

"Really? Technofox asked. She looked up, and took off her glasses. "If someone forgot to scrub SecureLink..."

"Wouldn't that throw a security refusal?" Firefox asked. "We'd see it."

"Not SecureLink," Technofox said. "if an unauthorized box tried to access the server, it throws random errors so you don't even know you've hit a secure box."

"Huh." Firefox said.

"So we need to go there for physical access to the box."

"Swell," Firefox griped.

The whole exchange was improv theater, of course, so the other women at the table would vaguely remember how they had spoken about network issues and give weak collaboration to their cover story.

Stephanie waited until she was sure the net-speak had died down. "I'll do a whip-around and see what sort of budget we're working with. Can you come back with his asking price?"

"What sort of budget are we talking about, ballpark?" Firefox asked.

Stephanie grinned. "Think I'll tell his girlfriend?"

The foxes went down to the apartment, where Firefox grabbed an empty laptop case and followed Technofox to the garage. They buckled into the car.

"Where to?" Firefox asked.

"Anywhere, as long as we're out for an hour or two," Technofox said.

Firefox grinned. "Fernback Museum of Natural History it is."

Technofox laughed, and punched the name into the navigation computer. "You're too good for me."

"No I'm not," Firefox said.

Technofox frowned at the results. It was clear across Atlanta. "No, it's too far away for a two hour trip. I'll just drive around for a bit." Impulsively, she turned south, and then right on Riverdale.

"What's this about?" Firefox asked.

"Someone tried to log into my notebook while I was away," Technofox said.

Firefox muttered a curse. "I didn't see anything, but I wasn't there every moment."

"Not a worry," Technofox said smugly. "They didn't get in, and I know who did it."

Firefox raised her eyebrows. "Fingerprints?" she guessed. It wasn't easy to identify chimerae by fingerprints; chimera fingertips were either fur or pads; harder and smoother than those of humans, and less oily. Or, chimerae could type with claw tips and avoid touching the keys with flesh entirely. Still, it wasn't impossible to get a fingerprint from something a chimera had touched.

"No. Suppose you've got a chance to enter a computer," Technofox said. "It's an opportunistic hack, you don't have much time, and nothing prepared. You're in a hurry. What user name and password do you try first?"

"Admin / admin," Firefox replied immediately.

"Exactly. Unless you're on a North American QWERTY keyboard layout and you're used to touch-typing on a French AZERTY keyboard," Technofox said. "Then you would type 'q-d-l-i-n.'"

Firefox grinned. "Chantal, then?"

"I'd bet on it. Remember, she also tried to get me to open a site that would read my IP address out loud."

"Yes," Firefox agreed, shifting in the passenger seat. "So she knows we're agents, and she's curious."

"Maybe not," Technofox said immediately. "She's certainly curious, but we don't know if this was professional interest, or random. Heck, maybe she wanted to play Solitaire. It's a bit like finding your neighbor left their front door unlocked."

Firefox snorted. "Pretty unlikely. But not impossible." Riverdale curved north, and Technofox turned right onto Herschel.

"Her owner's almost certainly involved," Firefox said. "French businessman with a chimera mistress? Not a bad cover for an agent. We better tell ICON."

"Let's not be hasty. French might mean Vichy or Resistance."

"It doesn't make a difference to ICON or the FBI."

"It makes a difference to me," Technofox said.

Firefox shrugged impatiently. "Fine, we can donate to a Free French cover organization. But we're not deliberately withholding information from ICON."

Technofox chewed her lip. It was a subject she cared more about than the others did. "Are you going to tell ICON about Modesty?"

"A runaway slave isn't a foreign intelligence agent," Firefox said.

Technofox couldn't reply to that. Firefox was right. Even if Chantal were with the Resistance, there was no real guarantee she would stay there. A chimera in Chantal's position might have more immediate concerns than human politics.

Technofox followed a sign to a park -- she felt like walking. "Mind if we stop here?" she asked.

Technofox shut the car down and they got out, walking to a bench. Silently, Technofox sat down, and Firefox sat next to her.

"Look," Firefox sighed, "You know and I know that the US isn't exactly neutral. We've got garrison troops covering for the Brits in Iceland and our Navy's helping to track U-Boats. Cripes, half the RAF was built by Lockheed."

"North American / Grumman," Technofox corrected her.

"Whatever. If Chantal and her owner are with DeGaulle, there's a good chance that the FBI will turn a blind eye to it."

"Probably," Technofox agreed, reluctantly.

"You remember that Hungarian guy who turned out to be with British Intelligence? They just wanted to make sure he wasn't with the Arrow Cross."

"I remember. Were we working for the US Government there?" That was surprising.

"Indirectly. It was an FBI contract."

"I'm glad to hear that," Technofox admitted. "I've always wondered if we fingered him for the Nazis."

"Not likely," Firefox said with a chuckle. "I've got my limits. So, what did Modesty tell you?"

"She wants to run. Probably Canada."

Firefox laughed. "You talked her into your ICON sellout doomsday scenario?" she asked.

"It seems applicable," Technofox said. "She's been self-owning. She got screwed over. She needs a fresh start."

"Okay, then we drive her to Boston."

"It's not quite that easy. We need to establish plausible deniability. If we leave Atlanta at the same time Modesty vanishes, somebody will notice that and follow up. And then if the car's a rental, they'll track us with the transponder. They might even get us before we're out of the state. So, we'd have to sneak the transponder onto an interstate truck --"

"Right. Cheshire does a daily head count of chimerae with absentee owners. It's part of her job."

"Think she'd work with us?" Technofox asked hesitantly.

"I'd rather not rely on her," Firefox said. "She's not bad, but she's not good either."

"No," Technofox agreed. "Well, let's think this through. It's all timing. Modesty can leave before us, with us, or after us."

"Logical."

"With us is bad because it links us to her. Not only does it risk us, it risks her, because she could be traced through us."

"Right," Firefox nodded.

"After us is not good, because she's at risk." She hesitated. "From her owner's point of view, it might make sense to rape her the last day he's here. It would give her time to get over it before he came back."

"And we want to avoid that, if possible," Firefox said lazily.

Technofox looked at her. There was just a touch of bemusement in her voice that didn't sit well with Technofox, as though Firefox didn't quite take this seriously. Which, she realized, had to be wrong.

"So that means she needs to leave before we do," Technofox finished.

"She has a valid driver's license," Firefox said, now grinning.

Technofox grinned back. Obviously, Firefox was a step ahead of her. "And no doubt you have a plan already?"

"Andrew drives down here with our car to take pictures," Firefox said. "Modesty takes the car keys and drives herself to Boston. She stays in his apartment until we come back. We then work out the details of the border crossing."

"His apartment? Not ours?"

"The one with the guns and expensive spy equipment?" Firefox asked.

"Oh, yeah," Technofox admitted, feeling foolish.

"Then it's just a matter of getting Andrew back to Boston. That's easy. We decide to drive back up in a rental car. Cheaper than four plane tickets."

"There's a hole in the plan," Technofox said immediately. "How did our car get back to Boston? An investigator will pick up on that."

"Right, that's a problem. What do you think?"

Technofox mused for a minute. "Well, it's not a problem unless they investigate us in connection with Modesty's disappearance."

"There's that."

"But I don't like it. We need to have a cover." She rubbed her chin. "You know, the anti-theft transponder in our car isn't strictly speaking a transponder."

"No?"

"No. It works out its position with a GPS fix and periodically transmits it."

"And I assume you can program it to lie about its location."

"Better -- we can use my laptop to pretend to be our car. When Modesty drives up to Boston, as far as the transponder records are concerned it'll be sitting in the garage under us. When we take the rental car back, it'll say that it's driving with us."

"So why are we taking two cars back?"

"There's five of us. Our car seats four. And we've got luggage, and Andrew has his camera equipment."

Firefox grinned. "It'll be a cramped ride back."

"Yes."

"What about traffic cameras, eye witnesses, and so on?"

"That shouldn't be a problem unless Modesty gets pulled over or something stupid like that. Sure, someone might be able to spot our car on a security camera -- but they probably won't look, as long as the transponder data is consistent with police records."

"The only problem is trusting Modesty with the car."

"I'll set it to send its location to me instead of the alarm company," Technofox said immediately. "If she strays more than a few kilometers off the course we give her, an alarm goes off and we report the car stolen."

"Why didn't we report the car stolen before that?" Firefox asked.

"We're not using it to drive around Atlanta," Technofox explained. "Why put wear on it as long as we have the company's car? Yes," Technofox said, thinking, "that story will hold together."

"Thanks," Firefox said. "As long as she doesn't get pulled over by the cops in a slave state it'll work, and if it doesn't work, we're covered." She hesitated. "I don't like the fact she's taking all the risk."

"She's getting all the benefit," Technofox pointed out.

"True."

"I'm not sure how ICON will react."

"I don't think they'd really care, although they just might toss us to the wolves to cover themselves. It would be easier if we could pass this off as part of the 7.62 op," Firefox said. "If you can think of a way to make Modesty a valuable witness or something, that would be great."

Technofox nodded dubiously. "That would be good," she agreed. "I can't see how to pull it off."

"It's not essential." Firefox looked at Technofox steadily. "Did you meet her owner?"

"Yes."

"What's your take?"

Technofox hesitated. "I don't know if I'm reading him right. You know I never could read people very well."

"I don't think that's really true. I just want your impression."

Technofox scratched the back of her head. "You know how with some clients, right away they look at your breasts and you know they're thinking about putting it into you, that every word they say is just a preamble to that? That they're not really hearing you, they're just marking time until you're naked?"

"Like that?"

"Exactly not like that," Technofox admitted. "It was ... well, normal. I mean... I'd bet he'd sleep with me if he had the chance, but there was nothing sleazy about him. He was sort of, hi, nice to meet you, just came here for some files, don't worry about dinner tonight, thanks for the coffee, goodbye."

"Really," Firefox said, looking off into the distance.

"Of course, this was in front of me, and he doesn't know me," Technofox muttered, reluctantly. She hesitated ... "Except..." she trailed off.

"Except what?" Firefox asked. There was something sharp in her tone, and Technofox looked at her, rattled. Firefox's expression softened. "Tech, if something doesn't smell right to you, I want to hear about it, even if it doesn't make sense."

Encouraged, Technofox nodded. "In the lounge, she said that he took my coffee."

"Right."

"But he didn't know it was my coffee." Technofox shook her head. "She made me some coffee. He came in. He was in a rush to get some files."

"That's weird. Why didn't he just access them remotely?"

"I thought of that, but it's not unusual for a broker. They're very, very strict on security. Some of them don't even use email. It's to protect themselves in case they're sued."

Firefox considered, and nodded. "Fine."

"And she offered him the coffee, without mentioning that it was for me, and he accepted."

"If he dropped in unexpectedly, didn't he find it strange there was some coffee ready?"

"Maybe, but who thinks that hard about a cup of coffee?" Technofox asked. "She made it sound like he said 'Give me her coffee or taste the lash, you miserable bitch,' and I thought it was more her thinking, 'He's in a rush, and I can make Technofox another cup later.' Honestly, I didn't think there was anything off about it at all."

Firefox nodded.

"But sometimes in Blue Diamond I'd get so afraid...." Technofox said. She swallowed deeply, and she couldn't meet Firefox's eyes. She went on in lower tones. "So afraid that I'd go along with whatever was happening, and ..."

"And maybe someone looking in would think you were consenting," Firefox said flatly.

Technofox nodded, wordlessly.

Firefox put an arm around her and squeezed her tight. Technofox closed her eyes and savored the sweet pressure of Firefox's arm.

"There's a point," Firefox said hesitantly, "there's a point they push you to where you find yourself co-operating. I'm not denying that. But I wonder what really happened here."

Technofox looked at her. "Cheshire said that he got excited when she slapped Modestry around."

"No, she said he came quickly when she gave him oral sex," Firefox reminded her. "Is that really surprising?"

"Cheshire said he was going to rape her."

"Cheshire is not a mind reader. Cheshire is an overseer from a slave brothel. What does she know about the way normal people act? Most women aren't forced to have sex as part of their career."

"She hasn't always been in the business of sexual exploitation," Technofox pointed out. "She..." her voice died out.

"Used to work in Hollywood," Firefox finished for her.

"Okay," Technofox muttered grumpily. "I'll give you that."

"Did Modesty ever tell him she wasn't interested? Or was she afraid to?"

"Modesty isn't stupid."

"She doesn't have to be," Firefox snapped. "Far from it. There's nothing silly or paranoid about her thinking he's going to attack her. She might be right. But she might be wrong."

"Fine. Suppose she's wrong. So what?"

Firefox looked troubled, so Technofox pushed harder. "She's a slave, she feels threatened, it's a credible threat, she's asked for help."

"Good point," Firefox admitted. "So, we have to make sure Andrew has access to our apartment. He's got the key you gave him. Did you add any extra security I might have forgotten about?"

"The apartment will send everyone a text message when he goes in," Technofox said. "At least one of us needs to respond saying the entry was authorized within one day of getting the message, or building security gets alerted."

Firefox nodded. "Good. I'm not thrilled about using him this way, but at least he'll get some work out of it."

"You're not using him; he's doing something he wants to do," Technofox said. And then, "That's why I like him."

Firefox smiled, and remembered. "I suppose that's true," she said.

"And I thought you were just lonely for him." Technofox felt her spirits lift.

"Are you jealous of him?" Firefox asked, surprised.

"No," Technofox lied.

"Well, I miss him of course," Firefox said, "and I wish I had more time with him," she grinned and squeezed Technofox's hand. "but I enjoy being with you, Tech."

"That's nice of you to say."

"I mean it," Firefox said. "You're really something special, you know. And it's more than just the fact we're friends. I want to show you off. I want to go out with you somewhere, jump up on a table, point at you and tell the world I'm taking you home with me. 'See this chick?' I want to tell them; 'I get to fuck her. Eat your hearts out.'"

Technofox's face was hot and she giggled like a schoolgirl.

Firefox was beautiful, heart-break beautiful. Her shirt outlined her breasts, and Technofox remembered how they had looked and felt and tasted, moving under her on their bed.

Technofox glanced around to make sure there was nobody within earshot. "I'm looking forward to tonight," Technofox said softly.

"Tonight," Firefox repeated, bleakly. She smiled. "Yes, tonight."

"What's wrong?" Technofox asked, suddenly suspicious and jealous at once.

"Hey, ice cream," Firefox said, pointing. "I'll treat you."

Firefox jumped up and Technofox ran after her; not fooled or distracted as much as she was desperate to pretend she was distracted, to pretend there was nothing wrong, to pretend she didn't know what it was.

Technofox closed the door behind them.

"Any alerts?" Firefox asked.

"Nothing," Technofox said.

Firefox turned and looked at her curiously. Technofox impulsively reached out to the catch at Firefox's throat. Firefox stood still as Technofox opened it.

The shirt relaxed, and Firefox's breasts spilled out. Without a word, Technofox put out her tongue and ran it lightly over Firefox's nipple. It responded, becoming slightly stiffer under her taste.

She knew that it wasn't right, that she should get permission, that she should start with her face and lips and muzzle instead of going right for the nipple, as though Firefox were a Blue Diamond Girl and Technofox the client. But there was something irresistable in doing this, something other than the thrill of sex or even love. It was the excitement of ownership.

"She knows what she likes," Firefox whispered softly, and Technofox felt relief flood over her. Firefox took her in her arms, held her lightly to her breast, tightly enough so Technofox knew she was welcome, not so tightly as to hold her there.

"I want this," Firefox said softly. "But I thought with me and Shadow in the morning you'd be all worn out."

"You knew about me and Shadow this morning?" Technofox asked.

"For sure? Not until just now," Firefox said lightly, reaching down and tapping Technofox's nose playfully. "Well, not really -- she sent me an email this morning saying she wanted some time alone with you."

"She did?" Technofox asked, surprised. "Why?"

"Because she likes screwing you almost as much as I do," Firefox grinned impishly. She closed her eyes and licked Technofox's muzzle.

Technofox lifted her head and kissed her, lightly at first, and then more deeply, turning it into a mutual, open mouthed kiss. Their tongues touched and danced, coming apart and then going back together again. Technofox's hand played with Firefox's breast, moving its heavy weight, stroking her nipple with her thumb. Her claw would catch against the delicate flesh and she'd feel Firefox respond, holding her tighter, her body tensing with the pleasure of it.

"She says you gives her what she likes," Firefox said softly. "My problem is that when she starts working on me, I just can't keep my hands off her."

"I guess I don't have much of a libido," Technofox said.

"Said by the girl who doesn't get worn out." Firefox kissed her again. "We need to keep an eye on the clock."

"Crud," Technofox muttered. "Why?"

"Cheshire's coming over for dinner," Firefox said. "At nineteen hundred."

"Oh."

"If you're not up to seeing her, that's okay," Firefox said.

"No, I'm okay with her," Technofox said. "Did you arrange for anything yet?"

"Not yet."

"I should have something delivered," Technofox said. Reluctantly, she disentangled herself. "Don't move," she ordered. She scuttled off, Firefox looking after her, with mild bemusement.

Cheshire bit into an shrimp roll, her eyes closed in bliss, and washed it down with a gulp of egg drop soup.

"I've always liked the Szechuan Banquet," she said. "You'd think they'd skimp on the meat, but they don't."

"These aren't expensive cuts," Technofox said around a mouthful of pork, "but I know what you mean. I've had takeout shrimp rolls that were more roll than shrimp."

Cheshire chuckled. "At Golden Dragon I think they just wave a prawn at the shrimp rolls before frying them."

"I thought this was from Golden Dragon," Firefox said.

"No, it's from Gilded Dragon," Technofox corrected her. "Totally different place."

"I think there are laws about what you can name a Chinese restaurant, or something," Cheshire reflected. "It's the only explanation that makes sense."

"Cheshire, I'm wondering why you never told me your old boyfriend was in town," Firefox said casually. Technofox froze.

Cheshire looked away for a moment and looked back, with a grin. "Same old Firefox," she said. "Some girls lick around a bit, some girls dive straight for the clit."

Firefox swallowed a chunk of General Tso's Chicken. "Tigre complained about that once," she said. "What did Tigre talk about with you, Cheshire? The best places to hit girls so they'll feel it?"

"Do we have to talk about Blue Diamond?" Cheshire asked.

"Why not talk about Blue Diamond?" Firefox asked. "It's a shared experience."

Cheshire started to stand up. "I'm leaving." She reached for her cane.

Firefox kicked, once, hooking with her toes. The cane flew across the room, hitting the wall and dropping to the floor. Perhaps because of the surprise, Cheshire's knee gave out, and she dropped heavily back into her chair.

"Did you know there's a price on your head, Cheshire?" Firefox asked. "And a price on your ears, and your tail? Some of the women from Blue Diamond have money, and I guess it's not possible to make a living overseeing sex slaves without a few grudges coming out of it. Funny how some people hold grudges. The kind of grudge that doesn't want you quietly dead, the kind of grudge that wants you bleeding and hurting."

"I know that," Cheshire said.

"Now, even if nothing happens to you, if someone were to spam your name and location across the web, you'd need to take some precautions, wouldn't you?" Firefox asked. "The obvious one is to take advantage of building security. No more having a friend drive you down to the airport to look at the planes taking off and landing, to wonder where they're going, to talk about where you'd like to go."

Through that, Cheshire's expression changed from mild fear to one of ... violation.

"Silverfox," Cheshire said, dully.

"Silverfox has more kills than the rest of us put together," Firefox said.

"...Yes, I believe you."

Something in her voice cut through to Firefox. "She likes you, Cheshire. Sincerely. But she likes me more."

"Oh."

"But let's not talk about that. Let's talk about Blue Diamond. One of the things I remember about Blue Diamond is learning how people will do things they don't want to do to prevent something worse," Firefox said. "So sit down, Cheshire, and enjoy your fried rice."

"You two owe me," Cheshire hissed.

Firefox looked up. "Yes," Firefox agreed. "I owe you. You never fucked me for the fun of fucking me; it was always a show for a client. And I appreciate that. You're a lady, Cheshire. As fine a piece of whorehouse nobility as ever helped a man rape me."

"I didn't have a choice," Cheshire said. "Any more than you had a choice when Tigre decided you were her pet."

Technofox shuddered.

"Girlfriend," Firefox corrected, her voice steady. "But there's always a choice, isn't there? Always a line you can draw. People draw that line in different places. You were better than Lilith, I think. She wallowed in cruelty. You drew the line at actually having fun yourself. But me, I draw that line short of carrying a whip and using it on other slaves. And like it or not, that makes me cleaner than you."

"I won't deny that," Cheshire said softly.

"Good," Firefox said abstractly. "But you know what I really owe you for, Cheshire? You gave me one last chance to give up. You let me pretend I was doing something reasonable instead of something I didn't want to do. That's what I owe you in return. That's why we're having this conversation right now." She took a deep sip of tea. "You know, this tea's good, but I always think it tastes better coming oput of a white ceramic teapot. Wish we had a white ceramic teapot."

Technofox looked at Cheshire impassively. She wasn't surprised to hear that Cheshire had done the same sort of thing to Firefox. She was feeling conflicted -- backing Firefox was almost instinctive, but at the same time Cheshire had been...

...Had been, well, not good, but as good as she could be.

"Are you dating him still, Cheshire?" Firefox asked affably. "Do you get him off yourself, or do you still bring him women?"

"I sleep with him," Cheshire admitted.

"Interesting. So he can finally get it up without watching a woman scream first? Congratulations. You're good at your job. But you put on a show for him with Stephanie, didn't you?"

"...Yes," Cheshire admitted. "He thought it was real. It was set up. I have a slapstick cane -- it sounds like a real blow but it isn't."

"Good," Firefox said. "I believe you. Does Morgan know?

"He knows I'm Walton's mistress," Cheshire said. "He doesn't know about Stephanie."

"That fits," Firefox agreed.

"What do you want?" Cheshire asked tonelessly.

"Ah," Firefox grinned brightly. "Now we can have a conversation. I want you to reintroduce me to Walton."

"What?" Technofox gasped.

Firefox and Cheshire both looked at her; Cheshire with surprise, Firefox with irritation. Technofox swallowed. She knew she had to stand with Firefox; they had to present a united front, giving no hint of a crack that Cheshire or any other outsider could exploit. Still, her visceral reaction was impossible to suppress. Technofox swallowed again, and used her form to move her fried rice.

Technofox looked up, uncertainly, as though she hadn't heard Firefox properly. No, she hadn't. She had just heard Firefox say that she was going to try to seduce Walton. And that couldn't be right. There was no universe where Firefox would willingly go back to Walton.

"He'll never believe it," Cheshire stammered out.

"Yes he will," Firefox said calmly. "You see, all this time since Blue Diamond, my life has been lacking something. Seeing him reminded what it was: a strong hand on my leash, my master's seed warm inside me. It's what he designed me for." Firefox grinned. "You told me how important it was to become the woman he wants, Cheshire. You can't do that, but I can. That's why you asked for me for him, isn't it?"

Cheshire looked at her, bleakly, and then at Technofox. "How did you know?"

"The logic of the situation," Firefox said. "You worked for Blue Diamond, Blue Diamond assigned you to him." Firefox held up one hand, two fingers pressed together. "And you two are like that. A good, solid, client / vendor relationship. So good that it survived a change of employer on your part. It's hard for me to believe that you didn't choose his women personally."

"Tigre suggested it originally," Cheshire said nervously. "She said that he seemed attracted to you. And he had an interest in your model, specifically."

"I'm trying very hard not to take any of this personally," Firefox replied. "I'm perfectly willing to let this go."

"I don't want to be a part of this," Cheshire said. "Look, for God's sake, I'm begging here. Do what you want, fine, but don't bring me into this. Whatever you want to do is fine with me. But don't involve me."

"I promise you nothing will happen in Atlanta," Firefox said. "Work with me and nothing will happen here."

"Can I trust you?" Cheshire asked.

"You don't have a choice."

"I never do."

"Spare me."

"All right," Cheshire said. "I'll tell him you've dropped some hints."

Technofox cleaned the table silently and started the dishwasher before she said anything.

"You can't do this," she whispered.

Firefox's eyes held pain and shame, and Technofox knew she had heard her. "Don't say that," Firefox said. "It's hard enough already."

"Then why do it?" Technofox asked, suddenly angry. There was, she had to admit, an element of selfishness in it -- but overwhelming it was horror at the idea his hands would be on her again, that he'd be inside Firefox again.

"Because it gives me a lever," Firefox said. "If I give him a good time, I can get access to him. I can get him to meet me in a given city at a given time." She nodded. "Better, he's going to keep this a secret. Yes, this makes any possible plan a lot easier."

"No, not like this --" Technofox hesitated. "You need to hold him at arm's length, because his girlfriends are going to be investigated."

"You're rationalizing," Firefox accused.

"No," Technofox lied.

"Yes. Listen. It might help, and it can't hurt. You know that I can sell it to him. You know that he needs it to be true. And if we don't need it, there's no harm done."

"It hurts you," Technofox said, her voice shaking. "And it hurts me, because I love you."

"I know. And I love you," Firefox said. "But I have to do this. It's deeper than just love. It's honor. It's respect."

"Why?"

"Because of Shadowfox."

"You're not making sense."

"Because Shadowfox does this every day she works."

"Not with people who raped her," Technofox said.

"Not her, no. If I don't do it, I'm saying she's a whore."

Technofox stared at her. "That's..." she didn't finish her sentence. She wanted to say "true."

"If it's good enough for her, it's good enough for me," Firefox said. "You know there's nothing wrong with what Shadowfox does. She's not disgraced by it."

"Why not?" Technofox asked, giving voice to her question from earlier that day.

"What?" Firefox said, a flicker over her face showing that she was actually angry.

"I'm saying it's not okay for you, and it's not okay for Shadowfox," Technofox blurted out.

Firefox looked at her blankly, her brow contracted into a confused frown.

"But ..." she said, "But Shadowfox has always ..."

"Why?" Technofox asked.

"Why?" Firefox repeated, baffled.

"Would you ask me to screw Walton?" Technofox asked.

"Of course not," Firefox said immediately. "It's disgusting."

"How about Silverfox?"

"I wouldn't ask her to, no."

"Then why is it okay for Shadowfox?"

"It's okay for Shadowfox because it's okay with Shadowfox."

"Isn't that convenient?"

"It's the entire point," Firefox said.

"But what if she can't not consent?"

Firefox looked at her. "That's ridiculous. Are you saying she's a robot?"

"No. If Cheshire picked me instead of you back in Blue Diamond," Technofox said, "I would have liked it, right?"

"No," Firefox said in horror.

"Think, don't feel," Technofox quoted back, sarcastically.

Firefox smiled despite herself. "Yes, physically, but that's because Walton put something in the way our brains worked to make that happen. You know that."

"What if... what if there are other things in our heads?" Technofox asked.

"Like what?" Firefox asked, curiously.

"Like the idea it's okay for Shadowfox," Technofox said. "I think it hurts her, Firefox. I think it hurts her to be used and use people the way she does. I think it hurts her and she can't even talk about it because we all expect it of her. And this -- this thing you want to -- no, not want, this thing you plan to do with Walton -- it's going to sit inside you. And it's going to fester because acts of love are something precious. Something ... holy. And you can't misuse it. It's wrong, and it's wrong for the same reason what they did to us in Blue Diamond was wrong."

"No," Firefox said softly. "What they did to us in Blue Diamond was wrong because they took women and used us against our will. I am consenting to this, because... because Walton is evil, and if this helps us kill him, it's an honorable sacrifice."

"I'm sorry," Technofox whispered.

Firefox stepped over and kissed her gently. She folded Technofox in her arms.

"What you said just now?" Firefox said, "You were wrong. And I love you forever for saying it."

They slept together, chastely. Technofox didn't sleep through the night. She woke periodically, making sure Firefox was still with her. Until she woke, and she was alone, and she knew where Firefox was, and she wept with shame and anger and hate and love.

She woke, alone in the bed. The bed still smelled of Firefox.

It was early in the morning, and the sun was coming in through the window, the open blinds casting shadows like bars. The horror of it made her go to her feet and race to the window, pushing the blinds open. An instant later she pulled her robe closed.

The morning sun was bright. Seven stories down, she could see an aged male human and an Alsatian chimera. They were in jogging gear, and immediately after she registered that fact, she realized it was Travis Walton and Morgan. They were keeping up a good clip for an old man, Morgan obviously holding back to stay with him.

Technofox stared down at Walton. There was a pair of binoculars on a shelf; she took them and focused on him. She stared at his face, and against her will imagined him naked, Firefox bound for him... he looked up, and for an instant, Technofox had the creepy sensation he could see her.

And because of the binoculars, she saw his body jerk suddenly, his eye vanish, his skull deform as the bullet went out the back of his head, leaving an exit wound the size of her fist.