Technofox

Chapter Nine

Written by Nathan Cowen

Copyright © 2008 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.

"Was Morgan really in the Tenth Mountain Division?" Firefox asked.

Technofox nodded. "Morgan's no fool. It's risky to lie about public records nowadays, especially to a nerd with a wireless connection in her head. So you don't lie in the information age — you spin."

"He was hoping you wouldn't know the Tenth were alpine troops," Firefox said thoughtfully.

"Alpine and arctic, but I digress. Morgan's not an investigator, but he's a bodyguard and he works for a news publisher, so he has a pretty good idea of what can and can't be confirmed easily." Technofox's ears finished sweeping the apartment. They were alone.

"Did you pull his records yet?"

"On the elevator down."

"You frighten me," Firefox said, with a slight smile. Technofox couldn't help but smile back.

"Fire," Technofox said, "I'm glad you're here."

Firefox took Technofox's hands, and smiled softly. "I'm glad you're here too."

"Because I think we need to go through the garbage," Technofox said. "And it's faster with two."

Firefox pursed her lips. "Our garbage?" she asked, hopefully.

"The building's," Technofox said.

"Oh." Firefox's tail twitched, but she kept her face steady. "Well, if you think it's for the best."

"So get your work gloves and let's hope they haven't removed the trash since the eighth," Technofox said brightly, trying to sound more enthusiastic than she felt.

"Let's hope. At least it's a cheap date," Firefox sighed. She got up off the couch and looked ruefully at a glass of lemonade sitting on the coffee table. "While I find our gloves, tell me about Morgan."

Technofox grinned, and looked at the notes she had made on her implant computer. "He's a military purchase, allocated to the Tenth Mountain Division, assigned as a Squad Support Chimera. Good to above average record, released as damaged surplus six years ago — loss of vision in his left eye due to trauma. He was then bought by Victoria's dad, in Illinois. Illinois isn't a slave state, and doesn't consider chimerae chattel, so the title was converted to a ten-year indenture contract."

"That's standard. A Squad Support Chimera. That puts him right on the front line, doesn't it?" Firefox said in a normal conversational tone, knowing Technofox would hear her with her back turned.

"Climbing mountains with ammunition boxes strapped to his back." Technofox nodded. "He was also a machine gunner."

Firefox went into the master bedroom, still talking casually. "We know Morgan wasn't the shooter, so if he's involved he's logistics. So I'm more interested in the transport part."

"Me too. You ever notice how easy it is to haul bodies around in a movie?" Technofox asked. "Some forty-kilo human woman with arms like matchsticks grabs a hundred kilo bruiser by the jacket, and then they cut to a scene where she's closing a trunk lid on him." Technofox snorted. "It's not that easy. Odenberg was in armor, and with the arctic gear we're talking about —" Technofox checked a note she had made on her implant's memo feature " — twenty to twenty-five kilos of equipment, plus the body. How did 7.62 get that load on the top of the building without being picked up on a security camera?"

"It's not impossible," Firefox said. "Not even for a human acting alone. Firefighters do that."

"Generally, they do not, except in films," Technofox said firmly. "Firefighters have special rescue teams who go in to carry people out. It takes around four to six firemen to get one injured fireman safely out of a building. Even under ideal conditions, stretcher teams have two people. Traditionally, there's six pallbearers. It's very hard to haul unconscious people around. Maybe we didn't pick up on this because we're chimerae, but I don't believe any human would seriously try to carry out a plan that involved lugging a hundred kilos around without help."

"Certainly it wasn't one human working alone," Firefox agreed. "And chimera or not, 7.62 probably had an accomplice to help get Odenberg to the roof. And now you tell me Morgan's got experience hauling heavy things up vertical surfaces." She came out of the bedroom, holding two pairs of gloves. There was a set of work gloves in the standard agent kit kept in the apartment, but their hands were different enough from humans that they needed a special set. "Well, I call that an interesting coincidence."

"What bothers me is the way he didn't want to draw attention to the fact he's a Tenth Mountain vet," Technofox replied. She dropped down on the couch. "That's what really jumped out. Military types typically like to talk about their unit. Just go up to an old man with a PBY cap and ask him about Catalinas. You'll make a friend for life."

"That's true. Still, Morgan was Walton's bodyguard," Firefox said. "He strikes me as very professional. He'd need a pretty good motive to be involved." Then, switching subjects, she said "The trash is probably in the basement, in the parking garage."

"Probably. About Morgan's motive ... I want to say this while we're still alone. You know that Cheshire and Stephanie did a scene for Walton." Technofox lifted a finger. "It wasn't just a bit of dominant role-play. I don't know the details, but I'd guess they faked a beating and rape."

Firefox looked dark for a moment. "So Stephanie knows Walton was a sadist," she agreed.

"And Stephanie and Morgan are lovers," Technofox told her.

Firefox's ears twitched. "Aha."

"So it's not unreasonable she'd tell him," Technofox said.

"No, it's not," Firefox agreed. "It fits. She's a working girl, she assumed I was one too. Stephanie warned us off Walton. She's not going to warn us off a guy who likes to lead a pet around on a leash. She's going to warn us off someone who scared her."

"Someone who might be dangerous," Technofox agreed. "And then there's Victoria. Morgan's known her since she was thirteen. And if Victoria knew about Walton, she might talk about it."

Firefox considered. Firefox knew Victoria better than Technofox did. "She probably doesn't," Firefox said, finally. "Not first hand, anyway." She scratched her head. "I don't think Walton would have his kind of fun with her. He designed us to take abuse and like it. To him, we're not people, we're toys. Cheshire and him could do anything they wanted to me, and it didn't matter, because I got wet and came."

"I ... don't think Cheshire wanted to do any of it," Technofox said.

Firefox looked at her. "That's drifting off the track. Victoria looks too much like a real woman. She's too real to be a fantasy masochist." she muttered. Then, louder, "Besides, if Victoria knew, why wouldn't she go public with it?"

Technofox couldn't think of a reason. "And there's something else Morgan didn't mention."

"What?"

Technofox hesitated. This wouldn't go over well, and Firefox was already upset. "Well, Morgan and I were talking about Walton's, uhm, girlfriends. According to Morgan, they were casual things, or semi-professional. No motive for murder there."

"Which implies Morgan had no idea what those relationships were like," Firefox said.

"Yes, that would indicate Morgan doesn't know Walton's a rapist." Technofox hesitated. "but I think he did know. I don't know how to put this..."

"Spit it out."

"Cheshire and Walton talked about you. Cheshire told me that."

Technofox found it hard to understand why that seemed so horrific. Maybe it was because she couldn't help but imagine Walton in bed with Cheshire, talking about what they had done to Firefox, as though it had been a few pleasant afternoons instead of assaults that should have landed him in prison. Making love to Firefox was a wonderful and precious thing, and Walton had no right to claim it. It reminded her of Lord of the Rings, where Gollum committed murder and theft and later pretended it had been a birthday present. And Cheshire had probably snuggled up to Walton, naked in his bed, and had laughed at his jokes. In Blue Diamond, Cheshire had hit Technofox with a cane more than once, but this seemed worse.

"Right," Firefox said, shortly. She hesitated. "You and I talked about that. I was trying to get closer to Walton. So Morgan thinks I'm Walton's girlfriend. I wonder if that's good or bad."

"Cheshire and Walton knew Morgan would overhear, so according to Cheshire they ... made it sound like it was consensual," Technofox blurted out.

Anger flickered over Firefox. She put it away. "With you so far," she said, pretending she wasn't seething.

"And Morgan heard all that," Technofox shook her head. "He overheard that you and Walton were lovers, but let's say he knew what they were covering up. That means he knows that you three were planning a ... scene."

Firefox looked away. "I wish you wouldn't use a word from Blue Diamond."

"I don't know a better one," Technofox said quietly. "Besides, it fits, doesn't it? Should I call it a date?""

Firefox frowned.

"I can't call it that, because I know it's not something you wanted to do," Technofox said. "Morgan also knew that."

"What makes you think Morgan knew?"

"Simple. Morgan overheard Cheshire and Walton saying that you were Walton's lover. But he didn't bring it up with me."

Firefox snorted. "There's a hundred reasons for that. Maybe Morgan was just being polite. Say he didn't want to gossip about me in front of you. Maybe Morgan knows you and I are lovers and assumes you'd disapprove of my having a fling with Walton."

"I am your lover and I do disapprove," Technofox said clearly.

Firefox tightened her jaw. "So noted. Go on."

Technofox breathed deeply a few times. "Morgan comes across as a gentleman. I think that under normal circumstances, he'd be discreet."

"Like I said."

"But this isn't a cocktail party. Morgan's client was murdered. I am investigating the murder of Morgan's client. We were talking about Walton's lovers. If Morgan thinks you and Walton were lovers — why wouldn't he mention that? To spare me a lover's spat?" She shook her head firmly. "That's a little too delicate, don't you think?"

Firefox considered a moment, anger turning to acceptance. "I see what you mean," Firefox agreed. "He never said anything like, 'Maybe Firefox is the one to ask about Walton's relationships. She was screwing him.'"

"I don't think he'd put it that way..." Technofox hedged.

Firefox laughed sharply. "But you're right, it's ridiculous — too precious by half. So why didn't he bring it up?"

"Because he's a gentleman," Technofox said. "He could skirt around it, pretend not to know about unnamed women, but he couldn't look me in the face and pretend that Walton was your lover," Technofox said. "It's too immediate, too hurtful. Morgan knew what Walton did to you, and he couldn't throw it in my face."

"Ah." Firefox considered and nodded. "Okay, I can see that. So, let's say Morgan's an accomplice. How did Morgan get the body to the roof?"

Technofox smiled. "Let's go to the trash and see. With luck, this isn't garbage day."

They rode the elevator down. Technofox noticed that Firefox was a bit fidgety, as though reluctant and not willing to show it. Technofox felt the same. Picking through garbage was always bad, especially in warm weather. And while Atlanta in February wasn't as bad as New York in August, nor was it cold enough to prevent discarded food from ripening.

They got out at the second level of the underground parking lot. The sun was getting low and while Technofox didn't want to think about dinner, she was starting to get hungry. She'd lose her appetite soon. Trash was usually stored on the highest level of the garage, to make it easier to push the dumpsters out to the street. There were four trash chutes in the building, each emptying into a different storage room, where the garbage was locked away as though someone might steal it. With a sinking heart, Technofox picked the lock to "Trash D". They opened the heavy metal door and threw on the light. Rats vanished into the walls, too fast to see, but enhanced ears could hear the scratches of their claws. There was a smell of bleach, poured in to deal with the worst of the decay and to keep the homeless from looking for food. Which was probably why the door was locked.

Technofox wondered why dumpsters were painted such an ugly shade of green. They were battered, paint flaking from dents. There were four in the room; one open and under the chute; two filled so high they didn't quite close, and one empty, except for bits adhering to the bottom as rot turned to a sort of glue.

"All right," Firefox said reluctantly, "let's empty that one," she pointed "into the empty one."

"Let's try to be a little more scientific," Technofox said. "First, what's the level like in the one under the chute?" She peeked over. "Almost empty. So let's see if we can figure out which of the full ones was under the chute yesterday."

Firefox opened the one she had pointed to. "Here's yesterday's paper," she said, delicately shaking out coffee grounds.

"Perfect," Technofox said, trying to sound cheerful. "Let's start with that."

They moved the entire contents of the dumpster that had been filled the day before into the empty one. Technofox didn't want to think how many kilograms of garbage that was. Like archaeologists digging up a burial mound, every item was scrutinized for indications that they were out of order, which might mean someone had already searched the dumpster. They found nothing.

They then moved to the "Trash C" room. Someone using that chute had a baby and was using disposable diapers, and the plastic bag they were in split open. Other than that they found nothing. In a way, Technofox was glad Silverfox wasn't here: she'd be furious and swearing by now.

In "Trash B," they found what they were looking for.

It was at the bottom of the dumpster, just as Technofox had predicted. It was a heavy black plastic trunk, too big to go through the chutes. At first, only a corner of it showed; but soon they had enough of it uncovered and emptied to convince them they had struck pay dirt. They stood in the dumpster, looked at one another, and although exhausted and messy, smiled triumphantly. "Let's not trouble Bishop with our speculation about the inside guy," Firefox said. "I'd rather we chased that."

"Right," Technofox said with a nod. Bad enough to throw accusations at humans, but Morgan didn't have rights in Georgia.

A janitor came in, a human in overalls. He looked at them, stunned. "What the hell are you girls doing there?" he asked.

"I dropped a quarter down the chute by mistake," Firefox explained. She took out her cell phone and tapped in a few numbers.

The janitor smiled. He had bad teeth. "Guess you can't keep doggies out of the trash," he said. "Now get out of there before I call security."

Technofox's irritation found a target. Before she could say anything, Firefox winked at her. "Hello, police?" she said into her phone. "I'd like to speak with Captain Bishop, please. It's very important ... I don't have his personal number, but could you please tell him that Firefox called, and that we've found Odenberg's coffin in the parking garage of Best Condo? ... Yes, officer, he'll thank you, believe me... Just give him this number. We'll stay on the scene until the forensic team shows up." Firefox looked over at the janitor. "Sir, I have to ask you to leave this room. And when the police show up, you mind pointing them here?"

Perhaps they should have come up with a cover story, but the janitor's expression made it worth it.

Bishop rubbed his chin as crime scene investigators removed the trash from the case with gloves and tweezers, and photographers using film cameras. Technofox had used film cameras on occasion. Film was more likely to be accepted in court than digital images, and the cost of processing a few hundred frames of film was negligible.

"As far as we know for sure, it's just a packing case," Technofox said. It contradicted what Firefox had said on the phone but it was more honest.

Bishop nodded. "Well, that's what the labs are for. Still, it's worth the fuss."

"Notice that ammonia smell?" Firefox asked.

"No," Bishop said, "but I'll take your word for it."

"That's from someone wiping out the inside of the case," Firefox said. "Which means it probably contained something ... organic. Unfortunately, if they went to that much trouble you'll be lucky to find Odenberg's DNA." She shook her head. "They did a good job cleaning Odenberg's apartment, too. Not that we know that, because we just went there to fix a phone."

One of the police wearing a mask and rubber gloves laughed. "Hey, captain, can we buy one of those?" he asked, pointing at Firefox.

"I'll talk to the Inspector," Bishop said. He shook his head ruefully. "Now, I figured that they'd dispose of Odenberg's coffin over with the bulk items, or use a cardboard box and rip it up so we'd never identify it. I didn't think of a trunk buried in the dumpster."

"It's a little short," Technofox said. "It's about 170 centimeters on the inside."

"They probably bent his legs," Bishop said. "See where they took an axe or something to the case, busted the latches so's the case'd look like trash? Other than that, you can tell it's in good shape, though."

"It's a shame," Technofox said. "A packing case this nice costs a few hundred, new."

Bishop laughed. Technofox hadn't intended her observation as a joke, but she guessed it worked as one. "There's no wheels on the case," he said, "so maybe a handcart was used, or two people carried it."

Technofox waited for Firefox to point out the obvious — the case had grips, and a chimera could have carried the case, even laden. Firefox was quiet. Technofox pointed to a label on the case: it read "Delta 2431 JFK-ATL." "Want me to look into that flight?"

Bishop shook his head dismissively. "It's probably a fake, or it's taken from another shipping container. The packing case is way too big to be checked in as standard luggage, but there's no Oversized stickers on it I can see."

"I didn't notice that," Technofox admitted.

"I'll have someone look into it, but I think it's a false trail. We can probably be confident our inside guy didn't come through New York. Officer," he said to a uniform, "go talk to the doormen, security, whoever handles deliveries. They might remember signing for this."

"Inside guy?" Firefox asked abstractly.

Bishop studied her for a moment, perhaps wondering if she was being disingenuous. "Let's say accomplice. I kind of doubt 7.62 hauled Odenberg to the roof, then took the case down to the parking garage, buried the case in the garbage, and finally went back to the roof."

"Probably not," Firefox agreed.

"You girls found this on your own?"

"Yes, sir," Technofox said, acid touching her voice. Firefox glanced at her.

"Damn good catch," he said with a nod.

"Thank you, Captain," Firefox said. Technofox was to stunned to respond politely.

Bishop grinned. "Well, I'll take this off your hands — you girls probably want to get cleaned up." That could have been a rude dismissal, but Technofox didn't get that feeling from him: he seemed honestly concerned. "I'll tell the lab to copy you on the report about the packing case."

"Mister Torrance has been wondering about the autopsy on Odenberg," Firefox said.

"Tell him I haven't forgotten. The ME's taking forever on this one, but she promised me she'd have a cause of death for Odenberg tomorrow before lunch. That probably means lunch in Los Angeles, but when I hear, David will hear. Promise."

That was good news — Technofox had been wondering about that. Firefox nodded. "Thank you sir — you have my number if you want to talk."

"I'll scrub your back if you'll scrub mine," Firefox said, tossing her gloves directly into the washing machine.

"D... Deal," Technofox agreed, and switched back to business. "The problem 7.62 faced was simple. How do you get a hundred kilos of dead weight to the roof of a ten story building without anyone noticing? Now, Morgan can do it so many different ways it's embarrassing. Morgan's a mountain trooper so maybe he hauled Odenberg up the outside of the building. Morgan's involved in building security so maybe he gave 7.62 a passkey, and maybe he's savvy enough to play with the camera logs. Morgan runs errands to the airport so maybe he just took him up the freight elevator in a case."

"You found the trunk," Firefox said, pulling her shirt off over the top of her head. Her breasts bounced in their bra.

"There's no proof that's the trunk," Technofox said.

"Maybe there never will be," Firefox said dismissively. "But that's the trunk all right. Why wash it with ammonia before throwing it away, except to destroy evidence?" She bent over to undo her boot laces, her tail fluffing in Technofox's direction. Technofox impulsively rested a hand on Firefox's buttock. Firefox looked up at her over her shoulder and smiled indulgently. "How do you expect me to get naked if you're going to distract me like that?"

Technofox smiled shyly and took off her shirt to add to the washer. She usually didn't wear a bra, and wasn't now. Firefox looked at her for a moment, and to Technofox's surprise lowered her head and tasted Technofox's nipple. "Did you find any proof 7.62 went through Walton's suite?" she asked.

"Who?" Technofox asked, momentarily distracted. It was sort of an odd question to ask after tasting someone's nipple. "Oh. No. Not Walton's suite specifically. But it's the simplest way to do it," Technofox said. "All things considered, it's the way I'd choose."

"There's two suites up on the tenth floor," Firefox said. "The other one is occupied by a French spy."

"Right — we haven't eliminated Chantal as a suspect," Technofox agreed.

"We know Lilith is involved because we've placed her with Odenberg," Firefox said. "We have a link between Cheshire and Lilith. Do we have anything that associates Morgan and Lilith?"

"Just Victoria," Technofox admitted. "And I don't see Victoria giving Lilith a good character reference."

"Do you see her giving one to Cheshire?" Firefox asked. "Personally, I don't."

"You know Victoria better than I do," Technofox said. "There's no elevator that goes all the way to the roof," she said. "Not even a service elevator And there's cameras in the stairwells. Now, it's possible to climb ten stories up the outside of a building dragging a corpse. I'll bet Morgan's done pretty much that in training."

"Probably," Firefox agreed. Her pants went into the washer.

"But why risk it if you don't have to?" Technofox asked rhetorically. "No, I'll bet that Morgan got 7.62 and Odenberg through Walton's suite, the night of the eighth. 7.62 climbed up from the balcony and the two of them hauled Odenberg after. I'm just proposing a theory."

"Do you think Cheshire could be the accomplice instead of Morgan?" Firefox asked, putting her shoes up on the drier. That was a habit from the Boston apartment — it was to keep the robot vacuum from ingesting the laces and getting tangled up. In a curious digression, Technofox wondered if that was one of the hundreds of little habits that might mark something someday. "Cheshire knows Lilith, at least."

"Yes, but I don't think Cheshire's involved," Technofox said. "I asked Cheshire about Lilith."

"Ah, good. Did she seem nervous? Sore point there?"

"No, actually she seemed more puzzled than anything else — like she was wondering how the conversation got to her. She certainly didn't seem to think Lilith's a suspect. According to Cheshire, Lilith is the personal secretary of Per Odenberg, an engineering consultant. They all met for dinner once." She placed her shoes next to Firefox's. Technofox liked the idea of their shoes touching.

Firefox lifted an eyebrow. "And Cheshire believed that?"

"If Cheshire's not involved, why shouldn't she believe that?" Technofox shrugged. "It's not like Odenberg had 'Mafia Assassin' tattooed on his forehead."

"She'd need a pretty strong stomach to eat with Lilith."

"Or sleep with Walton." Technofox put her pants into the washer, then remembered and emptied her pockets. She always carried little things like a flashlight and a thumb drive and kept sending them through the laundry.

"True, but Cheshire could find out that Per Odenberg doesn't hold title to Lilith. That's public."

"Why should she check up on Lilith's story?" Technofox asked. "Cheshire's not a blade runner; she's not even close enough to Lilith to really care. If a human gives you his address, do you automatically check the telephone listings to confirm it?"

"I guess not. Would Cheshire rat Lilith out?" Firefox asked.

Technofox looked Firefox in the eye. "I might cut Lilith's throat," she said, "but even I wouldn't call a bounty hunter on her."

"But Lilith thought Cheshire might," Firefox said. "Because Lilith didn't tell Cheshire she was a runaway."

"Need to know's a bitch. Cheshire's in touch with Lilith, but I don't think she knows Lilith's a runaway or that she's associated with a professional killer."

"Why not?" Firefox asked, dropping her panties. Technofox was actually too engrossed in the conversation to stare.

"If Cheshire knows that Lilith's a runaway, why shouldn't she tell me?" Technofox asked. "Obviously, I'd know Lilith's a runaway without Cheshire telling me, and I'm sure not going to get Cheshire into trouble for helping a runaway."

"That's true," Firefox agreed. "Unless Cheshire wants you to think that."

"Possibly, but it's a bit convoluted." Technofox paused to gather her thoughts. "If Cheshire knows Lilith is hanging out with a professional killer, then logically, she either wants me to know, or she doesn't."

"With you so far."

"If she does want me to know, she'd just tell me. If she doesn't want me to know, she wouldn't mention who was with Lilith. Therefore, Cheshire doesn't know who Per Odenberg was."

"You got me there," Firefox said, putting her bra in the washer.

Technofox enjoyed a moment of silent contemplation. "Sorry," she finally gulped apologetically.

In reply, Firefox caressed Technofox's ears.

"Someone brought Odenberg's body into the building in the shipping case," Firefox said. "Probably in a car. Once the body's out of the aging cabinet, they only have a few hours before the bugs get to it."

"So they take the body out of storage no earlier than two in the morning on the ninth," Technofox said. "They use a car. Or more likely, an SUV or van. That case was kind of big for a car."

"Then they got it to the roof somehow," Firefox said, "avoiding security cameras. Tomorrow we need to look at the blueprints. See if there's blind spots."

"Either they took the freight elevator or the passenger elevators," Technofox agreed. "The freight elevator needs keys. Morgan has keys," she couldn't help but remind her.

"Once Odenberg's body was on the roof, someone had to take the shipping case down to the parking garage again," Firefox said. "The body's being warmed up to blood temperature with the arctic gear, so it won't be too cold when it's found."

"The packing case is in the garage. And at this point," Technofox said, "they can just drive it to a dump halfway across the city. Interesting. I didn't think of that." Technofox frowned, wondering what that might mean. "Why did they leave the case here?"

"Either they don't have a car, or they can't leave the building," Firefox said. "And why not? Maybe because they know the police are going to be looking for them. Not necessarily suspects, just witnesses. Which might mean they're obviously connected to Walton." Firefox looked at Technofox. "Chantal's got a car, and you know she's got to have a switch on the transponder — she's a French agent. So Chantal and her owner wouldn't leave the case on site; they'd drive it away. I think we can cross them off the list of suspects." The vixen smiled wryly. "With a pencil, though."

Technofox nodded. "The killer's accomplice should have taken the case away. Instead, they put it into an empty dumpster, which they moved under the chute, and maybe they covered it with garbage from another dumpster to keep anyone from seeing it before the tenants buried it. You're right. It's significant."

Firefox took Technofox by the hand, and led her into the bathroom. She started the shower running.

Firefox raised her voice slightly over the running water. "7.62's accomplice could have been Morgan. Or it could have been Cheshire. She could have carried Odenberg's body."

"I'm not sure of that," Technofox disagreed. "Jaguars are very strong, and so is Cheshire. But her knees are shot. She could lift Odenberg, but she couldn't have carried him very far."

"Mmm. Yes," Firefox said reluctantly. "But let's say Morgan and 7.62 snuck through Walton's suite. How did they get the body through without waking her up? I'll believe that a human would sleep through that, but would a chimera? Shadowfox always wakes me up when she comes in late. If anything, Cheshire's hearing's better than ours."

"I think Cheshire was drugged earlier in the night," Technofox said. It sounded weak and she expected Firefox to look incredulous.

Instead, the vixen nodded. "That wouldn't surprise me," Firefox admitted.

"No?" Technofox raised her eyebrows, startled. For a few beats, the only sound was hot water rushing down. Up until this moment, Firefox seemed all too willing to believe Cheshire was involved.

Technofox wondered if either of them was biased. Did Firefox resent Cheshire too much for being a Tamer, or was Technofox too willing to make excuses for the jaguar? It was hard to say.

"I saw her the morning of the ninth," Firefox explained. "At 0400, in the lounge. She was so tired I thought she might be on painkillers for her legs. Coffee wasn't helping her."

Firefox stepped into the shower. She closed her eyes and faced the water, wetting her face down. Her fur turned a darker shade as it grew wet. She pushed the hair out of her eyes. Technofox stepped in after her. Since she didn't sweat over most of the body, Technofox didn't shower as frequently as humans had to; a daily wash of hands, feet, and genitals kept her clean enough. Still, she liked feeling hot water on her.

"Why did you see her?" Technofox asked, curiously. The shower was just a little too small for the two of them. Technofox had, as usual, forgotten to pack soap. Firefox usually brought extra. On the shelf in the shower were two brands of shampoo, one formulated for fur and the other a small travel tube of a national brand that was probably David's. Technofox squeezed some of Firefox's inter her hand.

"We were meeting... " She looked at Technofox. "To plan the scene," she said, finally. "She was back in Walton's room by five. She mentioned that Walton got up about five thirty, and she had to make coffee."

Technofox nodded and didn't meet Firefox's eyes as she reached out to her friend's arm. She started to work the shampoo in. "She works odd hours," Technofox said.

"She's in an odd profession," Firefox said, holding out her arm and allowing Technofox to lather it up. "Cheshire's on call 24/7 but she's not likely to be interrupted that early in the morning, so that's when she has planning meetings. That's how admin staff worked in Blue Diamond."

Technofox looked at her. "So that's her normal schedule?"

"She said she was always in the lounge at four," Firefox said. "Which makes me wonder why Morgan didn't just wait until four to let 7.62 through. That's a lot less risky than drugging her, yes?"

"I don't know," Technofox agreed. "I'd guess Morgan probably used too much on her. She says she slept through the helicopter hovering overhead. It would be hard to get just the right dose — some Blue Diamond girls popped uppers and downers like peanuts. Worse if he used something non-pharmaceutical."

"Or she's lying, and she pretended to be doped up for an alibi. Think we can run a drug test on her?"

"With a chimera's metabolism? It's been too long, and we don't even know which drug he might have used." Firefox lathered her other arm. "Let me get your back," Technofox said.

Firefox turned around. Technofox started to work the lather into the fur on her back.

"All right," Firefox said. "Morgan wants to let 7.62 to the roof, with Odenberg's body. It's the night of the eighth. There's three other people in the suite, Travis, Tyler, and Cheshire —"

"Travis was with Stephanie the night of the eighth," Technofox corrected.

"Really?" Firefox mused. "It's possible Morgan arranged that — if he's callous enough to whore out his girlfriend."

"Why not? We are," Technofox couldn't resist reminding her.

Firefox ignored that. "So getting Tyler out simplifies things. That leaves Cheshire and Walton." She rubbed her nose. "Walton won't hear, and Cheshire's apparently drugged. Yes, it fits together."

Technofox didn't want to know, but she had to ask. "What did you do after meeting with Cheshire? You weren't in bed when I woke up."

Something must have crept into Technofox's voice, because Firefox looked at her and patted her hand. "Sorry," she said. "I didn't want to wake you by coming into the apartment, and I had my handheld with me, so I went to the diner to kill a couple of hours with paperwork and breakfast. I didn't think you'd worry. You usually get up around seven. I saw Morgan and Walton go out for their jog at 0552."

"That's precise," Technofox said. Firefox must have logged the event with her brain implant.

"I was gathering data on the target," Firefox reminded her. "We were planning to kill him, remember?"

Firefox leaned against the wall of the shower as Technofox washed her back. Technofox couldn't resist. She moved her hands around and touched the sides of Firefox's breasts, stroking them lightly. Firefox smiled, and closed her eyes, enjoying it. She turned around and flicked her tongue briefly over Technofox's ear tip.

Technofox smiled. "Did they see you?" Technofox asked. "Morgan didn't mention it."

"No, I don't think so," Firefox replied. "Humans sweat during exercise, so they typically take a shower after a jog. Even if Walton saw me in the diner, it didn't seem likely he'd insist on having breakfast with me." The vixen's lip curled, just a bit. "Then at 0647 I got your call. I didn't even know they were right outside the building."

Technofox noticed, ruefully, that Firefox was willing to sleep with Walton, but was reluctant to eat with him.

"All right," Technofox said. She got more soap and got to work of Firefox's legs. "If Morgan drugged Cheshire, then the killer went through Walton's suite before four in the morning. I wonder why they didn't schedule the whole thing for when only Morgan and Walton were in the apartment." Technofox bent down on one knee, lathering Firefox's calves.

"Yes..." Firefox said slowly. Then, casually, "Tech, did you shoot Walton?"

Technofox jerked her head up. "Huh?"

"Well," Firefox said, "it occurs to me that Walton had his head far back when he was hit. Or maybe the shot came from lower down on the building." She hesitated. "And maybe you wanted him dead before he touched me again."

The water ran around Firefox's body, dripping from her saturated fur.

"Well, yeah," Technofox said. Firefox's eyes widened. "I mean, yes, but no, it wasn't me. I don't rush into things." She knew she needed something more convincing than that. She thought of the forensics reports. "The police confirmed the rifle strapped to Odenberg was the murder weapon and that he fell nine to twelve stories. How did I shoot him from this apartment, strap the rifle to Odenberg's body, toss him off the roof, and then meet you on the stairs? And why didn't you smell the powder smoke in the apartment? No, whoever shot him did it from the roof."

Firefox looked at her for a moment, and considered. "Yes," she said finally, nodding. "Out of curiosity's sake, did you ever wonder if I did it?"

"Not really," Technofox said. "First, why would you ask me to plan his killing and then kill him without telling me? I was already an accomplice. But even assuming that you had a reason to do that, how did you shoot him from the roof and then get below me on the stairs?" She shook her head. "No, you might be involved, but I don't see how you shot him."

There was a moment of silence, and Technofox impulsively put her arms up around Firefox. The larger vixen smiled, and Technofox snuggled up against her. They kissed, lightly, looked at one another for a moment and kissed again, more deeply.

Firefox looked away nervously, and Technofox felt her spirits sink. This was a "I love you, but" moment. Firefox was obviously going to say she didn't like what they had done last time. Firefox would say it in a nice way, but Technofox couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

"Tech, about what we did last time," Firefox said.

"...Yes?" Tech asked, waiting for it. Firefox's grip was tight on her hands; Technofox remembered the feel of those hands sliding over her own body, the feel of that body under her own fingers.

Firefox gulped. "I... liked it a lot." He voice was shaking. "I keep thinking about it. I want to ... I keep thinking of you, uhm, tying me up, and I ... want that."

Technofox felt excitement rising in her. There was a "but" in Firefox's face. Technofox knew there had to be a "but". She wondered what it might be, and at the same time, she knew that whatever it was, it paled into insignificance against the promise in Firefox's eyes. There was nothing in the universe that could be more important than taking her to bed. _What will Firefox ask me?_ Technofox wondered. _Shave my entire body? Uwe Boll Marathon? Swallow barbed wire? Stay off the Internet? No problem. Except maybe staying off the Internet..._

"But I need it to stay in the bedroom," Firefox said. "I'm sorry to ask you that. But I don't want anyone to know. Can you do that for me?"

Technofox felt a curious sense of anticlimax. The most beautiful woman in the world was asking to be tied up in bed, and all she was asking for was some discretion.

"Sure," Technofox said. "I mean, golly, gee, gosh dang yes."

Firefox laughed. "Let me wash your back," she said.

"Where's David and Silver?" Technofox asked, handing her the soap. They changed positions She was wondering if they had time to...

"They went out to lunch," Firefox said. "And to touch base with security in Odenberg's apartment building. See if there's any video camera footage that might match up."

Technofox nodded. It was a routine step to take, even though video cameras had a truly abysmal record in law enforcement. "Why didn't you go with them?" Technofox asked.

"Oh? I, uh, had some things I wanted to do," Firefox said. "Go over the forensics, see if anything jumped out." She hesitated. "Besides, someone had to stay close in case you needed help with Cheshire."

That stung, just a little. Technofox doubted that Firefox would have bothered to do that for Silver or Shadow. "Don't worry so much," Technofox said, turning off the shower. They dried one another off, and wrapping the towels around them, left the bathroom.

"How many rounds do you have on you, right now?" Firefox asked.

"None," Technofox said with surprise.

"I mean, in your jacket," Firefox said, pointing to where Technofox's coat hung near the front door.

Silently, Technofox moved her jacket aside, exposing her pistol harness which hung on the same peg. Her revolver was on the coffee table, but the harness had, the speed loader, and a leather strap with elastic loops ten more rounds. "Twenty," she said.

Firefox tilted her head. "Isn't that cartridge holder new?" she asked.

Technofox hesitated. Firefox was right, which made it a bit embarrassing. Technofox had lifted it from the apartment's supply cabinet, and attached it to her holster this morning. Did Firefox smell the adhesive? Probably; she could.

"Yes," Technofox said. "I thought it would be more convenient this way."

"And how many did you have when we chased 7.62?" Firefox asked distinctly, in tones that implied she already knew the answer and was just curious to see if Technofox had the nerve to admit it.

"...Five," Technofox confessed.

"Five?!" Firefox repeated, aghast. Her ears snapped to attention. Apparently, she hadn't known the answer. "You didn't bring even one reload?"

"Well, I —" Technofox started. No, there was no good excuse. She had screwed up, plain and simple. She had known that even when she was running up the stairs, chasing a rifleman with a pistol.

Then a thought hit her. Her hackles rose slightly. "That's why we didn't split up and go down each staircase," Technofox said, accusingly. "You didn't think I could handle him if I caught him."

Firefox looked over at her, her eyes very different from how she had looked in the shower. Even though she was in a towel, Technofox gulped. "Tell me I'm wrong," Firefox said coldly.

Technofox stared at her.

"C'mon," Firefox said. "Rifleman versus a five round revolver. Tell me who you'd bet on."

"I did the best I could," Technofox said stiffly.

"I am pissed off because you didn't do the best you could," Firefox snapped back. "You left extra ammunition behind and made your chances worse than they had to be. Pistol against a rifle is already in the shit, but there was nothing you could do about that. Then, on top of that, you failed to maximize your firepower."

"You want me to use another gun?" Technofox said.

Firefox sighed. "No. We've been through that. You like your weapon, you're comfortable with it, and you can hit range targets with it. That's more important than how many bullets you carry." Firefox rubbed her sinus.

"I'm sorry."

"Damnit, Tech. I don't want to chew you out when you know you screwed up, but damn. The only way you could have done worse was to stay in the apartment." Firefox shook her head.

"Oh." Technofox didn't know what to say.

Firefox looked at her angrily. She shook her head, and sighed. "You did fine in the fight, but you screwed up the prep. You're not a liability in a fight, and that puts you ahead of a lot of people I know," she said. "You're smart, you're methodical, but you blew a chance to think." Firefox got up, and walked to the window. "Combat's an intellectual exercise," Firefox said. "You need to think about it as hard as you think about how to expense your next ten terabyte cheese-flavored doohickey."

The timing was all wrong, but Technofox was struck — again — by how beautiful Firefox was. "I'm sorry," Technofox repeated.

"Fine," Firefox muttered. She put a hand under her hair and brushed it back.

"Where's Andrew?" Technofox asked.

"Are you trying to change the subject?" Firefox asked, turning to Technofox angrily.

"Yes," Technofox said with a firm nod. "You're saying Technofox screwed up. Message received. Shit, I already addressed it." She pointed to the cartridge holder. "See?"

Firefox froze. For a moment, Technofox thought the red vixen was going to blow up. Instead, to her relief, the beautiful vixen raised her hands in mock supplication to Heaven. "Yes, you're right. Last I heard he'll be showing up later today. Let's put the guns away."

"Where?" Technofox asked.

"Crud, that's right. He'll probably need a nightstand. My nightstand's a bit bigger than yours. Let's put all our stuff in it — then he can use the smaller one."

"I was thinking I'd use the couch," Technofox said.

Firefox lifted an eyebrow. "I'm far too selfish to consider that," she said, and smiled softly.

Technofox smiled back uncertainly and blinked rapidly. It was good to hear that from her. They went into the main bedroom and rearranged things. Firefox was amused by the various gadgets Technofox had brought along.

"Why two watches?" Firefox asked.

Technofox pointed to the other. "That one's solar powered and it's not wireless enabled," she said. "You need to synch it with a cable. The one I'm wearing needs a cable to recharge, but it's not a standard cable and I'm afraid of losing it."

"Oh, of course. And why do you need a watch when your implant has a PIM function?"

"Because the watches have enough storage for my podcasts," Technofox explained.

"Oh." Something was amusing Firefox, which was good to see.

Technofox wanted to ask Firefox about their relationship with Andrew. It was a strange one. Before Blue Diamond, Firefox and Silverfox had been lovers on occasion, but otherwise the four had pursued relationships outside the group. In Blue Diamond, they had been forced together by circumstance. Now, with Blue Diamond behind them, it was as though the five of them ... had kept that up. What were they now?

Technofox needed an answer, and she was afraid if she pressed for one, Firefox would decide to stop what they had.

"Are we still going through with Modesty's run?" Technofox asked.

Firefox fell silent. "I don't know," she admitted. "We made the plan before the murder. Like it or not, the killing changes things. There's a good chance we're being watched."

"This room isn't bugged," Technofox said confidently. "And there's no active remote sensors —"

"I'm not worried about Bishop overhearing us right now," Firefox said. "I'm worried about his getting suspicious if he notices our car isn't where the transponder says it should be. He's going to jump on stuff they'd never notice otherwise."

"...Right," Technofox agreed reluctantly. "So what do we do?"

Firefox looked at her steadily. "Improvise, adapt, and overcome."

"Which sounds a lot better than 'Damned if I know,'" Technofox said, suddenly feeling very tired and a little resentful.

Firefox grinned. "That's true." She rubbed the back of her neck.

"Your back's bothering you again?" Technofox asked.

"A little," Firefox admitted.

"Sit down," Technofox said. "Let me give you a neck rub."

Firefox hesitated, and sat on an upholstered chair. "Thanks. I could use one."

Maybe it was a peace offering, but Technofox was glad of it. She walked around behind Firefox, and gingerly touched the sides of her neck to relax her. Chimerae gave the best neck rubs. Humans giving chimerae a rub often misread the way they felt, confusing inhuman muscle tone for stress tension, or even a dislike of being touched.

"The problem is that we have to assume we're being watched," Firefox said. "Even Andrew's probably going to be watched."

"That's a problem."

"We'll make it an advantage." Firefox looked up. "Andrew stays out of the op as much as possible. The more time they spend watching him, the less they have to watch us."

"And the less time they have to chase 7.62," Technofox said.

"Right, but unless Bishop's an utter ass he's not letting his suspicion of us interfere with the investigation. We can't let Modesty drive our car. It's too likely she'll be pulled over, and then that's it."

"As long as the case is open, anyway," Technofox said.

"And thereby hangs another problem," Firefox said. She looked up. "If you're right about Morgan being an accomplice, he's one of the good guys."

"...Oh." Technofox's fingers stopped for a moment. That hadn't occurred to her.

"And if Walton's killers are on the right side," Firefox said, "I don't want us to find them." She looked away. "ICON's blown missions before. We'll take the penalty if we have to."

"We'll go into debt."

"Is that a problem?"

"Just pointing it out."

Firefox patted Technofox's hand.

"What motivates Lilith?" Technofox asked, suddenly.

Firefox looked up. "Sex, and a desire to look good to authority," she said. "Maybe not sex so much. When she made me go down on her, she could have been playing up to Tigre."

"When I did a scene for her," Technofox said, "I got the sense it was opportunistic. She had me where she wanted me and figured she might as well have a little fun. It wasn't what she was about. No, she's about making her boss happy."

Firefox nodded and was about to say something when the front door popped open. The two faced the wall, ears swiveling forward, silent and tense until they recognized the footsteps of Silverfox and David.

"They're in the bedroom," they heard Silverfox say. "We heard that Captain Bishop swung by today. Anything interesting happen?"

"We're getting dressed," Technofox told her. Raising her voice for the benefit of David, she then explained about the packing case they had found. "The problem is that we can't figure out why the case was left on site —"

Technofox was surprised to hear David and Silver break into laughter. "Oh, that's perfect," David said.

"You tell them," Silverfox said. "You're the one who wondered if there was a connection."

"What?" Firefox asked. Since they were dressed enough, she opened the door to the bedroom and looked at David curiously.

"At 0210 on February 9th," David said gleefully, "one Michael Dunnigan reported his car stolen. "

"And he noticed?" Technofox asked, surprised.

"He's an dawn shift cook at a pizza joint," David explained. "He usually leaves for work at three. The transponder had been removed, attached to an auxiliary power source, and left near the parking space. By luck, a prowl car found the vehicle, illegally parked in front of this building at —" he reached for a notebook and flipped it open.

"0332," Silverfox said, with a huge grin.

"So the killers stole a car to transport the body," Firefox said, "brought the body here, but the police found the car before they could use it to take the case away?"

Silverfox nodded. "Can you imagine the look on 7.62's face when he saw the cops swarming all over their getaway car?" she asked. "I mean, what was going through his head?"

Technofox scratched her nose. "Probably a backup plan," she said.

"What lousy luck," Firefox said. "If the police had just waited there to nab the car thieves —-"

"They did," David said. "They waited there till five thirty, under cover. Nobody showed, so they figured the crooks weren't coming back."

"I'll bet 7.62 spotted them," Technofox said.

"Or they didn't wait long enough. They said they were hiding," David reminded her.

"Sure, from a car thief. Not from a professional sniper with night vision equipment," Technofox said. "7.62 had night vision equipment, right?"

"The rifle they found had a combat sharpshooter sight," Silverfox said. "Night vision and infrared are standard options." She considered. "The cops probably approached the vehicle to confirm the identification and then went into hiding. 7.62 might have seen them from the roof."

"I think the police waited long enough," Firefox said. "How long would it take to get the body to the roof and then take the case back down to the street?"

"I'd rather not guess," Technofox shrugged.

"Not two hours," Firefox said.

"Nowhere near," Technofox agreed.

Firefox frowned. "That close," she said, holding out her hand with her fingertip and thumb almost touching. "Crap."

"On the bright side, it probably saved the officers' lives," David said. "Like you said, they weren't expecting a sniper on the roof."

"...Yeah," Firefox agreed. She pursed her lips and frowned.

Technofox would always wonder if Firefox was about to say something then, if she was about to ask a question that wouldn't occur to Technofox until later. But at that moment, Firefox reached up and tapped the plug in her ear. "Firefox," she said. She smiled. "Hi, Andrew... I'll be right down." With a grin, she turned around. "Tech, where's the spare parking fob?"

"Hanging by the door." Technofox tried to feel happy for Firefox. Technofox liked Andrew, and Firefox liked Andrew. She should be glad her two friends were going to have fun together. After all, she wasn't jealous of them.

"Thanks," Firefox said. "Be back in a minute."

"Shoes," Technofox said.

Firefox looked down. "Oops."

Firefox ducked into the bedroom and came back out again, hopping on one foot as she slipped the other into footgear. "Need a hand?" Silverfox asked.

"Nope, we're fine, thanks," Firefox said briefly.

David watched her. It was obvious he was thinking that Firefox and Andrew would probably appreciate some time alone. Technofox caught her breath. She didn't know why, but she didn't want to explain that Andrew was — sort of — communal. The relationship was weird and difficult to explain, and Technofox suddenly didn't want to seem weird. Not in front of David.

"Tech, have you eaten yet?" David asked her.

"... Not dinner," Technofox replied.

"Neither have I. You want to go somewhere?" he asked, looking at her. For a moment, Technofox felt elated; her ears moved to point to David and her eyes widened slightly. Was he suggesting that she and he go off alone? Together? Did he want to be alone with her? And then he looked at Firefox. "How about you two?"

"Andrew mentioned he already ate," Firefox said. Technofox wondered if that was a lie. Even so, Firefox added a lie to it. "I've already eaten."

"That sounds like fun," Silverfox said. "Shadowfox was raving about the tilapia at —" Firefox shook her head slightly. Silverfox cut herself off. She glanced at Technofox, and for some reason, seemed to change her mind. "...Gee," Silverfox said. "I wish I could go with you guys, but there's something ... important I have to do in my hotel room," she said. "I'm ... changing the air in my mattress."

Andrew bit the inside of his mouth. Firefox rolled her eyes and Technofox's narrowed to cruel slits.

"You're what?" David asked, confused.

"Give her a moment," Firefox said.

"Sorry," David replied.

"I'm ..." Silverfox looked at Technofox for help.

"It's a girl thing," Technofox blurted out. It was a dumb thing to say, she realized, just as she said it.

"Chimerae have girl things?" David asked, surprised. Technofox gritted her teeth. Female chimerae didn't have girl things, in the usual sense of the phrase.

"Please let's not bring species into this," Firefox pleaded.

"It's a girl chimera thing." Silverfox looked away, embarrassed. "And if you ask me about it, you'll be fostering a hostile work environment, because I'm shy."

David didn't look convinced.

"She means she wants to take a hot bath because she's got something stuck in her fur," Technofox improvised. She widened her eyes for a moment, pleased with her own cleverness. Firefox nodded, impressed.

"Oh," David said apologetically. Apparently, that had been reasonable enough to be convincing.

They left the apartment and headed down to the lobby. Andrew was there, with a small carry-on suitcase, a case that was designed around the airline definition of "personal item", and a bulkier hard case on wheels to be checked. Firefox stepped forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Good to see you," she said. "Andrew, this is David Torrance — he's our boss."

Andrew had to know it was an imposture, but he didn't show it. Technofox mused on that for a moment. David thought Andrew thought David was their boss and Andrew was being lied to, but actually Andrew knew David wasn't their boss, and David was being lied to because he thought Andrew thought David was in charge. Intelligence work was filled with Zen-like moments.

"David, this is Andrew Larson. He's the photographer who's subletting the apartment." Firefox reached down and took the handle of his carry-on suitcase. Their hands touched; they glanced at one another for a moment, and he let her take it.

David put out his hand; now that Andrew's right hand was free, they exchanged handshakes. "Pleased to meet you," David said. "Tech and I were going to dinner; would you like us to bring anything back?"

"If you're going to Geronimo, bring back an order of chicken wings for everyone," Silverfox said. "They've got this sauce to die for."

"That sounds good," David said amiably. He looked at Technofox. "Is that okay with you, Tech?"

Technofox felt a bit taken aback. She had heard that men sometimes took women to strip clubs on dates. Was this a date now? "Sure," she said. Was Shadowfox performing there tonight? Technofox thought she might be. Earlier, David had seemed reluctant to be too forward with them — was this a sign he was unbending a little? Unbending with her?

She glanced at Firefox. For the first time, this afternoon, she realized that Firefox didn't just like her; Firefox lusted for her. Technofox wasn't used to thinking of herself as attractive. She liked it. But Firefox was with someone else tonight. And Technofox wondered if she was getting back at Fire.

Technofox looked at David. Was it really that impossible he might feel the same way? She felt something tingling within her, the familiar feeling she got when she brushed with something forbidden. It wasn't an unwelcome sensation, to be honest.

The more Technofox thought about going to see Shadowfox perform, the more she liked the idea. She had never seen Shadowfox dance, and she had always been a little curious. Would Shadowfox mind? She didn't think so.

"...Yes," she said finally. "I'd like that."

"Great," David said.

"Mind dropping me off at my hotel?" Silverfox asked.

"No, not at all."

"I'll drive," Technofox blurted out. "I know the way."

"Okay," David said. "See you later, Firefox, Andrew."

"Say," David said in the elevator on the way down, "What's Andrew's status? I mean, what can I say in front of him?" He seemed to direct the question to Silverfox.

"Tech's got a better handle on that than I do," Silverfox said. It was an odd fib on Silverfox's part; Technofox wondered what her motives were.

"Andrew knows the four of us are ICON agents, and he knows ... the chain of command," Technofox said. "He knows why we're here, but he doesn't know the details. He's an ex-cop so he's got some perspective." She hesitated. "He helped us out of Blue Diamond. We owe him a lot."

"A lot," Silverfox echoed, agreeing.

"And without getting too personal," David asked, "Are Andrew and Firefox a couple?"

"Yes they are," Technofox blurted out, afraid that Silverfox might add too many details. "I'll have to move to the couch." It wasn't a lie, Technofox lied to herself; she hadn't said they were an exclusive couple.

Silverfox was going to say something. Technofox had given her a straight line, and she was going to pick up on it. "Unless David gets a clue," or something like that. Silverfox struggled with the jest, bit it in half, and swallowed it.

Technofox knew that Silverfox would want to ride shotgun; she tried to think of a way to get David next to her in the front seat without being too obvious about it. To her surprise, Silverfox snuck ahead of David and opened the door to the back seat.

The car was recharging, but there was an estimated 200km of range in the cells and that was much more than enough. Technofox started the car, and backed out of the parking space.

"Is that the best hotel ICON would spring for?" David asked.

"It doesn't look like much," Silverfox agreed, "but it's clean, there's no more bugs than you'd see outside, and the locks are good." She started to open the door before the car stopped. "Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow!"

They waved, and Technofox waited for her to enter the hotel before shifting into reverse.

"Why did you do that?" David asked.

"Do what?"

"You waited for her to get inside."

"Huh?" Technofox paused. "Reflex, I guess. We always do." She pulled out onto Memorial.

"Training?" David suggested. "You waited until she was under cover?"

"That's probably it," Technofox agreed. "I never really thought about it before. Is that something you always do?"

"Ask why people do things? Yes. I've always been curious about the way things work."

Technofox laughed. "Maybe you can use that on the net."

"Sure. Maybe someday I'll pretend to be an ICON agent, instead of one of the 101st Keyboard Battalion."

They chuckled as Technofox pulled onto the road. "Sometimes I feel that way," she said. "I live with the other three, and they're always on the front line and I'm in the van with the monitor. It's like I'm in a movie and I'm the one doing all the exposition and the boring stuff they never bother to show."

He lifted his eyebrows. "That's funny — I could have sworn I saw you in a phone company uniform in jail this morning."

"Yeah, well ... that's new," she said. "I've been doing more field ops since — for the last few months."

"You've got a knack for it."

"If I had a knack for it why did we end up in jail?" she asked rhetorically.

He shrugged. "Bishop's pretty smart. You were monitoring police channels, right?" He reached into his belt pouch and took out his phone.

"Right," Technofox said. "Obviously he's got a secure channel we don't know about."

"Probably not. Bishop's wife has a cell phone," David said. "About half an hour before he impounded you, she got an interesting text message from Janet Ramsey."

"Who's Janet Ramsey?" Technofox asked, guessing the answer. Bishop knew, or guessed, that ICON had compromised the police data network, so Bishop had his team members borrow cell phones.

"She's married to Detective William Ramsey. The message read '2 Pretzels Oslo.'"

"I see. So I guess I'm a pretzel?"

"And Oslo is probably Odenberg's apartment," he finished.

"Son of a gun," Technofox said, surprised. "Now, that's thinking outside the box. He had a secure channel, you and Firefox were monitoring it for traffic, and Bishop had his team borrow their partners' cell phones instead. It's kind of nice to not be underestimated," she finished, admiration in her voice.

"Why are we pulling into here?" David asked. "Hey, this isn't Geronimo, is it?"

"Yes," Technofox said, cocking her head.

"But it's a strip joint," David said.

"I'm sorry," Technofox said. "I thought you knew."

David sat for a while. "Is that Shadowfox on that poster?"

"Yes." Technofox waited for him to suggest a different place.

"Then that means we can expense this," he said, tentatively.

"That's right," Technofox agreed. "We're here to ...."

"Gain familiarity with the place," David said, nodding.

"Right," Technofox said. "You know, we are truly an excellent pair of employees — we even work during meals."

"Yes. We deserve a bonus."

"I keep telling Firefox that."

"Is this something you want to do?" David asked. His head was framed by light from outside the car. "I'd hate to drag you along."

"No," Technofox said. "I mean yes. Yes this is something I want to do; no, you won't be dragging me along."

"Oh. Er, if you don't mind me asking —"

"I'm bi," she said. Usually, it would be torture to admit something like that. But for some reason, it came out relaxed and normal.

"Really? Me too," he said brightly.

"Then we're compatible," Technofox gushed. "Because we're both bi. Wait. It doesn't work that way, does it? I mean, only one of us has to be bi."

"If the non-bi person is oriented to the bi person's sex, yes."

Part of her brain worked on that. In her model, a person could be described with three Boolean bits; GENDER (Male or Female), FEML (Likes Women), MALE (Likes Men). That meant an 8 x 8 matrix with 64 possible interactions. If males were symbolized by TRUE in the GENDER field, then Record 1 would be attracted to Record 2 if ((R2.GENDER = R1.MALE) or (R2.GENDER <> R1.FEMALE). But perhaps she was overanalyzing it...

He took out his wallet. "How much cash do you have? I've got five twenties and two tens."

"Two twenties," she said, not bothering to look.

"That's eighty each." He held out two twenties of his own. "I'll be expensing this anyway."

Technically, his expenses would come out of the budget for the 7.62 assignment. Since 10% of the unspent budget would be distributed to Foxforce as a bonus, every dollar he expensed would cost Technofox two and a half cents in the long run. Which was acceptable. She looked at the two twenties, and realized she could enjoy $40 worth of garter-stuffing pleasure for only a dollar. It made excellent economic sense, strictly from a cost/benefit ratio.

"Thanks. And, uhm, sorry for pointing this out, but it'll look strange if I pay for anything. In Atlanta, anyway."

"Good point," he nodded.

They got out. He offered his arm, and she took it. Maybe he thought they'd look less conspicuous that way, but she liked the idea that he did it spontaneously.

"Table for two, please," he said to the woman just inside. It was a slow night, apparently, because there was no line to be seated.

The woman handling the seating was wearing a white and black uniform, severe and not flattering in the slightest. At Blue Diamond, she would have been a slave in a collar and a push-up bra. Here, she was dressed to deflect desire. Maybe that would make the strippers look more enticing?

Technofox hadn't thought of that before. There had been very, very few free women working at Blue Diamond, and all the ones she could remember had been working away from customers. Had that a deliberate decision by Blue, the AI that ran Blue Diamond? To set up an isolated little world where apart from guests, the only women were slaves? Would that make it less likely for the men to develop empathy for them? Or was it just that very few women would work in a slave brothel?

"Is something wrong?" David asked, as they sat down.

Technofox looked back quickly. "No, I was just thinking."

"It's just that you looked troubled there for a moment."

"I was just wondering if I remembered to set my notebook to run diagnostics."

"Ah."

The dining room was dark. Technofox looked at the menu. "That's interesting," she said. "Kind of a weird mix of cuisines. Soup, sushi, and Szechuan."

"Knives," David said briefly. "Some time ago out west a client grabbed a steak knife and went for a dancer. You don't need knives to eat most Asian cuisine."

Technofox looked up. She was wearing her pistol. "But that doesn't keep anyone from bringing a weapon in."

"No, it won't stop anything premeditated," David agreed. "Just the opportunistic stuff. The client was a long-time stalker, the stripper didn't think of him as one because he was a good client." He shook his head and sighed. "The stripper's usually trying to act like it's fun for her, when she's really an actress and it's all about the money. But is it surprising if a client thinks it's real? Given that there's a lot of people out there who aren't too tightly wrapped to begin with?"

"And nobody's banning steak knives at steak houses."

"Slightly crazy people don't get obsessed with waitresses. I always get the heebie-jeebies when the sex industry's involved in a case. I mean, smuggling's all about the money for one guy and the product for the other guy. But with the sex industry, you've got people pretending it's about sex when it's really about money. Everyone's motives turn gray. People won't kill themselves for money — but they will kill themselves because they think they're in love. When money's involved, it makes some sort of sense. When someone else's gonads are in the equation, anything goes."

"I think I know what you mean," Technofox said. "There was this case we were on once. One guy kills another guy, and then gets killed. Before he dies, the killer claimed he killed his girlfriend's abusive pimp. The girlfriend claimed the killer was a stalker. So either the killer was a nut, or the girlfriend pulled off a murder by proxy." Technofox hesitated. "I talked to her. Nothing I can bring up in court, but I'd bet a year's salary she did it. There was something... satisfied in her. She put up this huge 'Oh God, I'm so scared, I had no idea he was a nut, I let him hang around, boo hoo', but I swear she was pleased as a lion chowing down on a sambar. You could smell it on her."

"It ever get settled?" David asked.

Technofox shrugged. "No. It's all he said / she said and he's dead. And we never got a better handle on it."

"Too bad."

"Does the sex industry bother you so much you'd rather go straight back to the apartment?" Technofox asked.

"No, I also like looking at naked women," David said. "So sue me."

"Yeah, me too. I think I'll try the General Tso's Chicken. I've always liked that."

"I think I'll try the California roll. I've always liked wasabi."

They placed their orders and sat quietly for a bit.

"Tech... can I ask you something personal?"

Technofox looked over, a little bewildered.

Yes, the thought came, unbidden. Ask and I'll sleep with you.

It was such a strange thing for her to say and think. Not "I'll put up with you." And it was such a strange feeling. He wasn't unattractive or anything, but he certainly wouldn't turn heads. She didn't feel resigned, or inflamed with mad lust. She liked him and she wanted to make him feel good, and she thought he'd make her feel good too. She wanted to cuddle with him.

Suddenly, she wondered if Shadowfox would really appreciate their being here. It had seemed like a good idea before, but now she wondered. To assuage her guilt a bit, she used her implant to send Shadow a quick email to let her know they were there. At least it wouldn't be a surprise.

"...Yes," she said, finally.

"You said Walton ... hurt women."

"Yes."

"And he was at Blue Diamond."

"Yes," Technofox said, forcing her voice level.

"And Lilith was at Blue Diamond."

"Yes."

David looked up at her. "What if Lilith killed him to get back at him?" he asked. "Do we really want to take her out for that?"

Technofox was quiet for a moment, wondering if maybe he wasn't really talking about Lilith.

"7.62 has killed a lot of people," she said. "Like Ashok Mehta. 7.62 has a lot to answer for. Even if 7.62 killed Walton for the right reasons, that's between him and God."

"What if Walton wasn't killed by 7.62? What if Walton was killed by someone else?"

"Then it would be very easy for me to cover it up," Technofox said, honestly.

"Me too," David said.

Their meals arrived, and they ate quickly. "Think I should order the chicken wings for Silverfox?" he asked.

"After we go to the floor," Technofox said. "We don't know how long it'll be."

"Good idea," he agreed. David paid and they went to the other room.

Technofox's first impression was sound. Her ears were more sensitive than a human's, and maybe the dance music wouldn't hit a human quite as hard, but her ears turned away first and then lowered, as though she were upset or afraid. After that instant, they swiveled back up. It was some anonymous dance number, too upbeat and energetic.

The room was dark, with soft illumination at the tables. The tables were round, with four seats. They were a bit too small for dinner, and were probably made for drinks and snacks: there was some sort of interactive display built into them.

There was a large stage at one wall, brightly lit. Running off the main stage and into the tables was a network of runways. The dancers could, if they chose, get quite close to the clients while still maintaining that psychological distance between "performer" and "audience." The runways connected to smaller stages with low-powered spots, barely brighter than the ambient light. And there were chrome poles. The lighting was very subdued for a performance area. Technofox wondered, briefly, how and why twirling about on poles became associated with stripping. She couldn't recall ever seeing a woman with clothes twirl about on a vertical pole.

They got a table near one of the runways. Immediately, Technofox touched a claw to the six-inch screen in the middle of the table. The image flipped so it was right-side up to her; she wondered how the software knew where she was sitting. Immediately, six thumbnail images of sultry women appeared: one of them was Shadowfox. Technofox touched her friend's image; it zoomed to fill the screen, text informed her that "Ebony" was still available for table dances and appearances in the VIP lounge tonight, although she was popular and Geronimo deeply regretted there would be a wait; and that a variety of Ebony merchandise was available and could be charged to the table with a single, effortless click; and that there would be a generous discount if the patron would consent to joining a mailing list, unless they were already a member. Technofox had a silly impulse to buy something to help her friend out in her business venture.

As her eyes adapted, she looked around. Almost all the audience were humans; it wasn't a chimera hangout. The clients at the tables were mostly men, in pairs, triples and quads, with a few going solo, naturally enough clustered against the main stage and the runways. There were also some mixed-sex couples, and of those a surprising number were male humans with female chimerae. Well, it wasn't that surprising — Shadowfox would attract humans who favored chimerae.

The chimerae in the audience didn't really seem to be in the audience; most were paying more attention to their escorts than to the dancers. They were dressed to attract the eye, some sitting directly next to their dates instead of across. Technofox suspected some surreptitious touching might be going on under the tables. Technofox was probably the least well-dressed chimera there. She might well be the only one there with a friend. Like a trophy wife, cute blonde girlfriend, or sports car, a female chimera was a common symptom of a mid-life crisis.

The thought was profoundly depressing. Even their friendship with Andrew was touched by sexual abuse. It wasn't Andrew's fault — but Technofox knew they had sex with him out of gratitude and because of his kindness in Blue Diamond. Was it possible for a chimera and a human to have a normal, friendly relationship? Something happy, something that grew out of friendship between equals without abuse or subterfuge?

Technofox looked up at David thoughtfully.

Maybe, she thought.