DeathWeb

A Fox Meridian Novel

By Niall Teasdale

Copyright 2015 Niall Teasdale

Amazon Kindle Edition

Contents

Part One: Memories

Part Two: The Future of Murder

Part Three: Dust, Sweat, and Tears

Part Four: We Hurt the Ones We Love

Part Five: Storms and High Seas

Epilogue

Part One: Memories

New York Metro, 4th June 2060.

Fox Meridian stepped out of her shower and looked across at the bed with its single, red-haired occupant. Marie Shaftsbury had been there for five mornings now and Fox had to admit that they had not been unpleasant ones. Waking up beside a lover was not an experience Fox had had that often and, from what Marie had said, the same was true of her. For Fox, there had been no one special enough before Pieter, and then he had died and there had been no one since. Thinking about it, since Pieter, Fox had kept away from emotional attachment, even if there had been some stress relief. Marie was, she thought, more than just stress relief.

‘I’m awake,’ Marie mumbled, proving that she was not asleep, but that was about as good as it got.

‘Stay in bed, if you want,’ Fox replied. ‘I’ve got a meeting. I’ll be on telepresence for a while.’ She pulled open a drawer and took out one of the bodysuits she favoured, in purple as usual.

‘No… I’ll get up and eat. I’ve got a coaching session at ten.’

Fox pulled on her suit. ‘Okay, coffee will be waiting.’ Then she padded out, closing her suit as she went, to find Kit waiting beside the coffee machine.

The fox-girl AI avatar was dressed in her usual white bodice and short, white skirt, and her white, high-heeled knee-high boots. She looked as though she was planning to hand over a mug of coffee, but she was, of course, unable to do so since she was nothing but a virtual image in Fox’s brain. ‘I have completed my research on the Randall case,’ Kit said brightly. ‘Perhaps we could examine it after your meeting?’

Pouring out coffee, Fox gave a nod. ‘Okay. Did you find many more cases?’

‘A few, yes.’ Fox raised an eyebrow at the statement. ‘I found six murders which appear to fit the same pattern,’ Kit clarified.

‘And NAPA didn’t notice? Never mind. Keep it for after this meeting or I’ll be puzzling over it instead of trying to understand budgets.’

‘Mister Eaves has initiated the conference viron.’

‘Yeah, that’s Garth, always early.’ Fox downed half her mug of coffee, refilled it, and then headed for the sofa in front of the window. ‘Put me in, usual configuration, and put me in a suit.’

As she sat down, the ‘usual configuration’ appeared in front of her. The conference room table was there, if in a rather ghostly form, and she could see Garth Eaves sitting at the head of it, on her right. He was in a suit: grey and high-collared since that was the fashion at the moment. Across and to the left, Alice Vaughn was arranging herself. She had elected to wear pale blue today, one of her many practical, smart blouses. Ryan Jarvis appeared directly opposite Fox after a couple of seconds, also in a high-collared suit, though his was black. Fox was not entirely sure why they all bothered: it was quite possible that all of them were not properly dressed in reality and they all knew it.

‘Morning everyone,’ Eaves began. There was a rumble of greeting in reply.

‘You know,’ Fox said, ‘you guys decided to make this meeting happen nine hundred hours Eastern. I don’t mind pushing it to ten, or later.’

‘I’m up at eight anyway,’ Eaves replied, ‘and Alice is probably naked in bed still.’

Vaughn flushed. ‘I am not. I am also never going to live that joke down, am I?’ She had joked that she liked taking meetings from home in her bra and panties. Or she had said it was a joke, but Fox was fairly sure Eaves was not far wrong.

‘Probably not,’ Eaves went on, ‘but we’ll keep the meeting at this time for now and see where it goes. Alice, progress reports?’

‘Nothing new to report. We have seven new buildings to survey in the Manhattan Conservation District. Ryan has been handling most of that. Facilities management is secondary to security there.’

‘Your fault,’ Jarvis said, pointing at Fox. ‘Rounding up Deedle like that pushed several block owners into reconsidering their current contracts. We’ve had… seventeen requests from private homes too.’

‘I just worked out what to watch for,’ Fox replied. ‘Your guys jumped on him when the alarm triggered and responded before he could do anything serious to Tailor. So you’re going to have to share the blame. Is it going to cause logistical problems?’

‘In the MCD, no. You’re close by if they need anyone to investigate something. If these people talk to friends in other metros, then we could have issues.’

‘We need to get that investigation assistance project producing,’ Eaves said. ‘We need these AIs and gadgets that you thought up, Fox.’

‘Well,’ Fox said, leaning back and sighing, ‘turns out that Jackson had people working on Pythia for the last year or so, expecting to need something like that sooner or later. He’s handed development of Pythia Light to Terri and he’s spearheading the robotics development. He was muttering a lot about rapid prototyping and… Alice, how is the work on Sam’s place coming along?’

‘Uh’ – Vaughn’s eyes flicked off to the right while she checked something – ‘I got an initial assessment report through on Wednesday evening which is projecting completion on the eleventh, but that was assuming there were no issues with the new fabricator.’

‘I think Jackson wants to make use of that to run overnight builds.’

‘Playing with his new toy?’ Eaves suggested.

Fox grinned. ‘I don’t think he can wait.’

‘Sooner the better. The other thing I wanted to bring up today is the political rumour mill. Word is that the vote on private policing outside the metro areas may be pushed through as early as the first week in August. If it happens then, and it’s passed, we’re going to be looking at a very busy year or so while the details are ironed out and people decide what they want to do about their security.’

‘It’s going to take time to set up the processes.’

‘Some, but a lot of it is already in place. NAPA will need to set up more oversight, rules will need to be drafted and approved, but a lot of that is in place thanks to the existing arrangements. And a lot of people are going to start making arrangements early. That’s especially true of the ones planning to go it solo and set up their own police force, and those groups may be open to training. Ryan, put some resource into a training team for security units. Fox, you may want to do the same for basic detective work.’

Fox shook her head. ‘If this goes through, it’s going to be a disaster.’

‘Officially, MarTech is still against this form of policing. Unofficially, we still think people out there are going to be dumb enough to vote for it.’

‘So if we don’t want a disaster,’ Jarvis said, ‘we’d better be ready to help stop one.’

~~~

Given some warning, Fox knew more or less what to expect, but the sheer mass of data Kit had on display in the virtual murder room was… ‘Oh, wow… That’s a lot of crosslinks.’

‘That,’ Kit said, ‘is only first-degree connections and anything more indirect required to show how I found the case. I never had to go further than a third level of indirection, and all of the links come from LifeWeb.’

Fox scanned around her. The room was a dark, essentially featureless void designed not to distract from the data being displayed. The data was, largely, people: each node in the network of fine filaments of light was a person who had something to do with one of the six victims. A few of the nodes were non-personal entities, usually companies. That had been the case far more often when they had been mapping out Deedle’s victims. Here it all seemed to be personal.

Six people, all of them dead. Four women, two men. Ages ranging from twenty-one to thirty-six. All of them were attractive and looked fit, but that was not exactly an uncommon trait now, and they all seemed to fit within a socio-economic bracket that could afford bodysculpt work. There were, Fox noted, very few connections between them. None of them had known any of the others, but a couple had acquaintances in common. There was no one person connecting them all, however, and Kit had had to dig to locate some of the murders.

‘How did you find them all?’ Fox asked as she turned to the first of them and pulled open the autopsy data.

‘Comments on LifeWeb memorial pages for the most part. Someone would suggest that the death sounded similar to another they had heard about. I would follow that connection and find a case, and then request the details. It seems that NAPA did suggest a possible connection between the deaths, but it was never made public and it was not noticed until the fifth victim’s body turned up. That was in June twenty fifty-eight, about three months after the fourth. Number six was in September, and then the murders stopped. The pattern suggested that the killer preferred to avoid the winter months, but when there had been nothing by August fifty-nine, and with no leads on who the killer was, the entire case was declared inactive.’

‘So our killer vanishes. Dead or locked up for something else? Are all the autopsies like Patricia Randall’s?’ The first of the victims, Patricia Randall, had been running in Central Park when she had apparently been kidnapped, taken somewhere, and tortured to death before her body was dumped in the Hell’s Kitchen area of the MCD. The autopsy read like something about a Medieval Inquisition victim, except that Patricia had been raped at least once which Fox was moderately sure the Inquisition had not been allowed to do. But there were burns from hot wax, metal objects, and naked flame, all of her fingers had been broken, puncture wounds from wide needles had decorated her body, her jaw had been dislocated and fractured, and there were bruises across much of her body. Cause of death had been drowning: Patricia Randall had drowned in her own blood.

‘The lists of injuries vary a little,’ Kit said. ‘It seems as though the ones who lasted longest had the worst injuries. Presumably because the killer was able to use more imagination in creating them. All of them were sexually assaulted, and all of them were badly beaten. The ME in the last two cases reviewed the sequence of injuries and suggested that the killer obtained or manufactured new devices over time, some of which appeared to be based on medieval torture equipment. He suggests that one such device, a “choke pear” or “pear of anguish,” was used on Miss Randall and resulted in the dislocation of her jaw.’

Fox nodded, frowning. ‘And then they just stop… Okay. Step one, I’m going to sit down and go through all of the reports. You are going to put through a request to NAPA for a list of criminals caught and locked up between September sixth twenty fifty-eight and the end of May twenty fifty-nine. Tell them you want violent crimes and anyone with a psychological profile suggesting psychopathic or sociopathic tendencies.’

‘I will send off the request right away. What is step two?’

‘Step two is… Our killer didn’t stop, he just moved somewhere else. So if we can’t find a likely target in prison, you’re going to be mining LifeWeb again looking for similar murders in other countries.’

~~~

Marie stumbled in through the apartment door, wandered across to the sofa, and then fell, face first, over the end of it to lie there, unmoving, with her booted shins hanging over the edge. The boots were kind of like old Roman sandals, a lot of straps and with barely any heel, but the Romans had not had access to neon yellow plastic. The tight micro-skirt and boob tube, both in a similar shining lemon colour, were also fairly typical of Marie, and Fox could not entirely blame her for the minimal clothing.

‘Hot out?’ Fox asked.

‘Like a fucking sauna,’ Marie replied, the words somewhat muffled by the seat cushions. ‘And two hours of pulling faces doesn’t help. I think my face muscles are frozen.’

‘Pulling faces?’

Marie hauled herself laboriously into a sitting position. ‘Facial expression exercises. You know… “Show me fear! Show me surprise! Show me anger!”’

‘Show me what it feels like to have your nuts rammed up your nose?’

‘After a couple of hours, I almost did say that, but I’m paying to be tortured like this and it is doing me good. I’m feeling more confident.’

‘Uh-huh. You’d have to be to go out in an outfit like that.’

Marie looked down at herself. ‘I’ve seen you in things–’

‘On the day I wear yellow bright enough to blind people at a light second, I will expect someone to shoot me.’

‘Okay, yeah, I do dress a little more brightly than you do. But I’ve seen you in some skimpy outfits. Especially this last week.’

Fox sniffed. The weather had put on a sudden spirt toward the searing. There had been a few warnings on the weather feeds suggesting the possibility of tornados heading into the Kansas Belt, maybe Virginia and West region too. Chicago–Detroit metro had been put on alert, and the meteorologists were muttering dark things about the Atlantic storm season this year. ‘I don’t have a problem with skimpy, where appropriate. And the heat outside is making it appropriate.’

Marie grinned. ‘What’re you working on? I can’t see anything, but–’

‘It’s good you can’t see it. You don’t want to see this. It’s a murder.’

‘I’ve seen dead bodies. In this building, as a matter of fact.’

‘Not like this. Someone took quite an exception to Alan B Barker and–’

‘I know that name.’ Marie had started frowning in the way you do when you knew you knew something, but not how you knew it. Also frowning, Fox took a still of the young man, which had not come from the crime scene or autopsy photos, and pushed it into Marie’s sensorium. It helped little. ‘Face rings a bell too, but…’

‘Perhaps I could be of assistance,’ Kit said, appearing beside them. ‘He dated a friend of yours, Janice Potter.’

Marie snapped her fingers. ‘Right. That was… two years ago? He got me into LifeFit, indirectly. He persuaded Jan to try it and Jan persuaded me.’

‘LifeFit,’ Fox said. ‘That’s the LifeWeb fitness app, right?’

‘Oh, it’s more than that. It’s an all-round system for well-being and–’

Fox held up a hand, grinning. ‘Spare me the sales pitch. I don’t even have an active presence on LifeWeb.’

‘You don’t? Hey, you don’t! I know you’re older than me–’

‘By almost a decade.’

‘–but I thought everyone was on LifeWeb.’

‘LifeWeb will tell you they are. I’ve got an account and, as I recall, you linked to it, but that’s about it. I don’t subscribe.’

‘I handle her activities there,’ Kit put in. ‘And I use it for data mining more than anything else. I work through the commercial gateway interface rather than the public application.’

‘Wow,’ Marie said, her eyes wide. ‘Now I do feel young. I even run LWOS on my implant.’

‘Which version?’

‘Six point oh VR. It’s the latest implant-ready version they have. The six point one came out when they brought out the LifeWear Sixty-one wearable, but they haven’t done a version of that for implants yet. I heard it was mag. New interface features and–’

‘It’s identical to the six point zero release,’ Kit stated, ‘with a few changes to the visual interface which make no practical difference to usability. The Model Sixty-one hardware is somewhat improved having a second general purpose processor installed, but that has increased the weight.’

Marie pursed her lips. ‘Not a big LifeWear fan then, Kit? Too much of a MarTech corporate girl?’

‘LifeWeb’s products focus more on form than function, Marie. And their fixation on the sale of wearables and sticking with class two AIs is a drag on technological innovation.’

‘If it wasn’t for LifeWeb and the LifeRight module, we probably wouldn’t have the delegative democracy system we do today.’

‘But–’

‘Halt!’ Fox snapped. ‘No politics. Yes, politics includes whether LifeWear is better than any other hardware out there and the marketing strategy of MarTech versus LifeWeb.’ She peered at Marie. ‘I’ve yet to be convinced that delegative democracy is a good idea, so you don’t win points for that one anyway, and while you’re right about LifeRight being one of the most popular voting tools early on, the shift in the voting system did as much to promote LifeWeb as the other way around. Not that I was around when that happened, but my parents made sure I knew my political history.’

‘You don’t talk about your parents much,’ Marie said, figuring that was a viable subject shift.

‘We don’t get on.’ Fox frowned. ‘Actually, I’ve no idea whether we get on or not. Things were said when I left to join the Army and we haven’t spoken since. You see, that’s where politics gets you. You end up not talking to your parents for ten years. What about yours?’

‘Oh… they died.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Marie shook her head. ‘Dad died when I was eleven, accident with a malfunctioning agribot. Mom died when I was sixteen and left me a little bit of money, and I thought, “Marie, get your ass out of Sioux Falls and go to the big, bright lights.” And I was lucky enough to get the job with Felix before I ended up on my back.’

Fox gave her a grin. ‘So you’re out of the agricultural zones too? I was born around Topeka.’

‘Got out as soon as you could too?’

‘Personally, I think you have to have a certain kind of mindset to live there.’

‘Uh-huh, but I don’t like speaking ill of the dead.’

~~~

‘We’ve been hearing the same rumours around HQ,’ Dillan said. She was leaning back on the bar of 27Lex, a nightclub which had become something of a favourite hangout, even if none of them could quite figure out why. ‘Canard is rushing about trying to hoover up delegations. Anyone who talks to me about it and sounds like they’re against it, I’ve been pushing them to delegate to you, Fox.’ Dillan was actually wearing a skirt, along with a cropped T-shirt, and the sight had been something of a shock, but then the air had turned humid as the evening had closed in and bare skin seemed a good idea.

‘That probably explains it then,’ Fox said. ‘I’ve been getting various requests to accept delegations from cops all through the afternoon.’

‘And you said you didn’t like politics,’ Marie said from Fox’s other side. She had swapped her boots for heeled pumps, but was still in the same lemon outfit otherwise.

‘I don’t. I just get stuck with it a lot. Helen gave me her vote because she figured I had her best interests at heart.’

‘And I gave her mine,’ Sam added, ‘because I felt her personal and corporate ethics were in line with my views.’ Sam was in black slacks and a black silk shirt, his black hair pulled firmly back from his face, and he looked like an oriental god, probably an evil and seductive one.

‘And that was all fine,’ Fox went on, ‘because I knew them and it all seemed reasonable, but I’m not sure I should be collecting them. I’ve got… What’s the count now, Kit?’

‘Twenty-three detectives, four officers,’ Kit replied, not turning from her examination of the patrons around them.

‘I didn’t talk to that many,’ Dillan said, frowning.

‘I have put aside eighteen further requests which have come through this evening. From the names, these appear to be family members attached to the policemen.’

Fox sighed. ‘Just accept them all for now and make sure we have their IDs. I’ll talk to someone about how to handle this stuff. I think I should probably send something out to them and tell them what my views are. Make sure they really want to give me their vote.’

‘And you say you have no head for politics,’ Dillan said, grinning. ‘How’re the house modifications coming along?’

‘Expected completion on the eleventh, but it might take a little longer. Experimental this, that, and the other, you know?’

‘No, but I can’t wait to find out. Can I come see? I’ll sign a waiver or whatever.’

‘Ask Terri. Isn’t she supposed to be here?’

‘Working late. She said she’d be over later. She promised. She made a couple of suggestions about what she wanted to do after so I’m pretty sure she’ll make it.’

~~~

Terri strutted into 27Lex in an almost indecently short, scarlet dress with a very low, cowl neckline and barely any back to it. She looked tired and also like she owned the place.

‘You made it,’ Fox said.

‘I made it. Sorry I’m late, but we just got the deep education programming working for the forensics AIs.’

Fox gave her a quizzical frown. ‘What does that mean?’

‘It means we’ll have trial versions of the AIs available as soon as Poppa can get the prototype hardware ready, but please try to avoid needing Pythia for the next few days.’

‘That’s fast.’

Terri gave a shrug. ‘Two weeks. Setting up a basic AI isn’t that hard, it’s the specialised training. Getting Pythia to do it means she can basically blast them through the training at speed, and they won’t stop for breaks. Training Pythia… Now that took some time.’

‘Wow. I thought I’d have more difficulty with this project.’

‘It’s not over yet. You’re going to need to have some of these things do the work and maybe re-educate them on how to do it the way you want. It’s kind of like training a human, but it can be faster for some things.’

‘Okay. I can work with that. I’ll give Ryan a heads-up on Monday. Now go do something about Helen before she drools all over the bar.’

‘She’s in a skirt. She’s got great legs.’

Fox grinned. ‘Yeah, well, takes one to know one. What doll did you borrow that dress from?’

Terri grinned back. ‘I haven’t been able to get into my doll clothes for years.’

‘You’re almost not in that.’

‘Hush you. Your young redhead can’t keep her eyes off you either.’

‘Ah the burden of adoration.’ Fox watched as Terri stalked across the space to Dillan, wrapping arms around exposed waist and smiling broadly. She noticed Sam sliding away from them too, though she was fairly sure he just wanted a word while the others were distracted.

‘No urges to throw Marie out of a window yet?’ Sam asked, confirming the suspicion.

‘No. Why?’

He gave a slight shrug. ‘We’re all going to be living under more or less the same roof. You I know I can put up with. She seems like a nice girl, but I’ve not spent that much time with her.’

‘Her most annoying habit is hogging the mirror in the bedroom so that she can practise her acting. Oh, and wearing really bright colours first thing in the morning. On the other hand, she’s good eye candy, and she’s got her own space for the acting practice when she moves back into your basement.’

‘I can live with that. Isabella says the feedback she’s had from casting has been positive. Our young actress is likely to land something soon. She still lacks a little confidence when she’s in front of a director.’

‘Hard to believe. How can you lack confidence and go out to a club like this wearing an outfit with less cloth than a handkerchief?’

‘She’s got an ex-cop, a bodyguard, and a current cop looking after her here, and all she really has to worry about is wandering hands and lascivious stares. Plus, she’s doing it more to look nice for you.’

‘And when she’s doing a casting call, she’s alone and she’s doing it all for herself. Yeah. But she’s getting there. Little Marie Shaftsbury from Sioux Falls on the IB channels. Did you know she came out of the Kansas Belt?’

‘Uh… Yes. I think she mentioned it at one point when I first got the house. She was babbling a little as she showed me around the place.’

‘Uh-huh. Had a crush on you, but then what girl in her right mind doesn’t?’

‘You don’t.’

‘And what does that say about me?’

5th June.

Shopping was not one of Fox’s favourite activities, but Marie had suggested a walk around the mall levels and it was a Saturday afternoon sort of activity. It got them out of the apartment, and bed, which was not a bad thing. Looking at shoes was not so great, but what was actually bugging Fox just a little were the signs of the massacre that had happened there barely two weeks earlier.

There was not much to see. A man had walked through the mall with a missile launcher and an automatic minigun, people had died, and now you could barely tell. The image-enhancement software Fox ran more or less routinely probably showed up more of the repair work than regular people would have noticed, but she could see the scars.

‘You are not looking like a woman enjoying herself,’ Marie noted as she noticed Fox’s reflection in a window.

‘I am. I’m… Okay, so this is where Sullivan had his little spree.’ Fox pointed upward at the frame the window was in. ‘See the fresh sealant there where they had to replace this window? Last time I came through here, this had been shot out.’

Marie peered at the window, saw the whiter-than-usual sealant, but also spotted the bright green, mesh fabric platform shoes with the five-inch heels. They had small fans in the platform soles to force air between your toes, and they were incandescent. ‘You stopped him, and you limited the casualties. It was horrible, and I’m going to remember that day as long as I live, but you stopped him and I have to have those shoes!’

Fox shook her head and followed Marie into the boutique. Shopping in 2060 was something of an odd affair. Clothes shopping was often doubly so. Frequently what you were buying was the pattern licence for the garment which you could have made up by a fabricator any time you wished. Many of the designs were expected to be worn once and recycled: Fox’s bodysuits followed that mould, as did the socks she wore with trainers. There were still things made from material which was built to stick around, or had sufficient complexity or bulk that durability was important. Shoes frequently fell into that category, so the shop actually had storage in the back for pre-sized footwear.

‘So… It’s an air-conditioned killer-pump?’ Fox said, watching Marie try on a shoe which the assistant said was the right size.

‘Fourteen-centimetre heel and a four-centimetre platform… Not especially killer. And I’ll have cool toes.’

‘Heat rises, naturally,’ the assistant said, beaming, ‘so the coolest air is at your feet and this forces that up through the patented aeration sole.’

Fox suspected that there was a fundamental flaw in this idea which had something to do with sun-baked sidewalks. Pretty soon now, people would be bitching about failures in the slideways as the heat messed up the mechanism; every year the city went through the same complaints as the summer temperature soared. Of course, the people who really suffered, the sprawlers, did not get to complain much, or loudly enough. NAPA would be out in the Sprawl already checking for people who were sick from the heat, or beyond saving. Absently, she wondered what was going to happen with that aspect of the system if it all went private.

‘That sounds suspiciously like bullshit,’ Marie said, ‘but you’ve got a sale anyway.’ She glanced up at Fox. ‘It’s powered by body heat and the pressure shifts from walking!’

‘And you can see all the fans whizzing around when it does its stuff!’ Fox replied, her eyes widening in fake enthusiasm.

‘Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.’

‘You do know that the only people who say that are the ones too dumb to understand it, right?’

‘Oscar Wilde said it.’

Fox smirked at her. ‘Attributed to Oscar Wilde, in which case the full quote would be “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, but the highest form of intelligence.” However, it’s only attributed, never written down where it can be proven. Kit’s faster at research tasks than LWOS.’

‘I should shut up while I’m holding my ground. You’d look amazing in those boots.’

The boots in question had ridiculous spiked heels, an inch or so of platform, and seemed to consist of a lot of straps bound to a vertical strip which would sit over her calves. Fox tended to consider shoe heights in inches, rather than centimetres: America was still to get over its old system entirely, but people Marie’s age were more metric than the older ones. The boots were insane. Entirely impractical. ‘Do you do them in purple?’

7th June.

Fox watched as Marie practised her lines for an audition she was doing in the afternoon. Kit was also watching, and replaying the performance to the performer from Fox’s point of view. Fox thought that sounded far too complex, certainly too distracting. Marie seemed to be coping.

Kit was certainly coping. While doing the relay job for Marie, she was happily continuing to function as Fox’s PA, and it was in that role that she began scrolling data across Fox’s vision field and popped up a 2D avatar to chat through. ‘Fox, I’ve received briefing documents through from Palladium. The Regional Private Policing Resolution, twenty sixty dash six nine one, has just received sufficient petitioners and is now scheduled for a vote on August second.’

Fox frowned and Marie came to a sudden stop. ‘Did I do something wrong?’ Marie asked.

‘Yes,’ Fox told her, ‘you let yourself get distracted by your audience. Kit just gave me some information I was hoping wouldn’t turn up for a while.’

‘That vote?’

‘Uh-huh. You don’t need anyone to go with you this afternoon, do you? I have a feeling I’m going to get thrown into a lot of meetings.’

‘I’m fine on my own. No problem. You should start reading the resolution details and stop pretending I’m not boring you rigid.’

‘Reading the resolution is going to bore me rigid, and I’d rather watch you doing nude Shakespeare.’

Giggling and starting off for the bedroom, Marie shook her head. ‘I’ll go practise out of sight and you can concentrate.’

Fox smiled and let her go, and then sighed. ‘Kit, set me up a viron to work through all these documents, and let me know when Eaves wants to hold the meeting.’

‘You seem very sure there will be one,’ Kit replied.

‘I am very sure. Has Marie put any clothes on?’

‘No. She still wants me to run the feedback visuals for her, but has not bothered dressing.’

‘Then put a screen in the environment so I’ve got something extra to watch, would you?’

‘Of course, Fox,’ Kit replied, sounding distinctly amused.

~~~

Dia Barrera was a very attractive woman of Mexican descent, not very tall, but with a lush body, full lips, curly black hair, and large, Bambi-like brown eyes. And anyone who took her at face value was asking to have their guts ripped out and spread out for the vultures to feast upon. Barrera had been lured out of academia by Mariel Hoarsen, MarTech’s CEO, to be their head political analyst. Hoarsen never hired anyone personally who was not exceptionally good at their job and Barrera had a mind like a cross between a steel trap and a hunting tiger shark. The only thing about Barrera that gave away her predatory nature, in Fox’s view, was her nails, which she invariably wore long and painted some shade of red.

‘The resolution itself is quite conservative,’ Barrera said from her place at the table in the main conference room in the MarTech tower. Hoarsen was there, Jackson Martins was there, and Fox was sitting watching her too. The rest of the Palladium board, including David Graves the chairman, were there via telepresence, their images projected into the room via everyone’s implants. ‘Basically, the intent is to expand the existing ability to provision local policing via local vote and contract. It applies only outside the metro zones. The wording on validation of policing policy references the existing rules and regulations for NAPA and proposes that NAPA becomes responsible for enforcing standards. There are quite detailed budgetary analyses, and while that is not my area, our initial scan through them indicates accuracy and thoroughness. There is every possibility that this vote will pass with a good majority.’

‘Do you have forecasted percentages yet?’ Jackson asked.

‘A little early. Give me a day.’ Barrera gave him a smile and he nodded. ‘I would suggest that damage limitation is appropriate here rather than fighting the case. It is unlikely that we can sway opinion against this resolution, but we should point out the potential hazards and press for as much oversight as possible. I’ve begun a process to put in an amendment which will increase the frequency of audits. We have fourteen days to submit any amendments we feel deserve attention, and I plan to use all of that time.’

‘There were a bunch of amendments presented with the resolution,’ Fox said. ‘Number six caught my attention.’

Barrera favoured Fox with a smile. She had very white teeth. ‘I understood you disliked politics, Miss Meridian. You seem to have done the homework.’

‘This is important and I like to know what I’m up against.’

‘Indeed. Amendment six is likely not something to worry about. It’s a toe in the water. In short, the amendment proposes that the same privatisation rules apply to metro zones, but there are no detailed proposals, no budget. The proposers know that it will be a simple matter for their opponents to point this out and they do not expect this to pass.’

‘But they want to see what the vote looks like. If they can get a high enough percentage in the metro zones, they can be sure of a good result when they launch the next step.’

‘Precisely. Everyone is going to be watching that amendment. And you say you’re no good at politics…’

‘Neither Fox nor I like politics,’ Graves said, ‘but both of us have training in strategy. Amendment nine was the one which made my palms itch.’

This time Barrera frowned. ‘Nine is the national security directive.’

‘It’s basically pressing for NIX to become involved in the audit process,’ Fox said. ‘They would get direct oversight and influence of every company bidding for policing contracts.’

‘Agreed,’ Graves said. ‘I think I see a fair amount of NIX in this entire vote. I’m sure they put resource into compiling the budget figures. There simply aren’t the names among the proposers to command this kind of resource. Amendment nine is them tipping their hand, if you’re looking for it.’

Barrera nodded a little slowly. ‘It’s badly phrased, vague. It needs significant work to make it solid, but that could be a problem. It could pass as an “obvious idea.” The need for a security consideration in policing could be seen as a simple, basic requirement, and then the National Intelligence Executive could step in as the nation’s security experts.’ She pursed her pretty lips. ‘We play it as too obvious. No need for a separate statement of requirement because it’s implicit in the regulations already.’

‘It is,’ Fox stated. ‘NAPA is required to inform NIX of any case with security implications. Private contractors would need to do the same. That amendment pushes NIX into a position of direct oversight and that is something which was denied them when they were formed.’

‘Their idea of oversight will undoubtedly involve them poking their noses into places they should not be poking them,’ Jackson said. ‘Given that Technologies is going to be providing equipment to Palladium, and Services contracts to Palladium for the supply of computing resources and technical support, they could be digging through most of the business, stealing whatever they felt like under the auspices of an audit.’

‘And they would get people in the door at NAPA. We know they have them in covertly, but these ones would be official, recognised. They’d be agents working on the process of internal policing.’

The political analyst looked up the table to where Jackson, Hoarsen, and Graves were seated. ‘I need General Graves and Miss Meridian working on the presentation for this one.’

‘Huh?!’ Fox’s eyes widened and she felt her stomach lurch. ‘I don’t do–’

‘Politics. Yes, I know, but we have a perfect pairing for several of the test amendments, like this one. The general has the authority, and Miss Meridian has the passion. You can see how she wants to see justice done.’ She punctuated the statement with a clenched fist stabbing at the air. ‘I want both of them in interviews. I have a list of the people we want them in front of.’ Fox’s stomach finished lurching and sank into her boots.

Jackson was wincing. ‘You do realise that Fox is a guest in my home occasionally? If I have to listen to the complaints about this, you’d better be absolutely sure you need her.’

‘I am. Trust me.’

That just made Fox’s stomach sink further.

~~~

‘You need to take your own advice,’ Marie stated flatly. ‘Confidence. You know what you’re doing, you know what you want to say, just have some confidence.’

‘She’s right,’ Sam added. ‘We have been spouting that rhetoric at her for weeks and it does apply.’

Fox looked at Kit, in case she had something to say. She did. ‘I’m not saying anything. I don’t want that scowl directed at me.’

‘At last, someone with sense!’ Fox raised her eyes, and hands, to Heaven. ‘I am really not the kind of person you want in front of a camera pontificating about politics.’

‘Why?’ Sam asked, his gaze level despite the scowl.

‘Because… Because I’ll get pissed off and say something–’

‘And you don’t think this Barrera woman has figured that out?’

‘I–’

‘You don’t think that, maybe, she wants you to blow your stack, even if it’s in a controlled way. She said she wanted you for the passion you bring to the debate.’

‘I know, but–’

‘Your opponents will be debating this entire resolution largely on passion. They’ll be suggesting that NAPA cannot do the job and that private citizens should be handling it. There will be much talk of militias and the right to bear arms. Despite the probable need for contracted private organisations, the emphasis will be placed upon communities policing themselves, defending their own values, which is in many ways a laudable goal, but in practice it never seems to work out as well as intended. There needs to be logic to explain the problems, but there needs to be passion to counter the emotion.’

Fox glowered at him. ‘I should hire you to do it for me.’

‘I am not the CIO of Palladium Security Solutions. I do meet another useful requirement of a partner for General Graves, however, and you also have that in spades.’

‘Huh?’

‘People still believe beautiful people more than ugly ones,’ Marie said.

‘My young colleague has it right again,’ Sam said, smirking.

Fox gave up, sagging into the cushions of the sofa. ‘Oh, don’t start. Ryan says he wants me on the recruiting blips for when we need to pull in more security staff. Graves said something about… Rosie the Riveter?’

Kit’s lips twitched, though it seemed like even Sam had not encountered that reference. The kitsune raised a hand and an image appeared beside it: the classic ‘We Can Do It!’ poster image of a tough woman in a blue shirt and red polka-dot bandana flexing her muscles. ‘She was a cultural icon during the second of the world wars. The idea was to get women into roles which were traditionally male, such as riveting, since the men were off fighting and someone had to build the equipment.’

‘I do not look like that.’

‘No.’ Kit flipped the image to show a sexier, blonde version of the same, this time a still of considerably better quality. ‘This is a singer, Christina Aguilera, portraying the same style of character in a much later music video. More your style. The “Rosie” archetype continued well into the early part of this century, particularly as the equality movement picked up. It died away again in the forties.’

‘There was a really crass Army recruiting campaign in the late forties,’ Fox said. ‘“Come Join This Man’s Army.” The slogan was accompanied by a woman with enormous tits who would have been seriously on charges for the state of her uniform. Did suggest she was kicking ass, but it was fairly sexist. It worked, raised recruitment of both sexes for the next two or three years.’

‘Sex sells,’ Sam said, ‘even now when it’s more readily available than ever.’

‘You two could sell sand in a desert,’ Marie said.

Fox gave a shrug. ‘Only if I have to be passionate about it.’

8th June.

‘Oh it just gets worse,’ Fox moaned as she stepped out of the shower. ‘And when does Barrera sleep?! Barely eight-thirty and she’s wanting plans for a conference I hadn’t heard about until two minutes ago.’

‘There’s a conference?’ Marie mumbled. She sat up, rubbing at her eyes. ‘What conference?’

‘According to this, it’s going to be the “Future of Policing Conference,” and it’s going to take place in a convention centre MarTech Services runs beside the main MarTech tower.’

‘Future of Policing. Right.’

‘And the proposers of the resolution are holding it, but the announcement says it’ll cover all aspects of policing, no matter what the outcome.’ Fox frowned, sitting down to pull a bodysuit up her legs. ‘So they’ve been planning this for a while, but they left the announcement and, presumably, the booking to the last minute to give everyone else no time to prepare.’

‘Uh, why? When is it?’

‘A week, starting the twenty-first of June. Okay, nearly two weeks, but still…’

Marie shook sleep out of her head and blinked. ‘You can do that? Just book a conference hall at that kind of notice?’

Fox gave a shrug. ‘Apparently. Large-scale things like this aren’t that common. A lot of them are held in virons. I guess the building is mostly hotel, but it has facilities for hosting a conference and it’s sometimes useful.’

‘Generally for large, corporate events,’ Kit said, appearing beside the bed. ‘MarTech occasionally gathers as many people together as possible for a company party. Political or semi-political events are not so uncommon. Many with political leanings like to do their persuading face-to-face.’

‘I guess that makes sense,’ Marie said. ‘Kit, could you make sure the coffee is strong? I feel like I need the motivation.’

‘Just because you didn’t get the part yesterday,’ Fox said, ‘doesn’t mean there won’t be another along soon. And it’s all good experience.’

‘This was stage work. Real stage work, on a stage, with real costumes, and sets. On a stage.’

‘I got the stage element of the deal.’ Fox understood what Marie was getting at: there were relatively few actual stage acting roles about these days because there were relatively few theatres. ‘There’ll still be other roles. You realise that you haven’t really been trying to do this for that long?’

‘I know.’ Marie stumbled out of bed and then walked around, past Fox, to get to the shower. ‘I just really kind of wanted– Hey!’ Her whine was cut off as Fox pulled her down onto her lap.

‘Have some breakfast, let it settle, and I’ll come out running with you.’

‘It’s too hot to run.’

‘Not if we take the maglev out to the tower and run in the park at the top.’ Bending her head, Fox nipped at the point where Marie’s shoulder shaded into her neck and Marie let out a soft moan.

‘If you keep doing that, I’ll just want to go back to bed.’

Fox nibbled her way up to Marie’s ear, and her hands slid up to cup Marie’s full breasts. ‘Get yourself nice and motivated and I’ll see if I can spare an hour this afternoon to finish what I’ve started.’

Marie squirmed. ‘That’s mean… But it’s working. Let me go before I stop thinking.’

Fox pinched the girl’s nipples, getting a cry of something between pain and pleasure out of her before letting go and standing to give Marie a push. ‘Your wish is my command.’

‘You’re mean. I’m going to come in the shower.’

‘Not if you want there to be any coffee left when you get out,’ Fox sing-songed as she skipped toward the door.

With an outraged squeak of protest, Marie bolted for the shower and Fox grinned, even as she began composing emails to be sent out to various people asking about the damn conference.

~~~

A kilometre up in the air seemed like an odd place to go running, but the park at the top of the MarTech tower was quite a beautiful place and, even if all you could really do was run in circles, it was temperature controlled and comfortable, even in the baking heat of a New York summer.

Fox could not entirely enjoy it since her head was full of data, and Terri and Jackson. ‘You really think we can present the detective kit at this thing?’ Fox asked of the two telepresence portraits. The people they represented were in the same building. Jackson could have seen her by looking out his window, though Terri was down in one of the labs. This was still the easiest way to handle the conversation.

‘We’ve got a couple of weeks,’ Terri said. ‘Well, almost two weeks. I’m pretty sure we can have the basic AIs ready by then. It’s the hardware that worries me.’

‘I think we should be fine,’ Jackson said, ‘assuming that I can get some time on the fabricator in Sam’s house once that’s fitted.’

‘That should be this week, right?’ Fox said. ‘I mean, Alice was talking the end of this week for completion.’

‘I’m assuming next week before we can use the thing. That should still be enough time to produce the equipment. We run the presentation as a trio. For some insane reason, people seem to like hearing the tech stuff from me, but the two of you doing a lot of the presenting will definitely pretty the whole business up. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that a pretty face goes a long way when you’re selling things to people.’

‘And we want Fox to get a fair bit of exposure at the event,’ Terri added. ‘This way, you can actually show off what you know about detective work as well as showing off our new product.’

Fox flicked a glance at her running partner. ‘Hey,’ she said silently, ‘we want this to be worn by anyone and for it to be useful, right?’

‘That’s the idea.’

‘So what if we get someone, not a detective, to wear the thing and do some detective work. Think it’s up to it?’

‘If it’s a straight technical problem, yeah. Fingerprinting or some other form of evidence collection. You want to get one of Ryan’s security guys up on stage?’

‘I was thinking of someone who really doesn’t know much about police work.’ Aloud, Fox said, ‘Hey, Marie, it’s not actually acting, but how would you like a job on a stage?’

~~~

‘You have to be kidding,’ Marie said. To be honest, Fox was impressed: most people were paralysed for several minutes on seeing the inside of Jackson’s solarium. Marie had recovered quite quickly from visiting one of the richest men in the world while wearing bright green running gear. ‘I don’t know the first thing about forensic analysis.’

‘That’s the whole point,’ Fox replied.

‘We get someone who knows nothing, or next to nothing, about the subject,’ Terri said, ‘and we get the tutor system to walk them through it. If you can do it, then someone with basic security training, or even some local guy with barely any training at all, can do it. I’m confident of my software, Marie.’

‘And I am… reasonably confident of my hardware design,’ Jackson said. ‘There may be a little rapid prototyping involved, but I’m sure we’ll have everything ready for the presentation.’

‘Do I at least get to try it out?’ Marie asked.

‘We make sure it fits,’ Fox said, ‘and that it interfaces properly with your implant, but that’s it. We really want you to put the thing on and just do what it tells you.’

Terri grimaced. ‘We’d normally at least try this out before we do it for real in front of an audience. I guess there’s nothing wrong with trying it in the lab with another tester. Wow. Now I’m nervous.’

‘It will make an exceptional demonstration of the capabilities of the system,’ Jackson said. ‘All we have to do now is make it work. However, Marie, that is not your concern. If you’re happy to do this, we’ll pay standard rates for the week. There’s a stand in the vendor hall which we can put you to work on, handing out leaflets, sweet-talking the delegates, and we’ll get you out to demo the harness. And after that, I think, we’ll have you in it on the stand because people will want to see it up close. Yes, I believe this is going to work quite well.’ His attention shifted to Fox. ‘You need to talk to Dia. She’s sorting out the debates and lectures we plan to get involved in. I’ll tell her about the presentation plans.’

Fox nodded, sagging a little. ‘Yeah. So, Marie, you up for this? You can say no, but it’s paid work.’

‘And on a stage,’ Marie said, grinning a little. ‘I’ll do it. It’s for a good cause anyway.’

‘Which good cause is that?’ Fox asked.

‘Oh, I could really do with some better clothes for doing casting calls in.’

11th June.

‘The crew are having some difficulty getting the fabricator equipment into position,’ Vaughn said, her avatar shuffling a little in its virtual seat. ‘I’ve a list of excuses. Extra precision required in the support structures. Unusual size of some of the components causing difficulty. Basically, however, it comes down to Monday before the fabricator is in place and then they’ll need another day to clean up and make sure everything’s finished off properly.’

Sam, who would not normally be sitting in on a Palladium board meeting, shrugged. ‘My apartment is paid through the end of the month. I was not planning to move in a hurry. I’ve never got to do it in a leisurely, measured fashion before and I plan to enjoy it.’

‘Jackson’s been informed?’ Fox asked. ‘He was keen on getting that fabricator to build him prototypes for the new hardware.’

‘He knows,’ Vaughn replied. ‘He’s been keeping a watch on the workmen ever since they started on the installation.’

‘Uh-huh, and I think my house guest will be okay with waiting on moving back for an extra couple of days. Marie?’

‘I’m fine. More time for acting practice. Once we’re back over there, I have to do housekeeping things too.’

‘Since we have our “demo dolly” here,’ Eaves said, almost keeping the smirk off his face, ‘perhaps we could discuss the conference?’

‘Pretty sure that’s a politically incorrect term,’ Fox told him, ‘but I’ll accept it once since she is a real doll. In the old, Hollywood sense of the word.’

‘You’re not really old enough to remember Hollywood,’ Sam pointed out.

‘I like old movies. Some of them.’

‘And they still do stage versions of Guys and Dolls in Chicago,’ Marie put in. ‘I can live with being a demo dolly. Especially since the contract came through and Mister Martins’ idea of standard rates is apparently a little higher than most people’s.’

‘You were thinking of standard rates for actors, I’d imagine,’ Eaves told her. ‘He was thinking of standard rates for short-term office staff in MarTech. MarTech pays well.’

‘They sure do. From my perspective, the gig is easy enough. I’ll be nervous as Hell at the presentation because I don’t want this kit screwing up because I did something wrong, but I even had a very vague word with my acting coach and his opinion was that being nervous would work for us. The audience will see it and know I’m not faking it. I’ll need good briefing material for the stand though. So will anyone else you plan to have on there.’

‘We’ve got that taken care of,’ Vaughn said. ‘Full briefing documents and a virtual tutor program which can take you through the company line on pretty much everything. What kind of implant do you have?’

‘It’s a MarTech VirtAI Ten.’

‘But she runs LWOS on it,’ Fox added.

Marie’s cheeks coloured. ‘It does what I need!’

‘The hardware is quite adequate to run our software,’ Vaughn said. ‘LWOS is perfectly adequate for many people, Fox, even if I believe a true virtual assistant is preferable.’

‘Rumour is that LifeWeb agree,’ Eaves said. ‘The version seven software is apparently going to be quite an upgrade. Class three AI instead of class two. Increased use of modularity to make it more flexible.’

‘They’ve built LWOS on a class two for years,’ Fox said. ‘Why the change?’

‘Well, rumour is that it was Grant that kept the same codebase going. Now he’s finally retired they’re taking the opportunity to shift to more effective software. Yet another rumour suggests that they may produce a class four AI version which would finally be effective with all those social interaction modules they tried to force onto a class two.’

‘I love sitting in on board meetings,’ Marie muttered, her eyes wide.

‘Your implant could not run a class four AI, Marie,’ Kit informed her, smiling, ‘but it could handle a class three, assuming they do not go over the top with it.’

‘I can live with that,’ Marie replied. ‘Anyway, if we’ve got support for the stand, it should be good. Have you decided on some sort of corporate look for us minions?’ Eaves looked at Vaughn who blinked back at him. ‘Maybe something like the uniform you use for your security people?’

‘I’ll talk to marketing,’ Eaves said. ‘Good call. You can come to our meetings more often.’

‘She’s going to be cleaning my home,’ Fox said. ‘Don’t be surprised if she does.’

~~~

The murder room was looking full. Fox turned slowly, taking in the new images and links. ‘Are you sure about this, Kit?’

Kit nodded. ‘Ninety-two per cent taken across the board with a variance of three point nine per cent. Eleven victims so far, the last of those was found on April twenty-seventh of this year in Berlin, Germany. I do not believe I will uncover more until the killer strikes again.’

Fox followed the trail. ‘So he kills number six here and then number seven turns up on Christmas Day in Cape Town, South African Federation.’

‘And another in March, but the ninth, tenth, and eleventh are in Berlin. He took advantage of the season shift between hemispheres. He continues to like good weather for his murders.’

‘April seems early for summer in Germany.’

‘A little, yes, but I have not been able to determine how he picks his victims. Perhaps he found someone he had to have and could not wait.’

‘Maybe. Do you know whether the German cops have marked these down as a serial?’

‘If they have, they are being tight-lipped about it.’

‘Okay, meetings. I want to talk to the investigating officer on the New York cases. Get me an appointment at the UNTPP and we’ll see if they can chase up the Germans. And get me a slot with August. You’ll need to go through NAPA since he’s under house arrest.’

‘I will notify you when the meetings are confirmed. What will you do?’

‘Start scanning the data you have on these other killings. No one in New York came up as a potential when you scanned arrests, I take it?’

‘No one I found met the requirements well enough for me to consider them, but I can provide that data too if you wish to examine it.’

Fox sighed. ‘I suppose I should. You’re a trainee, after all. I have this feeling I’m wasting my time, but give me the list.’

~~~

‘I was totally wasting my time,’ Fox commented as she rode the elevator up to the UNTPP offices in New York Tower.

‘I’m sorry, Fox,’ Kit replied.

‘Not your fault. You did your job and I felt I had to check because you’re still in training. It was the right thing to do, but I was totally wasting my time.’

‘Well, you can at least have a pleasing time briefing Captain Deveraux.’

‘Well, he’s nice enough–’

‘On seeing Captain Deveraux, your reaction is similar to when you first see Sam and Marie in any given day. Dilated pupils, increased heart and respiration rates, low levels of sexual arousal. It dies away faster with Sam because he is a long-term friend.’

Fox felt her cheeks heating. ‘Now I’ll just be embarrassed when I see him.’

‘Perhaps, but there will still be the same arousal. It is not a voluntary response, Fox.’

Replying with a grunt, Fox stepped off the elevator as the doors opened and then stopped as she was saluted by a very neatly dressed UNTPP officer. ‘Captain Meridian,’ the girl said, using Fox’s old UNTPP rank, ‘please follow me. Captain Deveraux is expecting you.’ Fox followed on, wondering when they were going to stop calling her that.

Deveraux, at least, remembered, and Fox was taken to his office instead of a conference room like last time. She got the feeling that was a step up in trust. He certainly seemed to feel she belonged there, waving her to a seat as he poured coffee from a pot which was already sitting on a table at one side of the room. Even with his back to her, Fox was annoyingly aware that she was a little aroused by him. He hit several buttons for her. He had blonde hair and she loved blonde men, and his hair was long enough to brush his shoulders and drape over his brow. The blue eyes were clear and sharp, the face quite hard, angular, but strong. The body was strong too, but not over-muscled: slim, athletic, toned. Then there was the accent: he was not old enough to be French so it was probably Quebecois. The UNTPP took people from all over the globe and Fox had met a lot of nationalities. She liked non-American accents.

He turned and smiled, placing a mug of steaming, aromatic, black liquid in front of her and then sat down, stretching out his legs. ‘What can the United Nations Trans-Planetary Police do for Palladium Security Services today, Fox?’

He had a good smile. Fox realigned her focus from sex to work and smiled back. ‘I’ve got another serial for you.’

‘Another international one? You seem to be making a habit of this. I’ll begin to think you just like working with me.’

‘Maybe I do. However, this one started here, in New York, six victims, but then he moved on. Two dead in Cape Town, three in Berlin. The last was this April. He’s a nasty one, Jason. He tortures them to death. Gender is not an issue. Neither I nor Kit have managed to spot a pattern in the victims. It took NAPA five bodies for someone to notice the link and Kit couldn’t unearth anything to suggest the German cops have put it together.’

‘Huh. So you wish for me to check with them, show them the evidence, and ensure they are treating it with the urgency it deserves?’

‘Basically. This guy likes hunting in summer. Late spring through early autumn anyway. He started kind of early this year which means he’s probably going to kill again soon. They’re going to have another body before the end of this month, probably.’

‘I’ll see what I can do. How did you get on to this?’

‘You’re following local news, I’d imagine, so you saw the reports of the arrest of Harper August?’ He nodded a reply and she went on. ‘That was more or less my doing and he agreed not to fight the case so hard if I would investigate the death of his granddaughter. Patricia Anne Randall was this killer’s first victim. Kidnapped from Central Park on a run. Her naked, battered body was found in the old Hell’s Kitchen area three days later. When Kit was running the basic background stuff, acquaintances and such, she dug up two more very similar murders so I had her keep looking.’

‘Your PA is very capable,’ Deveraux said, smiling again.

‘She is,’ Fox replied, taking a data stick with the Palladium logo on it from her pocket and placing it on the desk. ‘Everything she collected.’

‘I may try to hire her away from you.’ He picked up the stick. ‘You would like to be kept apprised of any results, I assume?’

Fox nodded. ‘I’m not NAPA so there’s no extradition or anything for them to worry over. If they can nail this guy, they can maybe charge him with additional crimes. If they could see their way to letting me have the case files…’

‘I’ll see what I can do. I’ll push your impressive record and suggest you may spot something they have not. I’ll see if I can get the data from South Africa as well, share it all around. It is, after all, what the UNTPP is meant to be here for.’

Fox smiled at him again. ‘I’m really glad someone in this place remembers that. Oh, and you can’t have Kit. She’s my gorgeous assistant.’

~~~

‘Thank you, Fox,’ Kit said as Fox went down in the elevator.

‘What for?’

‘Describing me as your “gorgeous assistant.”’

‘Huh. My pleasure.’

‘Of course, I am yours and would not think of getting another job.’

Fox nodded. ‘Of course. Then again, you could be reprogrammed to say the same thing to a new owner.’

‘That… is true. Would you give me away to Captain Deveraux?’

‘Hell no! You’re my gorgeous assistant. I think it’s kind of wrong that I could do that anyway. And Terri would, in all likelihood, perform brain surgery on me with a rusty spoon.’

‘Quite an image, but I suspect that that is medically unsound. An internet search does not show any instances where brain surgery with a rusty spoon resulted in death, but I still think it’s not recommended.’

‘Ha ha.’ The elevator stopped and Fox walked out, heading across the broad lobby to a nearby slideway. ‘Should get there in time for the next chat, right?’

‘Inspector Cant is expecting us in twenty minutes,’ Kit replied. ‘I’m not sure he will offer us coffee, however.’

Fox stepped onto the slideway and moved over to lean on the rail. The moving sidewalk was a direct connection between the precinct building and New York Tower, but it did not see a lot of traffic. The shrinking business of government administration did not produce high traffic to and from the local NAPA facility.

‘I expect him to be grumpy and useless, probably growling and threatening. I agree there is unlikely to be coffee.’

‘Given your feelings,’ Kit said, appearing on the track in front of Fox, ‘why are you even bothering to interview him?’

‘He was just Detective Cant then and he was not a bad detective. Good closure rate. I bet it burned to find a serial and then have him vanish. I’m hoping it burned enough that he’ll want the guy caught even now.’

Cant did not look especially pleased to see Fox, and he did not offer her coffee. However, she had had time to stop off and get a plastic cup of the stuff, or what passed for it in precinct 19’s HQ, on the way up. Cant sat behind his desk, in an office almost identical to the one Fox had had, and did not get up when she was shown through by one of the junior detectives. Cant was a big man, intimidating, Fox imagined, to some. Six-one or thereabouts, a lot of solid muscle which was mostly natural. He was a blonde, but one with something of a slabby face, his nose showing signs of a break he had never had fixed, his eyes a dull grey. If he had been sharp before making inspector, there was little sign of it now.

‘Meridian, what brings you down to the slums from your high tower?’ Cant asked the question with a hint of mock humour and a lot of dislike.

‘I don’t live in a tower, Cant.’ Fox settled into a chair opposite his desk, even if he had not offered one. ‘Same apartment block as before. You caught a case before you got shifted up a rank, Sandra Monarch, found dead near Lexington Tower. You linked it to another one, Alan B Barker–’

‘There were six of them. The guy had killed six. You pulled the files on those?’

‘The first one was Harper August’s granddaughter.’

‘Yeah, I was aware.’

‘August agreed to quit throwing obstacles in the way of his trial if I looked into his granddaughter’s murder. That death was why he went off the rails and formed Augustine Property Services, as a security organisation. He didn’t seem to know Patricia Randall’s murder was part of a sequence.’

‘The link was never made official, never put out to the media. Analysts said that it was not definitely the same guy. The pattern was insufficiently complete, the probabilities were too low. Usual statistics crap.’ Just briefly, Fox saw the fellow cop sitting in front of her. They both knew what it was like to have what seemed like obvious connections tossed aside because someone did not like the odds and the media noise that would hit because of the announcement. ‘I was allowed to make a note in the files for the last two cases suggesting that they were linked and that they might be connected to others. Then the guy stopped. I’d worked out he didn’t like doing his thing in the cold, but next spring there was nothing. Canard was pushing for my promotion, but he wanted the decks cleared. I had to put the case down as inactive in the summer.’

Fox nodded. ‘He didn’t stop. He moved to Cape Town.’

‘The place in the South Africa Federation?!’

‘And then on to Berlin. He’s killed five more since he left New York.’

‘Berlin? Shit. If they catch him, we’ll never close the case.’

Fox shrugged. ‘I pulled at some strings in the UNTPP. They’ll see I get notified if the guy’s pulled in, and I’ll make sure we can close the cases. I don’t think August cares where this bastard gets put away, but he wants him found and locked up.’

‘Yeah well, you’ve read the files, right? We both know where this one’s going, no matter who catches him.’

‘Cold Harbour, no possibility of parole.’

‘And with what this one does to his victims, he deserves to live a long life in a box.’

For once, maybe the only time it had ever happened, Fox was in full agreement with Cant.

~~~

‘Canard has actually arranged a roster or something so that everyone of detective grade and higher can attend this conference for half a day while it’s on.’ Dillan lifted her glass and sank half of the wine in it, and Fox hoped Terri was going to turn up tonight or she might have to try squeezing three into bed. ‘Station houses are “encouraged” to allow lower ranks to attend if possible. I am starting to hate that place.’

Fox shrugged. ‘Resign. Come and work for me.’

‘It’s just politics, politics, pol– What did you say?!’

‘Our medical includes hearing tests.’

‘You’re offering me a job, while we’re in a sex club?’

‘It’s not a sex club. No floor show and the staff aren’t on the tariff.’

Dillan smirked and pointed a thumb at a passing woman. ‘No floor show?’ The girl’s skirt was so short that it barely concealed her underwear, assuming she was wearing any.

‘You know what I mean. I have to start recruiting at some point. You’re a good detective. I’ve seen your work and I know I can get on with you. I’ve been thinking about it since they gave me this CIO position, but now it’s starting to look like I may need more staff. So… Well, you should give it some thought.’

‘I don’t think I need to think about it too hard…’

‘Don’t be so quick to judge. Could be a lot of travel, on and off planet. Pay’s good, equipment is excellent, but you could be away from home a lot and there may be a lot of pressure.’

‘Someone needs to talk to you about selling these jobs,’ Marie commented.

‘I just want her aware of what she’s getting into if she goes for it. Jackson kind of skipped the part where I was a member of the board and I’m not letting anyone else join up without full disclosure.’

‘Okay,’ Dillan said, holding up her hands. ‘I get it. It’s not all wine and roses. I’ll think about it and on Monday you can send me the contract paperwork.’

‘That doesn’t sound much like thinking about it.’

‘I’m a fast thinker.’

13th June.

Harper Markus August did not look to be closing rapidly on his first century. At ninety-six, he looked more like a man of fifty, or younger, unless you looked into his eyes. His eyes and mouth had a few wrinkles around them, and the eyes themselves had been a deeper blue in his youth. But there was age and too much stress and unhappiness in those eyes. Fox could see even more of it now than she had the last time she had faced the old man. Whether it was the new stress of the charges against him or some relief at handing his granddaughter’s murder on to someone else, Harper August was aging.

‘You’ve news?’ August asked as Fox entered his office. He had a large townhouse not far from Central Park, and a large office within that. An entire wall of it had been set up as a video screen, which was unusual: there were people who avoided or could not have implants, but wearables were generally employed rather than old-style screens. Though Jackson’s office had a similar wall for visual presentation and Fox was unsure why he had it.

‘News, but not particularly good news,’ Fox replied. ‘Could my PA use your display wall?’

August’s brow furrowed. ‘Computer, authorisation for Miss Meridian and her AI to access display features of office systems.’

‘Confirmed.’ The voice was flat, emotionless, clearly synthesised. August was a child of the last century and seemed to like his computers to be as dumb as possible.

‘Good afternoon, Mister August,’ Kit said from the video wall. She was dressed in her more formal outfit, with a pencil skirt replacing the shorter, bell-shaped one, pumps instead of boots, and her white-framed glasses perched on her nose. She seemed to recognise that August was not interested in talking to an AI and simply turned to toss up pictures of the victims: two rows of five, and one larger frame showing Patricia Randall, the first of them.

‘Am I to assume that the man responsible for Patricia’s death also killed these others?’ August asked. He had a quick mind, and a dangerous one.

‘I have tracked down five more murders in New York Metro with the same MO,’ Kit replied. ‘After that there were two in Cape Town, South Africa, and three in Berlin, Germany.’

‘Your granddaughter was the first,’ Fox said, ‘but this bastard was just getting started.’

‘You believe he’s still killing?’

‘The last victim was found this April. I have a contact in the UNTPP who’s liaising with the German police. When he strikes again, they’ll be looking at it as a serial with international aspects. They’ve got three corpses so I doubt they’d be willing to extradite, but if we can place evidence before their courts indicating he’s killed eleven instead of three, they’ll probably drop him in a hole on the Moon.’

August gave a sigh, sitting back in his large, leather chair. ‘In truth… Nothing will bring back Patricia. Seeing some form of justice would bring a form of closure. Before I too am locked away in a dark cage.’

‘I understand your reasons for doing it, but you went too far. You lost sight of the justice you were seeking, Mister August.’

‘That I did, but too far? How far would you go to see justice for the death of someone you love, Miss Meridian?’

‘I’d kill whoever did it,’ Fox replied flatly. ‘Have done. But I did it legally and there was no collateral damage. I know what revenge is all about. I’ve lost someone very dear to me and everyone responsible for that is dead, but I didn’t kill some old guy because he was in the way.’ August looked away, avoiding her eyes even though she was purposefully not looking at him. ‘Kit will leave you the data we’ve collected. I figure you’ll want to see it.’ She frowned and turned to look at him. ‘Why the screens?’

August seemed happy to have a subject change, which was a little surprising. ‘I dislike wearables, find them uncomfortable, and I suffer from a form of CRS. My body attacks implanted electronics. I understand that there have been some advancements made which might help, but at my age I don’t feel the need to change the way I work.’

Fox nodded. Cyber-Rejection Syndrome was actually a collection of conditions all of which resulted in an inability to use implants and cybernetics. Some people had trouble with the nanofibre components used to connect to nerves, and some suffered from the same sort of rejection organic implants caused, even with materials which were supposed to be invisible to the immune system. ‘I’ve never met anyone who suffered from that. I’m honestly not sure how I’d cope.’ She lifted her right hand, folding the fingers slowly. ‘And I’d be left-handed now if I couldn’t take cybernetics.’

‘They’ve determined most of the genetic factors involved and they’re routinely screened now. They’ll soon be able to eliminate any predisposition in older people. By the end of the century, I doubt there’ll be a person alive without electronics in their brain, but I prefer to stick with the old-fashioned methods.’

‘Nothing wrong with that,’ Fox replied, turning for the door. ‘I’m kind of old-fashioned myself, about some things.’

~~~

Old-fashioned did not describe Fox’s sex life, she had to admit. Casual bisexuality had become more commonplace since the late twenties, according to Kit who had engaged in a fairly thorough study of human sexuality and presented many of her findings to Fox. There was still something of an imbalance: men were slightly more likely to be either heterosexual or homosexual, and women were more likely to experiment either way. Kit had said that men still had more of a hang-up about being men, unless they had already decided that they could be a man who liked other men. All that, of course, applied to America, Europe, and the other more liberal states. In other places, things were significantly stricter. There was the Caliphate, of course, and Russia still had quite draconian anti-homosexual laws.

And none of that was going through Fox’s head as she lay on her bed with Marie’s head between her thighs. Though Marie was a case in point, she was experimenting. Fox was the first woman Marie had been to bed with, a fact Fox found a little surprising, but then the Kansas Belt was hardly a hotbed of lesbian liaisons and Marie was fairly young. Still, Fox was Marie’s first and there was more enthusiasm than skill in her sexual technique, but she had learned Fox’s body really well…

Fox’s back arched as the tension began to build in her abdomen. She bit her lip and her fists clenched in the sheets, and she fought to stop her thighs from clamping so hard onto Marie’s head that that nimble tongue would stop. ‘Oh… Shit… Going…’ There was the sudden release, the explosion, the roaring of blood in her ears and the bright, white darkness of her eyelids clamped so tightly shut that sight seemed to just implode on her.

And then there was Marie crawling up to lie at Fox’s side, holding on until the aftershocks decayed into tremors and then died away entirely. Fox lay in the silence and contemplated her current situation. Since Pieter Vos had died in a bunker in the region of Dallas, there had been no one in her bed for more than a night. She had once told Terri that she did not prefer men, that there was simply a statistical imbalance in the partners she had had, but here she was, maybe falling in love with a girl. And Marie was a girl, almost a decade younger than Fox was. Would she tire of the experiment?

‘Dollar for your thoughts,’ Marie said.

‘Oh… I was thinking about… huh, sex and old-fashioned things, and that you’ve really got the hang of that, considering you’ve not been eating pussy for very long.’

Marie giggled. ‘Thank you. I’m a quick study.’

‘You are, and this is a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon, but we should eat. And not each other. Food.’

‘Yeah. Good point. I think I’m getting hungry.’

‘Javen sent an enquiry concerning your plans for an evening meal about six minutes ago,’ Kit put in, appearing beside the bed. ‘I could contact him if you wish Sam to join you.’

Fox looked down at Marie. ‘Up to you.’

Marie gave a shrug. ‘Why not? Guess I’ll have to put clothes on.’

‘Something anyway. Kit, let Sam know we’re going to sort some food out now.’

There was a short pause, Fox crossing to the shower during it, and then Kit said, ‘Sam is bringing a bottle of white wine.’

‘We’ll do pasta then. Let him in when he gets to the door and tell him we’ll be out in a minute.’

‘He’s going to know exactly what we were doing,’ Marie commented, her cheeks colouring.

‘You really think he cares?’

Stepping into the shower behind Fox, Marie’s brow furrowed a little. ‘No, I guess not. I still find it odd that you two have never…’

‘Banged like a barn door in a hurricane?’

‘That.’

‘We value the friendship. He spends his working life entertaining all sorts of people. Sometimes he even enjoys it. I’m the girl he doesn’t need to worry about impressing, the one he can be himself with.’ She gave a little shrug and began running soapy hands over Marie’s back. ‘Of course, even when he’s not trying, he’s damn sexy.’

‘No argument here. But so are you.’

‘Thanks.’

‘It’s different though. Different sexy.’

‘Thanks, I think.’

Marie giggled. ‘Sam’s smooth, strong, elegant, really attractive. You’re more like… You’re not as smooth. You’ve got sharp edges. You’re a dangerous kind of sexy.’

‘Right. I guess I can live with that. Rinse off and I’ll turn the dryers on.’ A ‘dangerous kind of sexy,’ huh? Well, Fox had to admit that she had a few edges that no one had ever managed to rub off. Not the Army, nor the UNTPP, and definitely not NAPA, which had possibly sharpened a couple. She was, she supposed, a dangerous woman: combat trained, physically enhanced, lethal with a gun. Then again, the same was true of Sam, but he just glossed it over better.

Leaving Marie to figure out what to wear, Fox pulled on a bodysuit and walked through into the lounge where Sam was busy cracking the seal on a bottle of wine. He did gloss over that lethality well, but to Fox it seemed quite obvious. She could see the long, supple muscle shifting under his skin and recognised the training his body form represented even if Marie just saw a fit, attractive, oriental man. He was an attractive man, no doubt about it, and Fox pushed the usual physical reaction to him aside by pulling up her catalogue of recipes, filtering on pasta dishes and available ingredients.

‘Calabrese?’ Fox asked, heading for the cupboards under the kitchen counter. ‘It’s quick and easy, and I’ve got a good substitute for the cheese.’

‘Sounds good.’

‘Sam… Do you ever get any urge to drag me into bed and show me what I’m missing?’

Sam paused having poured out two glasses of wine and looked at Fox, apparently deciding to give the question some serious thought. She was tall, in fact they were about even in height at five feet eleven, slim, firmly muscled with the same sort of long, athletic body as his, but softened a little by full, firm breasts. In the long-sleeved bodysuit with the high collar and hips and the thong back, her legs were shown off to glorious effect and she had great legs: long, lean, powerful. Her face was all angles from the pointed chin to the high cheekbones. Her mouth was wide, a little thin, with a pronounced bow. Her eyes were blue with a strong, dark ring around the irises and a hint of green in the colouring. And there was the somewhat unruly mop of orange hair that faded out to near-white at the tips which had given her her nickname.

‘Serious answer?’ Sam asked.

‘Uh-huh,’ Fox replied, but she was not looking at him.

‘Every time I see you wearing something like that. Not every time we drink a little too much and come home together, but quite often. Every time you’ve been here when I’ve come back from one of my less impressive assignations and I could desperately do with being reminded that sex can be good…’

‘I get the idea.’

‘But you’re a friend, not a client or a lover, and I don’t have many of those.’

‘Yeah…’ Fox trailed off as the bedroom door opened and Marie padded out in a nearly identical bodysuit, except that hers was iridescent green, like a beetle shell. ‘Nice outfit.’

There was a thump from behind her and she looked around to see Sam’s head resting on the counter. ‘Are you two trying to make all the blood leave my brain,’ he whined.

14th June.

Fox stood at the back of the utility room in Sam’s house, watching Jackson and Terri Martins clucking over their latest creation like a pair of mother hens.

‘The tank’s full?’ Terri asked.

‘Fully charged,’ Jackson replied. ‘Conditions reading optimal.’

‘Loading the basic AI… loaded and booting.’

‘What’s it going to do once it’s functional?’ Fox asked.

‘I’ve got a trial pattern loaded,’ Terri replied, ‘but we need to run basic diagnostics first.’

‘Not one of your smart fabrics or whatever?’

‘No, this is simple. If it can do this, it can handle your needs for the house and we can experiment with a few of the newer designs later.’

‘Okay.’

‘Now,’ Jackson said, ‘Palladium will supply feedstock for the system, but the tanks and supply valves are all up there.’ He pointed at a bank of one-way valves mounted on a panel above the console they were working at. To Fox, the entire thing looked a little over-complicated, but it was a prototype of sorts. ‘The console,’ Jackson went on, ‘is more complex than the production system because we need more diagnostic data out of this one.’ Well, that figured. ‘However, the basic controls are the same as normal and can be accessed via the main computer.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘And the chemicals go round and round,’ Terri said, swirling a finger in the air in the general direction of the black tank which sat behind the console. She pointed down and left. ‘And it comes out there.’ There was something like a large locker which connected to the bottom of the tank via some sort of rectangular duct and a few pipes. ‘The thing’s pretty fast, but it needs a few seconds to clean up the product, dry it, and recycle the wash-off. Then the hatch will open and– Okay, diagnostics are all green, might as well show you. Yliaster, execute pattern “test one.”’ There was no voice, but a display lit up with a dial-like progress indicator, a segmented circle which began to fill in remarkably quickly.

‘You’re calling the AI Yliaster?’ Fox asked. A few seconds in and the dial was supplemented by a countdown timer flicking rapidly down in hundredths of a second.

‘Had to call it something,’ Jackson replied. ‘Asking “Yliaster” to process something in this house will direct the command straight here.’

‘We’ve put in a number of standard patterns converted over to the new format,’ Terri said as the counter ticked down through fifteen seconds. ‘And there’s a simple conversion program for most existing patterns if you buy in anything new.’

‘The patterns are different then?’ Fox asked.

‘This thing has different source stock, more basic. It needs to manufacture materials from a lower level so it needs instructions for that. Luckily, it’s generally a basic conversion job, pulling in material production instructions from a library.’

With a click, the hatch on the locker levered open and Fox looked inside. She grinned. ‘Can I take it out?’

‘Of course,’ Terri replied, also grinning. ‘Should be dry.’

Fox reached in and took out one of the bodysuits she liked to wear in a deep, iridescent purple. It was dry on the outside, but she checked the inside as well, and then the seams. Except that there were no seams: it looked like the entire garment had been formed in one piece, perfectly. ‘You want this to examine or something?’

‘No. Free gift for the first-time user.’ Terri glanced at her father. ‘Production rate seemed to be about right.’

‘It did. I’ll pull up one of the patterns I need for the detective assistance units and give it a more extensive test. This is looking good. Well done, Teresa.’

‘It wasn’t all me, you know? You created this thing, and Shell Marchant and her team did a lot of the work. I just ironed out–’

‘A problem no one else was able to.’

‘Huh.’ Terri did not look like she wanted the praise, but was more or less accepting it. ‘We’d better thank Kit then. We would have taken a Hell of a lot longer to figure it out without her.’

Kit’s avatar appeared, smiling, beside Fox. ‘Thank you, Miss Martins. I was happy to be of assistance. Might I ask if there is sufficient space in the server room here for my machine?’

‘I assumed we’d install you upstairs,’ Fox said before anyone else could reply. ‘I made sure there was the right power and data feeds available in the lounge area. I’m not having you sharing space with all the other systems. You are my gorgeous assistant, remember?’

‘Oh.’ Kit preened a little and looked embarrassed, and Fox grinned at her.

And Terri suddenly looked quite serious. ‘There is something I wanted to ask, Fox. Something I want to do. I’ve talked to Poppa about it and I thought… I’d like you to join us.’

‘Doing what?’ Fox asked. ‘Where?’

‘I want to go down to Dallas on Saturday. I want to see the place again, close it off, end it. It’s the anniversary…’

Fox nodded. ‘I know. Okay. Okay, I’ll go. Who are we taking down?’

‘Now that you’ll be there,’ Jackson said, ‘I can arrange it that it’s just us. We’ll take a few security frames with us, one of my faster transports.’ He grinned. ‘We can take turns on the piloting.’

‘Leave the security to me then,’ Fox told him. ‘Otherwise Ryan is going to have a fit.’

16th June.

Marie was not as keen to move back into her newly refitted apartment as one might have expected, but move she did. She was there with Fox and Sam when the Palladium facilities people who had been holding her belongings in storage turned up to put them back.

Technically, Sam was only there to make sure all the registrations had worked and the security system knew who he was, but he put his back into shifting things around for Marie before he had to get ready for an engagement in the late afternoon.

It was when they were basically finished with Marie’s rooms and Fox was starting to consider checking her own rooms, after a break for some lunch, that Belle made her presence known.

‘I just got a request for telepresence from someone called Belle,’ Marie said, frowning in the middle of a slump onto her sofa.

‘That’s the house AI,’ Fox said. ‘Terri mentioned it, but it wasn’t up and running when I was here last.’ Accepting the request which had appeared in her own visual field, Fox got her first look at what was, basically, the house’s avatar. ‘Terri designed you, didn’t she?’

Belle was a little shorter than Fox, slim, very upright with a modest chest, slim waist, and wider hips. She had a narrow face framed by powder-blue hair which fell to her shoulders with a pronounced parting. Her lips were full and curved, her nose long and straight, and she had arched eyebrows over large, blue eyes. Blue was a theme: her nails were painted in blue, her eyelids shaded in blue, and she wore a dark blue skirt suit that dropped to mid-shin, with a white, collarless blouse and blue, kitten heels. She looked, Fox thought, like a rather prim, slightly sexy secretary, standing there with one leg slightly bent and her hands clasped in front of her.

‘Good afternoon. I am Belle, MarTech Technologies Lares dash five nine seven Series AI, prototype BL. Along with your MarTech Services GL Series building management AI, I will be taking care of you at whatever level of service you require.’ She had a soft but firm voice, a little throaty. ‘Miss Martins was the principal project engineer in charge of my production, yes.’

‘You’re a prototype?’ Sam asked, settling down beside the now seated Marie.

‘I am the twelfth beta series prototype of the Lares dash five nine seven AIs. Miss Martins said to assure you that I am the fourth bug-free version, the first with full functionality enabled.’

‘According to Terri,’ Fox said, ‘Belle is the public face for the house. Handles security, basic housekeeping functions, comms management, net searches, and she’ll act as your social secretary, if you want.’

‘I also have basic accounting skills, language packages for Mandarin, Spanish, and Japanese, and loadable skill packages for computer security, cooking, criminology, materials design, medical diagnosis, and a number of data gathering methods. My “Instanced Mind” system allows me to interact, individually, with up to one hundred individuals or carry out a similar number of mentally intensive tasks, though performance is reduced when handling more than ten.’ It was all delivered in such a matter-of-fact tone, like a sales presentation for a toaster.

‘Well,’ Marie said, ‘I pretty much use LifeWeb for my social stuff. I keep my calendar on there, contacts, the works.’

‘I am able to access LifeWeb data, Miss Shaftsbury, with your permission, of course, and I can assist in managing it. One function I can perform is to ensure that all members of the household know of scheduling conflicts.’

‘I’ll have Javen connect to you,’ Sam said. ‘Coordinate my calendars with him, business and personal. It would be useful to know when people are here or out, or just busy.’

‘Kit will connect up and handle that when we get her server over tomorrow,’ Fox said. ‘I hope you two are going to get on. I assume you’re a class four?’ Kit appeared, peering at the other avatar with a slightly wary look.

‘The Kitsune dash five nine two AI is a “sister” of my series,’ Belle stated, smiling. ‘Some of my code was created for the Kitsune. The generic failure of the Kitsune instancing mechanism led to its reengineering into my “Instanced Mind” technology. Miss Martins did mention that your AI, Miss Meridian, had resolved that problem.’

‘Kit is unique,’ Fox replied, smiling. ‘And you can cut that “Miss Meridian” thing. It’s Fox.’

‘As you prefer, Fox.’

Kit wrinkled her nose a little and vanished. A second later, Fox heard, ‘I’m not sure I like her. She looks bossy,’ in her head.

‘Give her a chance,’ Fox replied silently. ‘Oh, and find out what “lares” means.’ Aloud she said, ‘I say we hit the kitchen and see what we can find to eat.’

‘I’m not sure what I’ve got in…’ Marie said, starting to her feet.

‘Both kitchens are fully stocked,’ Belle said, a smile touching her lips. ‘We made sure of that.’

Fox gave a shrug. ‘Palladium is a full-service security provider.’

~~~

There was only one access to Fox’s floor and that was via the back stairs which ran up from the basement to the roof. That led out onto a hallway which gave access to four rooms: lounge, bedroom, bathroom, and a large office. Fox had decided to recycle most of her apartment furniture and start from scratch, and she was checking on the results.

The office was modern, but it held on to Fox’s theme for the place, which was art deco. There was a desk, solid and blocky with four drawers down each of the pedestals at the sides and a vanity board at the back. It was pale, veneered, synthetic wood with a comfortable, leather-backed desk chair with looping curls for arms set behind it. The walls were painted a soft green and were largely blank. Another, similar chair sat against the wall beside the desk, out of the way. The office would be used primarily for virtual meetings and what Fox needed in it was space.

The lounge was big, the powder-blue walls gave it an even more spacious feeling, and there were three fairly large windows, rectangular ones which was not that thematic, but changing that would have meant rebuilding the walls. She had found a good pattern for a soft, comfortable sofa with a scrolled back, and there were two matching chairs. Those were set around a low table, but the basic idea was to have a communal sort of sitting area which faced a wall where vids could be displayed. There was also a dining table with six chairs from a beautifully styled pattern she had found.

Fox grinned as she saw it. ‘That turned out well,’ she said.

Kit appeared at her side, looking the same way, though she could really only see what Fox saw at the moment. ‘I believe your selections were all very good.’

‘You compiled the shortlists.’

‘Our selections then, though I admit I have no particular opinion on aesthetics. This is pleasing. Calming, I think.’

‘Uh-huh, let’s try the bedroom.’ Fox crossed the hall and found herself in a room with walls painted a strong red featuring a large bed in dark wood with scrolled head and footboards. There was a dresser, a wardrobe, and a chest of drawers, all in dark wood and designed to match the bed. ‘Uh-huh, that’s about right.’

‘It’s quite dark,’ Kit commented.

‘The lighting rig can brighten it up a lot, but it’s designed for sleeping. And other bedroom activities, obviously. The red’s supposed to promote… bedroom activities, but the dark is for the sleeping.’

‘I shall remember that phrasing. It’s got something like poetry in it.’

‘Smart ass.’ Fox opened the bedroom’s interior door and stepped into the bathroom. There was another door leading out onto the hall, and a boxed-off area at the back which housed the toilet behind a third door. And there was a sink, a full-sized mirror, a big whirlpool bath, and a walk-in shower. ‘I’ve never had a bath in my apartment before. Been in hot tubs at hotels a couple of times. Be fun to try it out. Terri says it’s relaxing.’

‘This one has a sonic massage system built in. It should be very relaxing. And I believe the shower should meet your needs.’

‘I shall reserve judgement until I’ve tried it, like the bath.’

‘Where will I be situated?’

Fox flashed her a grin and went out into the hall, returning to the lounge. ‘I guess that’s the right phrase, but I don’t tend to think of you as that box.’ Walking over to the far wall at the side of the seating area, Fox found a box set low on the wall and popped it open to reveal a connector socket. ‘Here we go. I figured you could sit over here and then your server will be with us when we’re sitting here.’

‘Thank you, Fox, that was very thoughtful.’ Kit beamed, always so child-like when she was very happy. It was a quirk of personality which could be a little disturbing at times.

‘Not that it really makes a difference. Like I said, you’re not in the box. You’re… wherever you are.’ Fox pointed at where she perceived Kit to be. ‘You’re there.’

‘I am currently running on a quantum processor in your right forearm.’ Kit, in turn, pointed to a spot around the middle of Fox’s forearm. ‘I am there. I am software running on a complex, multi-layered processor architecture, in there.’

‘That, my dear young AI, is like saying that I am just a lot of electrons buzzing around in some soggy, grey jelly up here.’ Fox tapped her head to emphasise the point. ‘No one is just that. Not in my philosophy anyway. There are some people I’ve met who are less, but most are more. And so are you. And also, this is getting very preachy and I never honestly thought I’d say something like that to an AI.’

‘Well then, I shall attempt to assimilate your philosophy and I am very pleased to have expanded your view of artificial minds. That was a little pompous, wasn’t it?’

Fox shrugged. ‘You’ve a right, I got preachy.’

18th June.

The bath was relaxing. Fox lay sprawled in the hot water, eyes closed and arms on the side of the tub, with a glass of cold, white wine beside her. The water swirled around her as the jets pushed it, giving a constantly shifting pattern of heat across her body. There was also the inaudible pulse of the sonic massage system, which seemed to be trying its best to relax tense muscles. But none of it was entirely working.

Marie had said she would come up to Fox’s rooms once she had completed her acting exercises for the day, and Fox had really forgotten about it, but was not displeased when she heard the girl’s voice. ‘So, this is how the other half bathes.’

‘No, this is meant to be relaxing. If I want to wash, I still take a shower.’

‘Huh. Kit said it was okay if I came in…’

‘Of course it is.’

‘You know… You don’t look that relaxed.’

Fox sighed. ‘I’m going to Dallas with Jackson and Terri tomorrow. It’s three years since the operation there. I think Terri’s hoping we can put it all behind us now.’

‘You’re not so sure?’

‘I… She might be right. Maybe this is the closure we need. The loose ends were tied up in February.’

‘That business when she was kidnapped again? I saw it on the news.’ The water shifted, currents changing direction, as Marie slipped into the water. Fox smiled at the soft sigh which followed.

‘Yeah. The survivors of Dallas tried to pull the same stunt, basically, with a little added revenge. There are still a couple of survivors, but they’re locked up and they won’t be out for a long time. And putting them away helped, but it didn’t get rid of everything. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get rid of it all. I’m not sure I should be able to, or want to.’

‘Well, I doubt anyone wants to forget it, but you can forgive yourself for it.’

‘Forgive myself? Oh, survivor’s guilt. I think that may be Terri’s problem more than mine. She was kept alive while all the rest of the staff were killed. They wanted a single hostage, and they knew she was going to be there. Jackson Martins’ daughter was all they needed, so everyone else died.’

‘Damn. That must have really hurt her.’

‘It did, but it made her more determined that they shouldn’t die in vain. There was no way UA were going to get what they wanted. Dallas hardened her, according to Jackson. I’d never met her before then, but she was supposedly easier-going, less inclined to work her ass off into the evening. She went from Terri the intern, dipping her toes in various areas of MarTech to see what fitted, to one of Jackson’s smartest AI researchers in two years. I think it was mostly to make sure United Anarchy didn’t win.’

There was silence for a few seconds and then Marie said, ‘That sonic vibration thing is doing really weird things to me.’

Chuckling, Fox brought up the controls in-vision, selected the massage component, and raised the amplitude. She could feel the change, feel the soft vibrations throbbing in her muscles. ‘How’s that?’

‘That’s… uh… I think I could come in this after a few minutes.’

Fox lifted herself and slid across the tub to settle between Marie’s thighs, hands sliding up the limbs and spreading them further. ‘I think that that’s too long and want to hear you screaming sooner.’ Fox’s fingers found their target and started circling, like sharks.

‘I can get behind that,’ Marie said. Apparently the prey was not too worried about being eaten.

Airborne over the Southern Protectorate, 19th June.

They could have made the trip a lot faster if they had decided to take another pilot with them. Since they were determined not to, they were being good, and though everyone got a chance at flying the jet, it was Fox who was to handle the take-off and landing, and they were keeping the speed subsonic. At its top speed, the personal jet could have covered the 2,200-kilometre distance to Dallas in under an hour, but as it was, it took more than two.

And it was not the most exciting of views for a lot of the trip. They crossed into the Southern Protectorate just south of Lexington in what had been Kentucky. Visible habitation had been thinning for a while, but it tailed off faster as they arced south-west, passing to the north of the ruins of Nashville. Here, the depopulation was primarily due to the unpredictability of the weather. Tornados had all but obliterated Nashville while further south there were tornados and violent storms which came up out of the Gulf of Mexico. Florida was depopulated because much of it was under water.

By the time they were passing Memphis and heading into what had been Arkansas, the effects of water were more obvious, both the lack and the excess. Here the topsoil had been eroded by flash floods and periods of extended drought. The land below them was bleak, a dirty yellow-brown that seemed to have coated the whole landscape in silt.

‘Do you think they’ll ever get this land back?’ Fox asked as the navigation system said they were entering Texas airspace. Jackson had been running things, but they were approaching their destination and it was time for Fox to take over.

‘Yes,’ Jackson replied. ‘We’re seeing some favourable results in Africa now. I don’t expect to be alive when it happens though.’

‘Cheery thought.’ Fox slipped into the second seat in the cockpit and took over the controls. ‘Head back and keep Terri company. You can launch the two guard frames when we’re down.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Jackson replied, smirking as he pulled his gangly legs out of the foot well. ‘I’ll have them airborne as soon as possible.’

‘Just remember, no one even opens a door until we’re sure it’s clear. Some of the gangs out here would just love to get their hands on us and this jet.’

‘We’re both aware of the danger, Fox. Don’t worry.’

Fox was worried. She would have preferred a military aircraft, more weapons, or not being there, but she realised that it was all, primarily, about not especially wanting to see the place again and she had decided that maybe Terri had something. Maybe coming back and settling some ghosts would be a good thing. Checking the flight plan, she started the descent toward what was left of MarTech Dallas.

~~~

‘I’m getting nothing larger than a cat out there,’ Jackson said as Fox made her way back into the passenger cabin from the cockpit. ‘Nothing on radar or infrared.’

Fox nodded, picking up an assault rifle which Terri had put out ready for her. ‘Put the frames on an orbital perimeter search.’ She began checking the rifle, popping the magazine to visually check the load.

‘I did check that thing out when I took it out of the rack,’ Terri said, her lips twitching.

‘Yeah, well, ever since this place, I like to do a check over any weapon I have to use which doesn’t spend all its time with me. It’s mildly paranoid, but after all the jams we had thanks to Marshall…’

‘That,’ Jackson said, ‘is an all-electromagnetic feed. Gauss rifle mounted over an electromagnetic grenade launcher. It won’t jam.’

Fox smiled at him. ‘I know. Mildly paranoid, remember?’ Slapping the magazine back in place, she walked to the rear cabin door and punched the pair of buttons which unsealed and opened it. And the heat rolled in and hit them like a wall. ‘I hope everyone remembered their antiperspirant.’

‘Unfortunately, this aircraft doesn’t have a shower,’ Jackson commented. ‘However, the atmospheric analysis is clear, dust levels are low.’

Fox put on an anti-glare visor and started out of the hatch as the steps locked in place. She felt sweat break out almost immediately under the harsh glare of the sun, but she had selected a material for her bodysuit which drew fluid away from her skin and had dispensed with a jacket. ‘Make sure your arms are covered,’ she said before starting down to the concrete of the landing strip.

As with MarTech East Africa, the Dallas facility had had its own landing strip, a perimeter wall, and a fence surrounding both the bunker and the airfield. From the looks of it, a tornado, probably several of them, had torn the fence apart in the past three years, but the wall looked to be standing. On the other hand, Fox could see a gate to the east which was open or down so they had minimal security. The best she could hope for was that it limited where anyone might come from if their arrival had been noticed.

If they had been noticed, it would likely be by people living in the city, forty klicks to the south-west. The bunker was not actually in Dallas, but outside the major urban area, set between the Ray Hubbard and Lavon lakes, or what was left of them. The two big bodies of water were at a higher level now than they would be in a few weeks. Spring rains had washed in, bringing more silt in with them, further clogging the rivers, but deepening the sluggish, algae-laden waters.

Using the enhancement features on her visor, Fox could see the buildings of the city in more detail. Nothing much had changed, but one of the taller structures had given up fighting and collapsed. She knew there were people out there: anarchist and survivalist groups fitted out with biomods to survive the harsh conditions. They found it easier to handle the tornados and storms when they could have a solid roof over their heads and there were structures in the city which would provide good cover, if you avoided the ones which might fall on you.

Fox checked behind her and found Jackson and Terri carrying a box between them down the steps. ‘You two okay with that?’

‘It’s not heavy,’ Jackson replied, ‘and I’d prefer you had your hands free for that rifle.’

‘Paranoia, Jackson?’ Fox flashed him a grin.

‘I believe it’s only paranoia if they aren’t out to get you.’

‘Reasonable.’ Fox started off across the grass-broken concrete.

Like in Africa, the Dallas bunker had been a low, concrete structure on the surface with extensive underground facilities. Here the ‘low and smooth’ build had been particularly important because of the danger of high winds. Here the communications antennae had been housed inside a structural plastic shell, but it and the equipment it had protected were all gone now. Fox doubted the winds could have shattered the dome, which probably meant that it had been cracked by some large chunk of wind-blown debris before being ripped open. Luckily, the tornados tended to stick to early evening, when the temperature was even higher, so arriving before midday was fairly safe.

Unlike Africa, large sections of the structures here had collapsed in. Toward the middle of the buildings, there was a pit maybe three or four metres deep and now filling up with silt. It marked the main elevator shafts which had collapsed in on themselves as the bombs Fox had planted had torn the underground base apart. The main entrance building with its ground vehicle bay was still standing and fairly intact. Fox walked toward it remembering the last time she had seen it: three years earlier when she had been running out of it leaving death and destruction behind her.

There was a side door which looked like it had been broken open and Fox switched her visor to infrared before pushing through and checking the room. It had been a reception area and there was still a counter for receiving visitors. Behind it was a set of double doors leading to a corridor filled with concrete rubble.

‘Looks clear,’ Fox said.

Jackson entered carrying a large lamp. ‘Yes, this should do. It’ll keep the winds off for a while at least.’

Terri followed, dragging the crate they had brought over. ‘Yeah, this should do. To be honest, though, now I’m here, I’ve no idea what to do…’

Turning, Jackson flipped open the box and pulled out a couple more lamps, checking the floor by them as he moved over to the reception desk. Infrared was good for finding many things, but a dormant snake might be missed. ‘We have the flowers to lay. It’s clichéd, but it’s something to show we haven’t forgotten them. And the thing they died for has finally come to fruition.’

‘Yes,’ Terri said, her voice soft. ‘Finally.’

The first order of business, which Fox wanted it done quickly because it would take time and make noise so it was best handled first, was the plaque they had had made. Jackson had actually programmed the Yliaster unit in Sam’s house to make it since that seemed appropriate. It was a simple, plastic rectangle which had been manufactured to look like brass with letters cut into it. It said ‘Never Forgotten’ and they fixed it to the wall behind the reception desk, next to the door, with bolts which had to be drilled into the concrete.

With that done, Jackson and Terri took bouquets of roses from the box and placed them under the plaque. Both of them looked like they wanted to say something but could not really come up with anything that worked. Terri gave the plaque a frown and then swallowed, and said, ‘At least I can say now that none of you died for no reason.’ She looked like she might say more, and then shook her head and stepped back, looking at Fox.

Fox took her own gift of flowers from the box and walked around the reception desk. There was, in fact, only one flower in Fox’s hand: a single red and gold tulip which she placed on the ground and stepped back. ‘When I first met Pieter and asked about the accent, he said he was Dutch. And I said, “That’s clogs and cheese and tulips, right?” And he laughed, and he bought me tulips after that.’ She looked through the broken glass of the door at the rubble. ‘I finally got them all, Pieter. Mission over. We can move on to the next.’ She grinned. ‘You have no idea how hard it was to find that damn flower.’

There was a rumble of subdued laughter from Jackson and Terri, but Fox was moving again, picking up her rifle from where it was resting on the counter. ‘We need to go. There’s something on radar moving up from the south-west.’

‘They’ve got a ground vehicle?’ Jackson asked, connecting through to the jet and the feeds from the airborne guardian frames.

‘Looks like it. I’ve tasked one of the units to give us a closer look, but we should get that crate back on the jet.’

By the time they were pulling the door shut, the cyberframe was in visual range of the ugly-looking truck that appeared to be carrying maybe ten men in outfits which would have looked right for some sort of post-apocalyptic survival movie. The truck itself had no hood and then Jackson looked over the feed from the frame and said, ‘They’ve adapted a gasoline engine to run on alcohol. Clever for someone like that.’

‘They’re clever enough. Most of the gangs have at least basic internet via those high-altitude, wide-area drone relays. A lot of them are pretty busy on the anarchy meme sites.’

‘They’re going to break in and mess this up as soon as we’re gone, aren’t they?’ Terri said.

‘No,’ Fox replied. A second later, on the camera feed, the trails from four missiles could be seen lancing out in the direction of the truck. ‘That should discourage them.’

‘What’s left of them anyway,’ Jackson said.

Part Two: The Future of Murder

New York Metro, 20th June 2060.

Fox sat in a room filled with monitors and sensor data. The screens showed the feeds from cameras all over the house; they floated, rearranging themselves in space as Fox decided to look somewhere else. She had multispectral views of every room in the house, the roof, and the outside walls. She had feeds from all the security monitor systems giving times for last entry and exit through both doors, along with environmental data and a schematic map showing the location of everyone in the building.

Right now, that was her since she had waited until Marie had gone out running before checking out the virtual room the house’s security systems fed into. Using the security feeds was something Fox planned to do only when she really needed to, but checking it out when no one was around seemed like a good idea.

‘Everything meets your requirements?’ Belle appeared, all prim and proper, with her hands clasped before her and her heels together.

Before Fox could answer, Kit appeared in her own more proper outfit and glasses, stood in precisely the same posture, and said, ‘Everything appears to be adequate.’

Fox tried to keep the smirk off her virtual face. ‘It seems quite complete, Belle. Thank you. Have you two sorted out this calendar synchronisation thing?’

‘We have,’ Belle said. ‘Kit has been most accommodating. The fact that we are both MarTech AIs obviously helps. It has been less trivial to produce a reasonable policy for Miss Shaftsbury. She has a haphazard view of maintaining her social data.’

‘She’s young, and she’ll likely rearrange things when she starts working. Have you access to Sam’s schedule?’

‘Yes. I have constructed an aggregate calendar accessible by all of you, which shows when you can expect to be alone, or to be able to find one of the others. However, it currently says that Miss Shaftsbury should be in when, in fact, she has gone out.’

‘You’ll need to expect changes in plan. Doesn’t Marie use that LifeFit thing? I think if you monitored that, you’d be able to follow her plans for running and expected time to return.’

Belle raised an eyebrow and then turned, raising a hand in an unnecessary gesture to open a new display window. This one showed a local street map and an indicator showing Marie’s current position. ‘Thank you, Fox, I can do that and follow her. And she will be re-entering the house approximately…’

On one of the displays, there was movement and Fox more or less automatically pulled the screen forward to see Marie bouncing into her lounge in very short shorts and a cropped athletic top. Before Fox could think to push the display away, she got to see Marie peeling off her top as she headed for the bathroom. And then there was movement on the basement bathroom display which Fox studiously ignored.

‘And this is why I don’t want to start coming in here unless I need to,’ Fox said. ‘I could turn into a real voyeur.’

‘You have seen Marie naked before,’ Kit pointed out. ‘Quite close up, in fact.’

‘It’s not quite the same when I’m spying on her through the house sensors. It’s probably a human thing, don’t worry about it.’ Closing her eyes, Fox dropped out of the virtual world and into the real one. Belle and Kit were both standing over her when she looked up.

‘I’m receiving data on the delegates registering for the conference,’ Belle said. ‘Registration has now opened for those arriving early. I believe that you are already registered as part of the MarTech contingent.’

‘She is,’ Kit said. ‘I have the registration pack. I am also monitoring the registrations going through. I do not expect to see anyone we know since those registering on site are primarily the out-of-town political delegates. However, you never know.’

‘True,’ Fox said. ‘Keep an eye out for UNTPP people.’

‘Captain Deveraux is pre-registered,’ Kit said.

‘Fair enough, but keep an eye out for others.’ She frowned as she saw Kit’s eyes widen. ‘Something wrong, Kit?’

‘Two names just came up in the feed,’ Kit replied.

‘Oh yes,’ Belle said, smiling, ‘Jonathan M. and Andrea Meridian. From their ages, I would assume they are your parents, Fox.’

‘Whom she hasn’t spoken to in over ten years.’

‘Oh…’

Fox’s frown deepened. ‘Could you confirm that, Kit? I mean, my parents in New York for a conference on law and order is… unlikely.’

Kit nodded and there was a barely perceptible pause before she said, ‘Confirmed.’ Just to be sure, she pulled up the identity stills which were being used for their conference badges and displayed them for Fox.

‘Yeah… Yeah, that’s them.’ Fox stared at the pictures. Neither of the people in them was particularly old: Andrea Meridian had been just twenty-two when she had given birth to their only child. They were now fifty-four and fifty. Neither had had cosmetic work done, or anything major anyway, and his carefully trimmed, short hair was greying from mid-brown. Andrea was a redhead, with long, copper-coloured, cornrow braids and no sign of grey. Jonathan remained a handsome man, well-built, strong, used to outdoor work and suited to it. People said Fox’s eyes came from him, but his were bluer. Andrea remained a good-looking woman with a face not unlike her daughter’s: sharp, finely chiselled with a narrow chin. Andrea’s eyebrows arched a little more and her nose was a little longer, and her eyes were green. When Fox had left home, Andrea had started working in the fields with her husband, and it was telling: she looked fit. ‘They look like they’re doing okay.’

‘Should I contact them?’ Kit asked.

‘No. Not yet anyway. Let’s see if they even know I’m here before we go organising family reunions.’

‘I think they know. Your name is sprinkled liberally through the conference documents. If they don’t know you are part of Palladium by now, they soon will.’

Fox grimaced. ‘Oh… This should be fun.’

~~~

‘Fox, are you seeing–’ Kit stopped as she realised that Fox’s attention was on a news feed report on IB-62.

‘I see it, Kit,’ Fox said, her attention still on the report.

‘…search the eastern side of the Manhattan Conservation District this afternoon. Lauren Coolidge, wife of Clinton Coolidge, failed to return home from a daily run yesterday. A spokesman for precinct eighteen indicated that they had data from her LifeFit track and were searching the route she had taken after leaving the family home on Second Avenue.’

‘Kit, put Mrs Coolidge in the murder room and start running a background analysis, please.’

Kit nodded. ‘She is not, yet, dead and may be unrelated. The last suspected death is in Berlin.’

‘Uh-huh. Mark her as unconfirmed or something, but start compiling the data. Start with the LifeFit stuff and get the police search pattern from the media reports. My gut says that he’s moved back to New York, but we can hope I’m just nervous about the conference.’

Kit tilted her head a little as the news feed began recounting the political history of Clinton George Coolidge while largely ignoring his wife. ‘I do not have guts, but I am having difficulty believing that there will be a happy ending for Mrs Coolidge.’

~~~

Alice Vaughn had been to Sam’s house before, but she had not seen the updated version except virtually, and she looked around with interest as she sat down on one of the sofas in the lounge beside her boss, Garth Eaves.

‘It’s turned out well,’ Vaughn said.

‘We didn’t change the decoration much on this floor,’ Fox replied. ‘Felix liked wood and it does work quite well, so this is mostly down to his preferences. It’s the kitchen that got the big revamp.’

‘And what an improvement!’ Marie said as she entered from the hall with a tray of drinks. ‘The old kitchen was… Well, it was getting old.’

‘Just put those down, Marie,’ Fox said, ‘and take a seat. You’re not the maid today. You’re the head product demonstrator.’

The redhead grimaced. ‘Don’t say that. I’ll get nervous.’

Ryan Jarvis gave her a smile. ‘Don’t be. Terri and Jackson have built this thing to let my lowest-grade security people pretend to be detectives. You should do fine. Are those two turning up?’

‘They’re here,’ Fox replied. ‘They went straight down to the fabricator to check out the latest build.’

‘And they return triumphant,’ Jackson said as he walked in carrying a harness-like structure which looked a little like it had been cobbled together from the spare parts of a dozen cyberframes and an old rucksack. ‘We have here what we hope will be our demo model. We thought we would do a fitting, just to be sure our young model can get it on.’

‘And interface to the on-board,’ Terri added. ‘I’ve got Belle loading the operating software so we can check the basic connectivity.’

‘You’re not going to production with that though?’ Eaves asked. He was looking a little sceptical.

‘It needs tidying up,’ Jackson agreed. ‘All the wires will get sealed up under a lightly armoured skin. We want it light. It’s not a riot harness. The primary aim is to have the sensor heads in good positions. Considering that we are presenting “the future of police technology,” I think having something which looks experimental may well work for us.’

Eaves gave a nod. ‘Could be. As long as Ryan’s grunts won’t get something with that many loose wires.’

‘None are loose. They’re just… not tidy. Marie, let’s see if this fits.’

Marie, dressed in the blouse and skirt she generally wore when doing her housemaid thing, got to her feet and stepped closer, and then stood there while Jackson and Terri wrapped her in electronics, locked straps in place, and then adjusted them to improve the fit, and generally fussed over her.

‘The straps and fixings will need to be rationalised,’ Jackson said, though his tone had an absent quality which suggested that this was more a note to self than something for external consumption. ‘I wasn’t sure how much freedom was needed.’

‘I think the arrangement’s good,’ Terri said. ‘It’ll allow people to decide on a best way to set it up for easy fitting.’

‘A point… That’s not too uncomfortable over the chest, Marie?’

There was, in fact, little covering her chest. A sensor head was mounted fairly high up on her chest, extending out far enough that she would have needed quite abnormal breasts before anything was obscured. Below that there was just a thick belt which looked like it had battery packs attached to it.

‘It’s fine,’ Marie said. ‘Actually, it feels quite comfortable.’ The back was fairly rigid and hooked over her shoulders where it was padded to spread the weight. The waist belt was firm enough to settle more of the weight over her hips, which also helped.

‘All right,’ Jackson said, smiling. ‘I think we can worry about the ladar and terahertz scanning head another time. That’s in the back on an extensible arm. For now, we just need to see whether you can interface to the basic systems.’

‘Belle’s given me the control package and I’m running it now… Oh!’

‘Everything okay?’

‘Fine, I think. I have all this data and two screens showing views in front and behind me.’

‘What kind of data?’ Jarvis asked.

‘Uh… I’ve got a task flowchart telling me what I could do from here, some basic analysis stuff about everyone in the room, estimates on the room size, air pressure and temperature, humidity…’

‘We may tweak the interface to cut out some of the data unless it’s asked for,’ Terri said. ‘Maybe a little overwhelming.’

Marie grimaced. ‘And no one should ever look at the place they live in under alternate spectrums. I’m going to have to clean in here all over again.’

Jackson chuckled and started taking the harness off Marie. ‘Enough for now. Clearly we have a working prototype. When’s the demonstration?’

Vaughn put down her glass and sat up. ‘Tuesday, two pm, right after lunch. We have rehearsal time booked tomorrow at seven in the evening. Marie, it would be useful if you could be there, but it’s not an absolute requirement. Your part is more adlibbed than anything.’

Marie, now disentangled from the harness, settled herself back beside Jarvis. ‘I’ll turn up. I’ll get to see the set and how my part should fit in with the others.’

‘That sounded solidly professional. So, you’ll be there with Jackson, Terri, and Fox for those two events. Otherwise you’ll be on the stand. After the presentation, you’ll be wearing the harness.’ Marie gave Vaughn a nod and the manager nodded back, adding a smile. ‘Fox, you’ll be needed for the debate on Thursday afternoon. David is flying in for that. There’s no script there, just an agenda.’

Fox grimaced. ‘Yeah, the agenda being “privatise policing across the country.”’

‘Certainly the discussion thereof. I’ll be primarily on our stand with Ryan to handle enquiries. Obviously we’ll be hoping to get off there to look around once in a while so we would appreciate some relief now and then. Everyone has tickets for the Thursday night conference banquet. Marie, you are not obliged to come, and you certainly don’t have to wear the harness, but we got you a ticket.’

‘Oh! Thank you,’ Marie said, smiling. ‘I’ll have to find something suitable to wear.’

‘For a conference on law and order that has a “banquet” on the last night,’ Eaves said, ‘I’d recommend armoured underwear and the sexiest battlesuit you can find. Not that my wife will be taking that advice.’

‘Inappropriate behaviour is likely to be up on a standard conference,’ Terri agreed.

‘I’ll stick with Fox,’ Marie said.

Fox shrugged. ‘Fine by me. I’ll be armed.’

21st June.

There was, of course, chaos on the Monday morning. The event was due to kick off at eleven with opening speeches in the main auditorium, followed by an early lunch with a meet-and-greet. The serious lectures would be opening up after lunch, the exhibition hall as soon as the opening ceremony was done, and Fox was avoiding as much as possible of the noise and horror of late registration by helping to make sure the Palladium stand was up and ready. She suspected that she was just getting in Alice Vaughn’s way.

They had put the whole thing together rapidly, but had still catered to as many potential visitors as possible. Implants and wearables were ubiquitous, but not universal, so there were v-tagged displays all over the place, but also a large screen showing a video. There was a world map showing Palladium’s coverage capabilities, and that was interactive if you had the equipment, but it was there and visible if not. And, of course, there was Marie and three other assistants. It gave them an even mix of genders, and enough coverage for peaks with slack to allow people breaks when the pressure eased off. Everyone, including the ‘VIP’ attendants, as Vaughn called Fox and Jarvis and the rest, had access to a central server which provided all the displays and information on Palladium’s products, services, and policies. Everyone was using the same playbook because they were all, literally, reading from the same script.

Fox was watching the video on the big screen for the seventh time when Vaughn appeared beside her and said, ‘You’re in the way. Go and watch the opening ceremony. Socialise. Come back when you’re not an annoyance.’

‘That’s me told,’ Fox replied, ‘but you never said anything about having to listen to boring speeches. Couldn’t I stand in front of a ganger on Titan armed only with a toothpick instead?’

‘No. Go, watch, consider. People are putting down markers here for the politics over the rest of the week.’

‘I know. That is exactly why I shouldn’t go. All that’ll happen is I’ll have until Thursday afternoon to brood on what they’ve said and how much I want to shoot them. I do have a gun on me, you know?’

‘No shooting the delegates. I don’t want to have to visit you in Rikers.’

Grumbling, possibly because she was not allowed to shoot anyone, Fox headed for the largest of the auditoriums the building boasted. The room was huge and quite full, and the speeches had started so Fox snuck in at the back and joined the collection of other late-arriving souls who were left to stand. She was thankful she had elected to wear sensible, flat shoes with the pinstriped pantsuit and black blouse combo she had decided would work well for the conference. At least most of the conference: she was going to be forced into a dress for the banquet, but that was days away.

Donald Hovering was up at the podium giving one of his rousing law and order speeches. He had been made director of NAPA in 2052 and he had made many such speeches since then. Fox had heard a few of them and concluded that Hovering knew nothing about police work. Not a damn thing. He had to have been a cop at some point, but that had been so long ago that there was nothing left, and he did not really care too much about the vote they were there to discuss because he would still be the director of NAPA, even if NAPA was reduced to a standards body.

Fox looked around. All the delegates, including herself, had a badge clipped to their clothes or hung around their necks. Another of the aids for those without portable computing power, though Fox had to wonder how many of those there were in the room. The badge gave basic data: name, company if there was one, and a picture. Then there was a v-tag which pointed to additional information accessible online. Vaughn had arranged for Fox’s to point to bio and company data.

Hovering was replaced by James Malton, the Senator for the New England administrative region. Malton seemed to be unconcerned but generally against the resolution. Janine Canter for Virginia and West was more anti, but not being too vocal because she could probably see where the current votes were going. Senators were administrative personnel, not elected officials, but they could be removed from office if their views were too far away from the population they advocated for.

It was when Adam Randolf from the Kansas Belt stood up and various parts of the audience got to their feet that Fox noticed a flash of copper hair before it was submerged in the other bodies. Her mother had stood up fast.

‘Mom seems to have become rather more active than she was,’ Fox said silently.

‘Is that not a good thing?’ Kit replied.

‘Maybe. Do a run through the Topeka news feeds. See if you can find anything out about Jonathan and Andrea Meridian.’

‘Of course, Fox.’

Randolf set off with enthusiasm and no apparent indecision about the voting preferences of his constituents. ‘We all know why we’re here. In a little over a month, the resolution to allow full control of local policing by local residents will be on the table. We are all here to show all you metropolitan citizens how determined we are to gain control of our own policing. We will show you we are right to want it.’ And so it went on for about ten minutes. Randolf, if Fox remembered it right, had been in farming for a couple of decades and played the local farmer role to the hilt, even hamming up a thicker accent though the Belt was known for having a barely discernible one. He had always been over-verbose, but enough people liked that homey style to keep him ticking over. Fox figured that if he could get this vote passed and ride the wave right, he would probably be able to hold on to office until his toes curled up.

Neither Mark Tully of the North-West Protectorate nor Madison Sutton of the Southern one took as long as Randolf did, but they were both clued up enough on the few residents of their regions to know that local policing was preferred. Fox was quite sure that any policing would have done: NAPA rarely got involved in anything in the protectorates and no one was going to give them the budget to improve that situation. Being forced to call in NAPA officers for serious crimes meant that few, if any, of them were ever resolved because it took too long for anyone to get around to it. Fox could actually see the situation improving in some areas if they could put together a local force to do the work.

Gary Raffinton getting up to introduce himself and generally say good things about the resolution was something of a surprise. Raffinton was the CEO of Wayden Executive Services and having them up on the stage for the introductory speeches seemed unbalanced. Still, Vaughn had not mentioned it being an issue. It was hardly surprising that Wayden wanted the resolution to pass: they were assuming they could make a lot of money contracting their services to people who suddenly discovered they had to provide their area with a professional police force.

Hovering returned to the podium and started closing things up and Fox decided to make a break for it. Pretty soon everyone would be leaving and there would be chaos as they swarmed off for food and drinks.

‘And you might bump into your parents in the rush,’ Kit pointed out.

‘Another good reason to be elsewhere.’

~~~

‘No, Raffinton’s speech was unscheduled and none of the other companies here were informed he would be on stage.’ Eaves was not looking pleased, but he was not looking especially worried. ‘I’d be more concerned if I hadn’t seen their display stand.’

‘Not impressed?’ Fox asked.

‘They come over more as a paramilitary unit than a police force. I don’t think there’s any attempt at investigative services on show.’

‘They’ll recruit from NAPA. So will we, but we have something to take up the slack. There just aren’t enough trained detectives to meet the needs of that many districts.’

Eaves nodded. ‘I’ll be pushing data like that in some of the panels over the next few days. People are going to vote for this resolution or abstain because they feel it doesn’t affect them. I’m going to make sure they know what they’re getting into when they vote it through.’

‘Rather you than me. Looks like we’re starting to get visitors.’ The hall had had few people walking around it as the mass fell upon lunch like locusts, but now people were starting to thread into the exhibition hall, presumably preferring that to drinks and social networking. Some were bound to be there for the technology more than the politics. Fox saw a couple of precinct 19 cops among the crowd, some of the less politically inclined ones as far as she knew.

Eaves gave a grunt. ‘I need to go get ready for my first panel. Good luck.’

‘Same to you.’

It seemed like luck was not a major requirement since everyone seemed to be filtering through and taking stock of what was there. Fox expected the cops she had seen to fix on something and ask questions later, and she expected that Palladium would be on the list to be talked to. The cops had limited time to look things over, but everyone else had all week.

‘Your parents,’ Kit said into Fox’s head, ‘seem to have been taking a much more obvious role in local politics in their home district.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. Your mother appears to be more prominent than your father, but I found references to and reports of speeches given by both at various meetings. They are very much in favour of the passage of the resolution.’

‘I am really not surprised about that. I’d imagine that they see local people handling the policing of the local area, rather than needing to bring in contractors.’

‘Your mother states that explicitly in an interview on IB-eighty-three.’

‘Kansas Belt News? She was on KBN, huh? Go Mom. KBN is the main news channel for the whole of the Belt. They provide feeds on the area to the metro and national channels. Pretty big to get an interview on there if you’re a no one from Topeka.’

‘It would seem that they are no longer “no one.” Your mother in particular. I have found her on a number of local sites and channels. She has become something of a celebrity in the Topeka area.’

Fox shrugged, mentally. ‘Well, I still think their politics are balls, but at least they finally got off their asses and decided to do something about it.’

‘Perhaps you should stop avoiding them and see what they have to say.’

‘Huh. I somehow doubt I need to go looking for them, but I guess if they haven’t turned up to gawk at their daughter in a suit before Friday, I’ll go find them.’

~~~

Fox and Marie were tired and not entirely thinking straight, and they were running on low blood sugar levels since neither had eaten properly all day, but they were there for the rehearsal. Jackson and Terri were looking brighter, neither having spent a boring day on an exhibition stand. Vaughn was starting to look exhausted, but she was determinedly ploughing through, stepping through the entire proceeding, essentially taking the role of stage director.

And they had an audience: Eaves and Jarvis were there, and Sam had arrived and been passed through security, apparently because Vaughn had got him the pass. He was sitting there in the front row with a slight smile on his face, dressed in a black shirt and suit which made it look a little like he was working. From the way he had greeted Vaughn on arrival, maybe he was.

Fox was a little worried to discover that she was the main presenter for the show. She opened proceedings, gave the overview, and then brought on Jackson to give his ‘technology is a wonderful thing and here’s the clever idea we’ve had now’ speech.

Then Fox would return with Marie and the harness, and Marie would be strapped into it and set to work. Vaughn made sure that everyone knew that they had to have that part of the presentation wrapped by twenty minutes past the hour so that Marie got thirty minutes to do her stuff, and then there would be ten minutes to see the results and take questions.

‘I’ve done this kind of speech so often I can time them to the second,’ Jackson said. ‘Teresa and I have written something I can adjust on the fly if necessary.’

‘Good,’ Vaughn said. ‘Once Marie is working, Fox will introduce Terri to explain the AI and give details of the way it interacts with the wearer.’

The rear wall of the stage was rigged as a projection screen. Attendees could see the details closer if they wished via their implants or wearables, but the screen made it easier to watch the presenter, and Marie, and still see the data being shown. Vaughn ran Terri through the sequence to check the timing, and then moved on to the next part which was Fox and Jackson running through a brief overview of the various cyberframes MarTech was putting together, or already had in use, to handle Palladium’s needs.

‘And that should bring us back to Marie for the finale,’ Vaughn said.

‘What do we do if I can’t figure out whatever it is I’m supposed to figure out?’ Marie asked. ‘I mean, aren’t these demos usually rigged for this kind of thing?’

‘Yes,’ Jackson said flatly, ‘but we don’t need to.’

‘We’ve engineered the puzzle so that you can solve it if you follow the instructions,’ Terri said. ‘In that sense, it’s rigged. There’s no sense in putting something here which Fox couldn’t solve with all of Pythia’s resources. Don’t worry, Marie. It’ll work.’

Fox winced. ‘Well that’s not jinxing it at all.’

22nd June.

Fox scanned over the crowd in the theatre as she walked out to centre stage backed by the Palladium logo on the big screen. She could see a number of cops in the front couple of rows, including Helen Dillan at the front on Fox’s left. She caught a flash of copper hair toward the back, but could not identify the owner.

‘Kit, run over the attendance list and see if they’re here, please.’

‘Of course, Fox,’ Kit replied, but what she immediately did was supply Fox with her first cue card as the noise from the audience died away.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, and members of NAPA,’ Fox began, and there was a rumble of laughter, mostly from the cops, ‘welcome to the Palladium and MarTech presentation on future investigative technology. It looks like about half the audience should know who I am already, but for those who don’t, my name is Tara Meridian and I’m the Chief Investigative Officer of Palladium Security Solutions.’

Checking in-vision that the screen display behind her was transitioning into a slideshow of historical events which were vaguely related to Palladium, Fox gave her virtual card a glance and went on. ‘Palladium was formed in twenty fifty-seven to internalise security for MarTech’s worldwide facilities. It handles facilities and building management in concert with MarTech Services, and it supplies security systems and personnel working with MarTech Technologies and Defence Technologies to do that. However, until I joined the team earlier this year, Palladium had only an ad hoc investigative capability, depending primarily on the basic talents of its security staff. Some of them have done an excellent job in difficult circumstances, but our management team decided that something a little more formal was needed.’

She looked out at the audience and smiled. ‘And obviously I’m a detective on a par with Sherlock Holmes,’ – another rumble of laughter – ‘but even I have my limits. One person can’t cover the world, even the part of it MarTech calls home. More than that, if the resolution this conference was founded around is voted into law, we are about to see a massive change in the way policing is carried out. Even if the metro areas shipped every detective they have out into the protectorates, we would not be able to cover all the ground adequately. Palladium needed a way of easing that burden, and I had a great idea about how to do that.’ She smiled again. ‘Of course, when I mentioned it, it turned out I was slightly behind the times because I have a genius on my board of directors. Let me introduce him to you. Ladies and gentlemen, Jackson Martins.’

There was applause as Jackson walked out from behind the curtained-off area to the left of stage where Marie would be working, and Fox joined it as she reversed off to stage right where Marie was waiting with Terri and the harness. Marie looked nervous, but that kind of worked for the presentation and Terri was looking confident. Fox knew the latter had been tweaking the interface to her new AI for the last few days to make sure it would work well for this event.

‘Everything okay?’ Fox asked, keeping her voice low.

‘I’m nervous,’ Marie replied, ‘but it’s more worry about screwing up the demo.’

‘Which you won’t,’ Terri stated. ‘If I’ve done my job, and I have, you won’t be allowed to screw up as long as you do what the system says.’ She smiled. ‘Poppa’s always been good at making these things sound exciting.’

‘It’s because they excite him,’ Fox replied. ‘He believes in technology. He believes it can make a better world. I’m just glad he doesn’t let that run away with him too often.’

‘Not wishing to make you nervous,’ Kit said, ‘but your parents are in the audience.’

‘Yeah… Thanks, Kit.’

Out on stage, Jackson was winding up his initial talk. ‘It’s a basic fact, at this time anyway, that people like people. Many are finding AIs to be just as good, but most of us like talking to other people, and we certainly want humans dealing with us when we’re faced with serious crime. We want a human there who knows what we’re having to deal with, but we need a human who knows how to handle the situation. What we need here is the best of both worlds and we at MarTech Technologies believe we have a solution for that so simple that anyone can use it.’

That was their cue and Fox emerged from the wings, holding the harness and with Marie following behind in her usual housemaid outfit of plain grey skirt and white blouse. ‘I should point out that this device is still in prototyping,’ Jackson went on, ‘which is why it looks like we built it out of scrap plastic and as many random wires as we could find. We don’t even have a name for it yet, but it works well enough for us to give you a demonstration.’ He took the harness off Fox and stepped aside.

‘Thanks, Jackson,’ Fox said. ‘What we’ve got for you is a demonstration of the basic investigative assistant functions we’ve built into this harness, and to show that anyone can use it, we have Marie Shaftsbury playing the part of our naïve young detective. Marie, what is it you do for a living?’

‘I’m a housekeeper, and I’m training to be an actress,’ Marie replied. Her voice was steady, but she was still looking a little nervous as she stood there waiting to be strapped into the harness.

‘Any theatrical types in the audience looking for their next star, she’s very good. However, you have no experience with crime scenes or detective work, is that right?’

‘I’ve watched a couple of detective shows…’

Fox grinned. ‘Let’s ask our audience. Does that count?’

There was laughter. Someone yelled out, ‘It’s a handicap!’

‘Uh-huh. That sounds about right. Lastly, we’ve made sure that the harness fits you and that you can interface with its computer, but you have not had the chance to practise with it. This is your first attempt at using it in anger. Is that right?’

‘Yes, it is.’ Marie’s little worried grin seemed to sell that one to the audience more than her affirmation.

‘Yes,’ Jackson said, grinning, ‘we are both mad and that confident in our prototype.’ There was laughter as the curtain hiding their stage set was pulled upward.

‘And here we have our test set,’ Fox said. There was a sofa, a chair, and a coffee table. A dummy was slumped over in the chair with a kitchen knife lodged in its back. On the coffee table were two wine glasses, one half-full and the other, nearest the body, empty. There was also a table set to one side with a few extra bits of equipment on it, such as gloves. ‘It seems that someone has come to an unfortunate end. Thankfully, Mister Manny Quin was never much of a talker, but he’s a medical simulation dummy rigged with synthetic flesh and other features which will give a reasonable facsimile of a dead body. We’re going to strap Marie into the harness and give her half an hour to solve the crime. The only cheat here is that we know there is forensic evidence for her to find which will name the killer. Marie, we want a name, and how they did it, and the method is not as obvious as it seems.’

‘Okay,’ Marie replied, and Jackson took her aside to help her into the harness.

‘All right,’ Fox went on. ‘While Marie is busy with that, we’re going to look at how this all ties together and how the harness’s in-built AI is going to help Marie to crack the case. Who better to do that than the woman responsible for creating that AI? Ladies and gentlemen, Teresa Martins.’

As Terri began going over how the AI would direct Marie through her tasks, Fox watched Marie from off-stage. The housemaid and actress stood for several seconds, frowning at the scene with her right index finger tapping on her lips. It gave the impression of thinking rather than being stunned and inactive, and Fox hoped that was what was happening. Then Marie started forward as though to start work, stopped, looked around, and walked over to the table to get some of the plazkin gloves which had been set there for her. She was grinning now, as though pleased with herself and how things were going. Fox figured that if the AI was good enough to make sure she had gloves on before starting work, and Marie was good enough to listen to it, the demo might just work.

It was not as though virtual tutor systems were unheard of. Very basic AIs able to handle the tasks of one or more skills, coupled with v-tag information attached to equipment, parts, and consumables, were capable of guiding a human through various repair jobs and other standard operations. The Army made extensive use of the technology to handle the large variety of different equipment they needed, though skilled technicians were still needed for frontline operations and more complex work. What Terri was attempting with this system was something a little new, however. Forensics equipment could be tagged so that the AI knew how to handle it, but the evidence Marie was being guided to collect was not tagged and not always easy to find. Fox would have normally employed a swarm to go over the scene, but there was not sufficient time for that so the AI was actually taking Marie through a non-standard evidence retrieval routine. Fox hoped that at least some of the cops in the audience would recognise that and be impressed.

As Terri wrapped her presentation, Fox walked out to be joined by Jackson. Fox gave him a grin. ‘Now this is all great, but it’s not the only thing that Palladium has in its arsenal of crime-fighting cyberframes. I’ve seen a few of them, but I happen to know that you’ve been indulging yourself, Jackson. What have we got, and what do we have to look forward to?’

‘I’m glad you asked me that, Tara,’ Jackson replied, ‘because it’s in the script and I wouldn’t know what my next line was otherwise, but also because I have been busy with some new robotics designs, yes.’

‘My father is always happy to show off a new cyberframe,’ Terri said from the wings, and the audience indulged them with some laughter.

Fox took a second to check on Marie, who seemed to be busy with a chemical analysis device and a wine glass. So far so good, it seemed. Marie was starting to look quite pleased with herself, which was either overconfidence or a sign that it was working. As Jackson took Fox through the array of enforcement, patrol, and forensic analysis frames he had put together over the last year or two, Marie’s confidence just got more obvious, and when the presentation was done, Fox turned to look and Marie was standing there with her arms folded, waiting.

‘And it looks like our detective is impatient to give us her findings,’ Fox said. ‘Let’s see how she’s done. Marie, what can you tell me?’

‘Well, I used a chemical spray to reveal the presence of fingerprints on the wine glasses and the knife,’ Marie said. ‘There are only two sets and one of those was easily matched to a Mister Manny Quinn.’

‘Our hapless victim.’

‘Yes. Time of death was determined via room and body temperatures to be two hours ago, during lunch, and it’s fairly obvious that Mister Quinn was stabbed in the back.’

‘That would seem to be the obvious conclusion,’ Fox agreed.

‘However, I wondered about the glasses and how he could have been stabbed like that. The crime scene reconstruction system suggests that the murderer was standing in front of the victim, which means the victim had to be bent over in his chair, just as you see him now. So why would Mister Quinn do that?’

Fox grinned. ‘You tell me.’

‘Well, I analysed the remaining wine in both glasses. There wasn’t much left in the victim’s glass, but there was enough to detect a fast-acting sedative. The killer’s fingerprints are on the knife and both glasses, but Mister Quinn’s are only on his glass. So the killer poured the wine, added the drug to Mister Quinn’s glass, waited for him to pass out, and then stabbed him in the back.’

‘Very good, and do you have a name for our killer?’

‘The fingerprints match one Tara Meridian.’

‘Mea Culpa,’ Fox said, holding up her hands. ‘I confess, it was I who set up the entire scene and you get ten out of ten for the method.’ Fox turned back to the audience. ‘So, we have a system which can take a novice through evidence collection and crime scene analysis. This will, when fully ready, interface with the kind of forensic swarm hive units we showed you earlier, allowing for more comprehensive analysis. To be honest, Marie was handicapped a little by the time we had and the relatively simple equipment, but she still managed to gather everything she needed. On the job, with a trained security officer, this equipment can turn anyone into a detective. Any cop will tell you that getting to a scene when it’s fresh and uncontaminated is key, and now the first responders on a scene can begin the work of forensic analysis, completing it if a more experienced investigator is not needed or not available.’

Fox gave them a big smile and wondered whether that counted as being political. ‘I’m not a tech guru like Jackson, but even I can see that this is taking the best of both human and artificial intelligence, and making the most of both. Marie will be on our stand in the exhibition hall with the harness should you want to know what her experience was like. I’ll be there on and off as well, and there’s always someone who can answer your questions. We can take a couple now…’ Her gaze flicked over raised hands and she pointed at a man in the second row she recognised from her old precinct.

‘How come we never saw you in a suit when you were with NAPA?’

There was laughter, which Fox joined. ‘NAPA never paid me enough for a suit. You, ma’am, third row on the right?’

‘On the resolution they’re discussing here, what’s your opinion?’

‘Ah… I didn’t really want to get into politics in this presentation. To be honest, I don’t like politics much anyway.’ Fox glanced at Jackson, noted the quick nod of his head and the lifting of his eyes to tell her to say what she thought. ‘However, since you ask, I’d rather see additional resource put into NAPA to increase coverage in the protectorates and the Belt. I am a little ambivalent about it. I can see how it might improve things for a few people, but for the majority it’s going to be a backward step.’

There was no response, just a nod, and Fox checked the time. ‘And that’s all we have time for. I’ll see you on the stand, I hope. Ladies and gentlemen, Jackson and Teresa Martins, and a warm hand please for our new detective, Marie Shaftsbury.’

There was applause and people started filing out. Dillan bounced up and walked up to the stage. ‘So I start on the nineteenth and then I can play with all your new toys.’

‘It’s in my calendar,’ Fox replied. Behind her, crew from the venue were clearing Manny Quinn and his death scene out and Jackson was helping Marie to get out of the harness. ‘I promise I won’t forget you’re coming.’

‘You’ve a few days off between leaving NAPA and joining Palladium, right?’ Terri asked.

‘Yeah. My last official day is the fourteenth. I get a couple of days and the weekend free before I dive into a new company.’

‘And we’re moving you into one of the towers, aren’t we?’

‘Uh-huh. That’s all been arranged too.’

Terri smiled. It was a predatory sort of smile. ‘Good. I could use a break and you don’t want to be hanging around while they move your belongings.’

‘Well, no but–’

‘I was thinking about a couple of days at the Tranquillity Spa.’

‘Uhh…’

‘Do not say no,’ Fox suggested. ‘Aside from anything else, getting Terri away from work for four days would classify as doing MarTech a corporate favour.’

‘Well, if you put it like that…’

Grinning, Fox raised her eyes to scan the room. Her mother’s distinctive hair was nowhere to be seen and Kit confirmed it. ‘They left already, Fox.’

‘Uh-huh. Well, they know where to find me if they want to come looking.’

~~~

There had been no sign of Fox’s parents all afternoon and, with the conference wrapped for the day, Fox went home on time with some relief. Stripping out of her suit and putting on a light wrap felt great and she put together a meal, retired to her rooms, and sat down to eat it feeling wonderful. Occasionally, when you had to spend your entire day around crowds, being alone was the best thing in the world.

With the food consumed, she curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine and sank herself into the murder room to catch up on anything Kit might have learned. Kit had certainly learned, but how much use it was going to be was open to question.

‘Mrs Coolidge fits the general pattern,’ Kit said as Fox looked over the web of Lauren Coolidge’s life. ‘However, the pattern has a rather broad weave. She is between twenty and thirty-five, attractive, and fit. Indeed, she takes good care of her body with a regular exercise regimen, as do all the others. She went missing while out running. NAPA have found no evidence of her abduction along her route and there have been no demands. She has been missing for three days now and no one has given any indication of knowing what happened to her.’

Fox nodded. ‘And we don’t know for sure it’s our killer.’

‘We will not until her body is found.’

Another nod. ‘You said her route was known and that you knew she kept good care of herself. How do you know?’

‘LifeFit. That is another factor in common, but again it fits huge numbers of people. All the victims have been LifeFit users, and most have been extensive users of LifeWeb, though not all. All did at least have basic data filled in on LifeWeb, enough to make effective use of LifeFit.’

‘I don’t know that much about LifeFit.’

‘It is a LifeWeb plug-in app which provides advice on healthy living and exercise goals. It features a navigation system which allows the user to keep track of runs, swims, or bicycle rides, logging the route so that it can be repeated. Users can utilise it with the telepresence system in LifeWeb to exercise in virtual gyms, have virtual running companions, etc. Some runners find this useful since they can get encouragement from other members, even when running alone.’

‘And these routes, they just put them up on LifeWeb for anyone to see?’

‘Yes, Fox. Generally with comments, pictures of interesting points along the route, best times.’

Fox shook her head. ‘People are nuts. It’s like “here I am, come and mug me.” Well, nothing much to be done about it. I guess we just wait.’ She dropped out of the virtual room, picked up her glass, and took a swig of wine, and then she turned her head as she caught something in the corner of her eye. ‘Oh… Um, what can I do for you, officer?’

Marie was standing there in something which might have been taken for a police uniform, if one had a broad imagination. There was a white blouse, low cut and cropped under her breasts, and a short, straight, blue skirt. The shoes were white, high-heeled, with a platform. Slung around her hips was a belt from which were hung a pair of handcuffs and some sort of baton in a leather holster. Marie was trying to look serious and not entirely succeeding. ‘Some very serious charges have been made against you, Miss Meridian.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. Homicide. The murder of poor Manny Quinn. What do you have to say for yourself?’

‘I didn’t do it. I think it was this guy with one arm.’

Marie narrowed her eyes. ‘On your feet.’ Putting the glass down, Fox did as requested and Marie turned her around, pulling her arms back. A second later, there was the rapid clatter of the ratchets as the cuffs were closed on Fox’s wrists. ‘I’ve been given considerable latitude in getting a confession out of you.’

Fox feigned a hint of fear as she tugged on the cuffs. The things felt real and it had been a while since she had been in restraints. ‘W-what kind of latitude?’

Marie stalked around her captive, reached out, and pulled the belt of Fox’s robe free. It took nothing more than a light push to have the silky material sliding down Fox’s arms to hang over the cuffs at her wrists. Marie licked her lips and wrapped her hand around the handle of the baton at her hip. ‘Are you going to talk?’

‘N-never, napper.’

Marie pulled her ‘baton’ free and Fox found herself looking at a long, thick, black dildo with a handle attached to it. ‘Spread ’em, sister,’ Marie hissed. ‘I’m going to do things to you that’ll make you scream your confession.’

Looking into the redhead’s eyes, Fox got the impression that she was not kidding around.

23rd June.

Fox’s eyes opened as Kit pinged an alarm through her head. She blinked. ‘Kit, it’s barely seven and I didn’t get to sleep until two.’

‘I know, Fox,’ Kit replied. ‘I rather enjoyed the display. It was very educational and I would like to discuss it later. However, you are needed at the conference centre.’

‘At seven in the morning?’

‘Yes. They have found a body.’

‘Shit.’

Marie stirred as Fox rolled out of bed. ‘Is it time to get up already?’ The voice was slurred with sleep and Fox grinned down at her, lying there sprawled across the bed with her blue skirt still bunched up around her waist.

‘I have to go in, you stay in bed.’

‘’Kay.’

‘You look… incredible.’

There was no reply; Marie had drifted back to sleep.

~~~

Sending orders ahead had Pythia’s forensic swarms crawling all over the body by the time Fox got to it. Fox stood at a distance, watching through the eyes of a six-legged cyberframe which was also part of Pythia’s retinue. Through the false colour of multispectral sensors, the bruising, burns, and wounds were more obvious. The basic analysis the swarm and the scans had already produced showed tissue damage almost everywhere.

‘And then you get dumped outside an emergency exit like trash.’ Even this early in the morning, the sun was beating down and the air temperature was over twenty Celsius. The scent of blood and decay was hitting Fox’s stomach even at this distance. Getting the body out of the baking heat was going to be a priority.

‘That looks bad.’ Fox looked around to see Jarvis standing beside her.

‘It is. When did they find the body?’

‘Seven-oh-two. Routine sweep around the building every hour by cambots.’

‘So he dumped her between six and seven. Knows the patrol cycle. Yeah, that sounds like the guy.’

Jarvis frowned. ‘You know who it is?’

‘I’ve been studying his work. Kit’s been working a profile on him and when Lauren Mary Coolidge there went missing on Saturday, Kit flagged her as a possible victim. She fitted his rather broad range of victim profiles. But his last kill was in Berlin.’

‘He gets around.’

‘Oh yeah, six more in New York, two in Cape Town, three in Berlin. This makes an even dozen. But now he’s dumped his cast-off right on my doorstep.’

‘Right outside a conference on the future of policing. I may not be the investigator you are, but that sounds like a challenge.’

‘I think you’re a better detective than you think you are, Ryan.’

‘If that was the case, I’d have your job too. And just to be quite clear, if I have to spend my time looking at things like that to do your job, you can keep it.’

‘Thanks. Kit, call NAPA, have them put you through to Cant. Tell him to get down here to look at this. Tell him his serial is back.’

Kit appeared beside them, her eyes on the body. She was looking disquieted, but she said, ‘Yes, Fox,’ and Fox decided to question her AI’s mental state later.

‘You’re calling in NAPA on this?’ Jarvis asked.

‘According to the law, I have to and we might as well get it over with. I’ll have the forensics on the body anyway and Cant will end up with the paperwork.’

‘That’s kind of mean.’

‘What can I say, I hate paperwork.’

~~~

Fox spotted Cant walking across the exhibition floor from quite a distance. He was a big man and made an impression. She had heard a number of rumours to the effect that he used all that mass to very good effect when ‘questioning’ suspects outside HQ, but no one had ever come forward to complain. He was not a good cop, but there was a look on his face as he approached the stand, the kind of look a good cop got when he really wanted to nail a criminal. She nodded toward the back of the stand and then went that way herself to where there was a small, closed-off space they used for breaks.

‘You think it’s him?’ Cant said as soon as the door was closed behind him.

‘It fits the pattern.’ Fox handed him a mug of coffee, possibly the only nice thing she had ever done for the man that she could remember.

‘Yeah, it does. You’ve had all your fancy forensics stuff run on her?’

‘Pythia’s still processing the swarm results. You’ll have it inside of the hour. You’ll need to clear it with Canard–’

‘It’s cleared. I’m on the case.’

Fox nodded. ‘I’d like to continue working it, but if I find him, you get the collar.’

Cant’s brow creased and he sank half the contents of his mug. ‘I’d like to say I don’t care who gets him, but I can’t quite say it and mean it. It’d be a good mark on my record. And aside from that, I want this freak. What he does to people, men and women, it’s sick. It’s… not human.’

She smiled. ‘Self-knowledge is always valuable, plus I never knew you had that kind of dedication. But he made this personal. Or he made it a challenge anyway, dropping the body right outside the conference building.’

This time he sipped, thinking. ‘You think he’s challenging us, you, to catch him?’

This time it was Fox who frowned. ‘It reads like that, but I’m not sure. He’s cocky, sure of himself, meticulous, and clever. He knew the schedule on the security sweeps here and dumped the body to be found quickly. I think he wanted us to know he’s back. He must know someone’s tied his kills together. I think he wants people watching, knowing he’s out there, and worrying who’ll be next.’

‘I don’t suppose you have any ideas on that?’

‘Huh. He picks his targets out by looking for people who go running. I think he tracks them using that LifeFit app and there are thousands in New York alone who do it. You could narrow it down by age and he seems to like them fit–’

‘He likes people he can torture for a long time. Fitter they are, the longer they’ll last while he breaks them.’ Fox just nodded in response. ‘And we can’t tell everyone to quit using LifeFit. LifeWeb would scream at us for starters. They’ve got political clout.’

‘Yeah. See why I don’t like politics?’

‘For someone who doesn’t, you’ve got a lot of NAPA people delegating law and order votes to you.’

‘Canard notice that?’ Kit had told her about a sharp rise in delegations after the presentation. Fox’s answer to the last question had had an effect.

‘Yeah, he did. He won’t like you working this case.’ Cant took in a long breath and let it out. ‘I’ll square it. Play up you handing us the collar. I’ll be using you and your resources to get a result. I can play politics too.’ He gave her a lopsided grin. ‘Doesn’t make us friends.’

‘I promise to look pissed off when you put this bastard in a box.’

‘Sounds good. I figure the Lensmen will want in. You’ll handle that side?’

‘Yeah, I can handle that. Deveraux seems to like me and there are some things, politically difficult things, the UNTPP could handle more easily.’

There was another lopsided grin. ‘What’s not to like? You brush up kind of nice. Never thought I’d see you in a suit.’

Fox shrugged and drained her coffee. ‘I think it makes me look kind of frumpy. Wait ’til you see me in a dress.’

~~~

‘Fox?’ Kit’s voice was quiet, subdued, and she was using audio only. They were still on the stand, but there were panels open elsewhere and the ground traffic was thin.

‘Yes, Kit.’ Fox kept the conversation in her head, because Kit seemed to want it private.

‘This killer, what he does to his victims…’ The AI’s voice trailed off and Fox gave it a second before prompting.

‘Yes?’

‘Reading the reports on the previous ones was bad, but it seemed… one step removed. Seeing this one… How can one human do something like that to another? I don’t understand. I can’t believe anyone… I mean, I can see it. Pythia has provided the full list of injuries and my copy at home is filing everything in the murder room, but I can’t seem to quite believe it.’

Fox was silent for a second, considering. ‘Kit, you weren’t originally designed to do this kind of work. You’re good at it and I’ve been happy with your work, but not every human can handle it. It’s like Ryan said earlier, he wouldn’t want my job. If you wanted to step back–’

‘No! No, I want to do it. I feel we make a good team, you, me, and Pythia. I think we are the best hope of stopping this man and I want to stop him. I see why you become so determined and I see why even Inspector Cant wants to see this one behind bars. Please don’t make me stop. I just wish to understand why.’

‘Okay. I think we make a good team too, but I think you should talk this through with Terri. I don’t want you damaging yourself doing this.’

‘I will. I promise.’

‘Okay. Well, some people kill on impulse, for defence or out of anger or passion. That’s not what we have here. Some kill for money, either being paid to kill or for material gain. Again, not what we have here. Some people just like it. The term is anti-social personality disorder. They don’t have the same sort of empathy for others that we consider normal. This guy clearly doesn’t empathise with his victims. He likes handing out pain and humiliation. Modern education practice and genetic screening has done a lot to eliminate this kind of behaviour, but there are plenty of people around who were born before the tests came in, or they live in the Sprawl and never got them. Maybe in a century there won’t be any left, but for now we have to deal with them.’

‘I know something about anti-social personality disorder,’ Kit said after a second. ‘I will do more research and consider how it affects this case. Thank you, Fox. I will not allow my… disquiet over this man’s methods to affect my work.’

‘It will affect you, Kit. If it doesn’t, then there’s something wrong with you too. Just remember you can always talk to me or Terri about it.’

‘Okay. And, if it helps, you can talk to me about it too.’

Fox smiled, despite the fact that it might make her look strange to anyone watching. ‘Thank you, Kit. I’ll remember that.’

~~~

Fox and Marie stood near the door into Sam’s lounge, watching him fret over the furniture arrangements as Belle projected virtual models of the furniture he was worrying about into the space.

‘I never knew there was so much planning needed,’ Marie whispered.

‘It’s not exactly feng shui,’ Sam said, having heard her anyway, ‘but there’s a certain aesthetic style I’m trying to achieve to allow me to have my own space which also functions for entertaining clients.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yes. It’s part of the training, though something many professionals pay only lip service to. It’s one of the reasons I’m using v-tags a lot for the decoration. Reds are appropriate for client visits.’

‘Red tends to bring out passion,’ Fox supplied.

‘Your bedroom is painted red,’ Marie commented.

‘Yes, and it seems to be working.’

Sam flashed them both a grin. ‘When I’m not working, I prefer something different. Cool colours in summer, warm in winter. The furniture has to work with all of that, plus I need appropriate areas in the room for its various functions.’

‘It’s a lounge,’ Marie said. ‘You lounge in it.’

‘You may. Fox works in hers, even if that’s while lounging. We all entertain. Many of my clients prefer not to restrict sex to the bedroom. I need chairs which…’ He stopped and frowned at Marie. ‘Do you really want the details?’

‘Um, maybe not.’

Sam nodded. ‘I need suitable furniture and, thanks to Felix and the discount I got on the renovations from Palladium, I have money to spend on getting suitable furniture. The bedroom will be easier and the exercise room is just a matter of fitting in the equipment.’

‘I have a space-optimised arrangement calculated, Sam,’ Belle put in. ‘If it meets your requirements, you will simply need to select a colour scheme.’

‘Thank you, Belle. We’ll v-tag the room decoration and go over colour palettes later. I’ll give your design a once-over, but it should be fine.’ His eyes narrowed as he scanned once more around the room. There was an L-shaped sofa and a wide chair which formed an area around a low table. Near the door, this was the first part of the room you came to and was clearly designed for entertainment. Two large chairs were set apart from that, facing a wall, each with a small table beside it, and that looked more like an area for watching vids, though the chairs were angled inward which made sitting and talking an option. There were also a couple of extras, a small desk and a cupboard of some sort beside it, both set out of the way behind the sofa. ‘And I think that should do it. Please save that design and we can get the builds started.’

‘When are you planning on moving in?’ Fox asked.

‘I’m moving things over at the weekend. I should be here full-time on Monday night. It would be Sunday, but I have an engagement.’ His lips curled. ‘Alice Vaughn. I’ll be accompanying her to this banquet tomorrow and she’s staying over the weekend.’

Fox smirked. ‘You left with her after the rehearsal too. She’s paying?’

‘Oh yes. Her suggestion. Last time, she said, “was very flattering, but talent deserves to be rewarded properly.”’

‘Ha!’

‘Working with her is one of my more pleasant tasks. I am not displeased to be doing so. She actually said she would come over here on the Saturday to see how we were settling in and help with the move.’

‘I like Alice.’

‘So do I,’ Marie said, ‘but boy does she have a temper. I’ve never got on her bad side, thank God.’

‘She’s naturally a little timid. Annoy her and she gets over it. I expect her staff think she’s a pushover until she turns around and bites off chunks, and then they never do it again.’

Sam gave a shrug. ‘Redhead.’

‘I’m a redhead!’ Marie pointed out, looking a little affronted.

‘Precisely,’ Fox replied.

~~~

‘Our subject,’ Kit said, pacing before the sofa, ‘is likely a physically fit individual, possibly obsessively so. His choice of victims would require a degree of physical strength to overcome them, and their apparent selection from among the ranks of LifeFit users would seem to indicate a similar interest.’

Fox watched Kit as she paced. The AI had dressed in her formal outfit and glasses, even though they were alone; she was taking this profile very seriously.

‘He is likely older than his victims, perhaps in his forties, though that flies against the normal run of this kind of psychopathy. They normally begin their career far younger. Indeed, early indicators would have appeared in childhood. He likely harmed and killed animals before graduating to people.’

‘That’s typical, yes.’

Kit broke her pacing to give Fox a smile. ‘I’m telling you things you already know.’

‘Some, but keep going. This is a learning exercise and talking it through will show up holes in the profile. Two heads are better than one. Supposedly anyway.’

‘Yes. It’s likely that he holds, or has held, a good job and was successful at it. I would suggest that he is part of a multinational company, probably a large one. The changes in venue suggest assignment overseas.’

‘Would that not suggest someone younger? Older people typically have families and uprooting them to another country is often difficult.’

‘No, because our subject is unlikely to be married. He has difficulty forming long-term relationships. He is likely to be sexually functional and may use prostitutes. This negates the need for emotional ties, which he understands logically but is unable to really grasp. To most, he is likely to seem like a well-adjusted, if solitary, man. He probably states that he “has never met the right girl” if asked, and since he would not know the right girl if she walked up and kissed him, that is true. The relationships he has are cultivated for his benefit. He uses people, friends and strangers alike, to meet his needs. He clearly enjoys inflicting pain. I believe that he has managed to assuage this need through the application of psychological torment until something triggered him to make his first kill.’

‘That is an interesting theorem. I like that. He could even be older than you think.’

Kit’s smile brightened. ‘I had considered the possibility that his career has taken him to the point where he can retire. He finds himself bored, idle, and decides to spice things up with murder.’

‘Let’s say forty to sixty then. A successful businessman who retired in fifty-five or fifty-six, likely to be wealthy because he’s maintaining good health so he can afford the healthcare. He lives alone… But then why the move to South Africa?’

‘Perhaps he simply wished to travel.’

‘It’s possible. Put that aside for a minute and go on.’

‘He plans carefully. His first victim likely required considerable planning. He makes sure that nothing can go wrong. He is skilled at risk assessment and management. He is meticulous, but he is prone to poor impulse control, bursts of anger. Perhaps he knows Mister August and disliked him for some reason, hence the choice of his granddaughter as the first target.’

‘Possible. Maybe you should widen your profile on Patricia Randall, include her grandfather, and see if anyone comes up who fits that pattern.’

Kit beamed. ‘I am glad you suggested that because I have already set about doing so.’

Fox returned the smile with a grin. ‘I’m not sure what you need me for. I’m sure you can solve this case by yourself.’

‘But, Fox, I would find it very difficult to actually arrest someone, not having a body to do it with.’

‘Oh well, as long as I’m useful for something.’

24th June.

A glimpse of copper hair out of the corner of her eye was the only notice Fox had that her parents had arrived at the stand. She turned, saw that Vaughn was on her way to meet them, and time did that weird slowing down thing that it does sometimes when all your attention suddenly focuses on details and the rest of the world fades into a background blur.

Jonathan Meridian was looking older than the still she had seen suggested. There were more lines on his face, his brow was furrowed as though stress was taking its toll, and his hair was receding more than the picture had shown, but there was no more grey in it. He was dressed in a brown and grey sweatshirt, cargo pants, and work boots; that was just like him: always the working man. She thought his face looked more gaunt than it had, but his body still had a solid, strongly built nature to it. Fox was not sure if he still worked fields, but he did work at something. No one had sculpted that body aside from Jonathan Meridian.

Andrea was a different matter. There was little age in her face, and her eyes were a clear green, the lids slightly hooded, a feature her father had always loved. He called them ‘come hither’ eyes and said they were the first thing that had struck him on first sight. Her face was narrower than Fox’s, but there was the same full mouth, a longer, narrower nose. Andrea had always said that Fox had a better figure, but you would be hard-pressed to tell now, and Fox had always said that it was simply a matter of height: Andrea was two inches shorter than her daughter. In truth, Fox had bigger breasts which her mother had said she envied: Fox had never understood why. Fox had always envied Andrea’s hair, long and bright copper. The cornrow braids suited her face, falling to the upper slopes of her breasts where each braid was capped off with a long, pale brown bead. Andrea was dressed in a short, cap-sleeved dress, red gingham at the top with a blue, high-waisted skirt, and that showed off long, slim legs. She was in beige heeled pumps which added to her height, which she had always been a little self-conscious about. Around her throat was a red scarf, tied as a choker. Fox the homicide detective thought it made her look as though her throat had been slit.

Time decided enough was enough and Fox moved. ‘Alice, I’ll take those two. I know them.’

Vaughn looked around, a little perplexed, but she smiled and nodded. ‘Okay, Fox.’

‘People still call you Fox then?’ Jonathan asked, his face lighting up a little as he smiled. The smile was welcome.

‘I like it, Dad. I got over punching people for using it a long time ago.’ Fox could almost feel the sudden attention from her friends at the use of the word ‘dad.’

‘True, I guess you did. Surprised you kept it through the Army though.’

‘They called me First Lieutenant, eventually. Have you got shorter?’

‘Huh, age can do that, but you’ve grown a little since I last saw you. We caught your presentation.’

‘I know. I looked for you at the end, but I guess you had places to be.’

‘We have had a busy week,’ Andrea said. ‘I heard your little speech at the end. Still in favour of government intervening in local matters, it seems.’

The slight smile Fox had been wearing faded. Fox saw Jonathan stiffen. ‘Yeah, that’s why I left NAPA and joined Palladium. Look, did you just come by to open old wounds or was there something I can show you?’

Andrea’s smile did not reach her eyes. ‘Yes, to business. When the resolution passes, we’ll be in need of equipment to assist our local law enforcers. I’m not so sure about some of the things you showed in the presentation, but the harness your girl demonstrated and the forensic equipment seemed exceptionally useful.’

‘Come and meet Marie.’ Fox stepped back, leading her parents to where Marie was standing. Now back on the stand, she was dressed in the outfit Vaughn had decided would work for the assistants, which was basically the same uniform as the Palladium security personnel wore on duty: sharply pressed slacks and a tunic, all in dark blue with white, high-visibility epaulettes. Normally there was a bullet-resistant undersuit beneath, but that was missing, and Marie was wearing the harness over her tunic, of course. Glancing back, Fox checked her parents were in tow. ‘This is a prototype, hence the loose wires, but all the functions are there and it does work, as Marie demonstrated. Marie, this is Jonathan and Andrea Meridian. They’re interested in the harness.’

Marie was pretty good; her face shifted into a smile with barely a flicker of surprise registering. ‘Of course, pleased to meet you, ma’am, sir.’

‘Is it heavy?’ Jonathan asked, peering at the hardware.

‘It’s a bit under three kilos and the weight is pretty distributed. It sits on your shoulders and hips so it’s easy enough to carry. I’m told the finished version will have fixing points for equipment around the waist.’

‘Battery life?’

‘It’ll manage eight hours before it needs a recharge.’

Fox was watching the same feed from the little AI they had all been supplied with, which was listening to the conversation and supplying context-sensitive data as needed. She did not need it just now. ‘And that’s plenty of time for a typical crime scene analysis. We do recommend some training in its use and in basic police operations. As Marie showed us, anyone can use it, but it’s really designed to assist a cop, not replace one.’

‘But Marie here is an actress?’ Jonathan asked.

‘I’m working on that, sir,’ Marie replied, smiling. ‘Currently I do housework. I get a little woozy at the sight of a real dead body.’

‘Keeps her head, though,’ Fox said. ‘She was involved in an incident at my apartment block in May.’

‘We don’t really get that kind of thing happening in our region,’ Andrea said. ‘It’s not like New York or Chicago.’

‘No,’ Fox said as Kit provided her with crime statistics for the Topeka Agri-Zone. ‘On a per capita basis, Topeka has around four times as many murders, five times the rapes, and three times the burglaries. Obviously the region has a far lower population than the metros so the absolute numbers tend to be smaller, but we both know crime is an issue out there, Mom. We both know part of that is resources. NAPA doesn’t have enough to do the job properly outside the metros.’

‘Precisely. If we are allowed to police ourselves, we can commit the kind of resources we need to bring those figures down. We already have a local watch unit who provide patrols, but they don’t get the backup they need from NAPA.’

‘You still have a basic problem. You have a population made up of independent, strong-willed people with a dislike of authority. They’re used to self-reliance, going out and making the world do as they wish, despite the odds. They love guns and, given the anarchist biomod gangs who come in from the protectorates, I can’t blame them. These people aren’t going to like any police force that can actually be effective, Mom.’

‘The Watch–’

‘Has had no effect on your crime rates and has resulted in an increase in assault cases. Usually the complaints are against your watchmen.’

Andrea’s eyes flashed and she opened her mouth, but Jonathan said, ‘Andy, this is not the place,’ and his wife calmed herself. The anger was still there though. ‘How much are they planning to charge for this?’ Jonathan asked.

‘We don’t have a final figure yet,’ Marie supplied, looking grateful. ‘I’ve been told to quote a figure of thirty to forty thousand per unit. Detailed forensic analysis swarms and some of the other equipment are available, but extra. And we can contract to provide training.’

Jonathan nodded. ‘Thank you, Marie. Fox, we’ll see you again before we head home.’

‘I’m sure,’ Fox replied.

‘This afternoon,’ Andrea said. ‘I’m on stage for the debate. And there’s the banquet tonight, of course. You’ll be there?’

Fox ignored the immediate question of her mother being on the stage in the afternoon: that could wait. ‘Yes, we’ll both be there, as it happens.’

‘We’ll see you later then.’ And Andrea turned and started away. Jonathan flashed Fox a quick smile and then went after his wife.

‘So… those were your parents,’ Marie said.

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Your mom is kind of hot.’

‘Yeah. She’s had a little work done since I last saw her.’

‘Bit of a bitch though.’

‘I’m not going to argue.’

~~~

Fox scanned the audience, taking in a few faces she knew, a few that Kit was able to provide data on though Fox did not immediately recognise, and many more who would have to have their badges scanned if she wanted to know who they were. The same would have applied to the people up on stage were it not for knowing who they were going to be beforehand.

General David Graves was in the seat next to Fox’s, looking grim. The big man was a hero, of sorts, noted for a number of actions in his career which had resulted in the saving of innocent lives. He viewed collateral damage as something no one should consider necessary and he had a strong belief in checks and balances, which he was good at arguing. Justice, he thought, was something which needed to be constantly watched and strived for. The problem was that the ‘debate’ was stacked against him and those who thought like him.

Most of the people on the stage were either so politically minded that they refused to take a real position, or they were determined to see the resolution pass. There were people like Fox’s mother there, effusive believers in the freedom of the private individual to govern themselves. Raffinton from Wayden was there, agreeing with anything which was likely to bring in votes for passage. Canter and Malton were making non-committal mutterings and trying to stay hidden while the other three senators were vehement about passing the resolution. Graves was the only one who seemed to be applying any logic to the discussion and Fox watched events, not sure what to say, and getting more and more annoyed.

‘Our watchmen have given us the street patrols which NAPA has never really provided,’ Andrea Meridian said, her voice strong, confident, and sincere. ‘Not these automated spies in the sky, but flesh-and-blood security officers who are there when they are needed and know how to respond to human issues.’

‘That’s exactly what I believe we need, Mrs Meridian,’ Raffinton piped up. ‘Feet on the ground. Human brains watching for human crime.’

‘NAPA’s methods work well in the metro areas,’ Director Hovering said, apparently feeling the need to defend his organisation, if only partially. ‘We simply do not have the resources to put more officers out into the protectorates. Whenever we suggest we need more, people complain about the cost.’

‘Passage of this resolution would reduce the cost of NAPA,’ Raffinton stated flatly. ‘Full costs have been presented with the proposal.’

‘And how much will be needed from local funds to pay Wayden Executive Services to replace the lost policemen?’ Graves asked.

‘General, your own company would be bidding for the same work.’

‘We aren’t pushing for passage of the resolution.’

‘Our own people would be quite capable of taking up the roles without the need for expensive contractors,’ Andrea said, her tone becoming a little harder.

And so it went on, and Fox watched as the things became more argumentative until Graves began to speak less, and that was when the whole thing became a diatribe. Speaker after speaker braying on about how everything would be better without NAPA.

There was, however, an arbitrator in the debate. He ran some political debate show on INN and had been drafted in because he had libertarian leanings. Whether he had decided that Fox was being quiet because she was unsure of herself and would make a mistake or he genuinely thought everyone should have their say, he finally called her out.

‘Miss Meridian, our younger member of the Meridian family, you’ve hardly said a word this afternoon. Have you no input to our conversation?’

Fox peered at him for a second. ‘I find it difficult to fight a battle when the opposition has control of the ground and my political backing has no desire to fight. I haven’t really thought of anything useful to say and I doubt it would change the results anyway, but that said… I can’t quite believe that some of the proponents of this resolution have read the same proposal that I have. Except for Mister Raffinton. I’m quite sure he understands it perfectly.’

‘Would you like to clarify that?’

‘Okay… My mother has mentioned her watchmen to me and has put them up as a fine example of how community policing can work given the right to be real police. To date, their only effect on Topeka’s crime figures has been to increase the number of physical assaults. The truth is that patrolling officers are not better at detecting crimes in progress than cyberframes. But beyond that, the current resolution level for serious crime in the Kansas Belt is quite good. Eighty-six per cent of homicides are solved out there. That’s better than New York Metro. Now, there are plenty of reasons for that, but the fact is that NAPA does as good a job out there as it’s allowed to do. Take NAPA away and you will have just as much crime, but now it has to be solved by people with no experience in detective work.’

Fox fixed her gaze on her mother. ‘Don’t go thinking you can hire detectives from NAPA because the other thing everyone seems to have forgotten is the standards requirements. NAPA has to meet a bunch of regulations and work within the law. When NAPA’s regional offices are closed, those detectives will largely be soaked up by the judicial wing, which is going to need a lot of new inspectors, people who go out and audit how areas are being policed. That’s the ones who don’t move into better-paid jobs with Wayden or Palladium. So, no detectives for the local watches, and every year those watches are going to have to prove they are working like a proper police department. They’ll need to show they understand arrest procedure, due process, crime scene etiquette. No one seems to know what happens when the first one fails.’

‘NAPA’s judicial wing is empowered to bring in an outside contractor to take over the role, at local expense,’ Graves supplied.

‘Ah! Someone else has read the whole thing! And, of course, we’ll probably know that failure is coming long before the audit, because we’ll have cases thrown out due to bad evidence collection, broken custody chains, improper procedure during an arrest, and any of the numerous little things that defence lawyers love to uncover and put to use. So, give it… three to five years.’

‘Long enough for a nationwide privatised policing resolution to look like a great idea,’ Graves said.

‘Yeah, I figure three to five years should do it. By then, there won’t be any local policing. I’ll be tied to a desk running a huge investigative department dealing with crimes all over the country. Mister Raffinton’s share options will be worth more than the output of a small nation, and General Graves and I will be rich. My mother will be wondering why her flesh-and-blood security officers are wearing Wayden or Palladium uniforms, though it’s more likely they’ll have company logos stamped on their hulls. Oh, and she may be wondering how her taxes went up to pay for it. As many of NAPA’s uniformed officers and detectives as possible will be soaked into security companies, but it’s doubtful they’ll all move over or find positions in the new NAPA, so the senators are going to be worrying over that rise in unemployment. The only thing I can see being good about it is that policing out in the regions might actually improve since there’ll be no choice but to put resource into whoever is doing the job.’

‘You’re wrong, Tara,’ Andrea said. ‘We can make this work.’

‘Agreed, Mom, you can. But you won’t. You’re ideologically opposed to the steps that would be necessary to make it work. Hell, half your watchmen will be doing it because they figure they’ll end up being able to buy assault weapons legally. They aren’t interested in being trained to be cops.’

‘Our people are not like–’

‘You’re forgetting I grew up among the people you’ll be recruiting. The good ones don’t belong to the “good ol’ boys” who’ll be in the watchmen clique. I went to school with these guys, Mom. I know what they’re like. Damn it, I like what they’re like, in the right circumstances. Friday night at the local bar. Any time I want a tyre changed on a tractor. Dealing with a girl whose boyfriend came home Friday night, beat her black and blue, and raped her… No, I don’t want them dealing with that, but they’ll have to, and not by laughing it off as horseplay.’

Fox turned her attention back to their compère. ‘What do I think? I think this resolution will pass, because nothing I or the general have said is going to turn around the weight of combined apathy from the metro areas and fanaticism from the other regions. I think that I should be busy planning for all the work ahead of us rather than sitting here trying to hold back the tide. And there’s one last thing. I think that I could have been persuaded to vote for this resolution today if just one person had addressed the facts General Graves put forward earlier rather than falling back on emotive bullshit about freedom. But no one did and that makes me believe that while it could work, no one has really bothered to think about how it will work. For that reason, I will be using my delegated and personal votes to vote against this resolution.’

There was a fraction of a second of silence while the people on stage took in the fact that someone had specifically stated how they were going to vote, and it was not positive, and they needed to come up with something in reply which did not seem too emotive, and… And then a burst of applause started in the audience, spreading rapidly with whoops added in for good measure, as the cops out there in the crowd expressed their opinion.

‘Fox,’ Kit said.

Fox tried to keep the wince off her face. ‘How many more?’

‘Another thirty-eight vote delegation requests in the last five seconds, and rising.’

‘Canard’s going to want to have me assassinated.’

‘Perhaps, but these are not all from precinct nineteen. The demographic covers almost the entire metro area and some from further afield.’

‘Oh.’

The applause died off and the adjudicator decided to call it a day. There was a request for a short closing statement from everyone and he turned to Fox first.

‘I’ve said all I have to say,’ Fox said and turned to look at David Graves.

~~~

Dia Barrera met them at the side of the stage when they walked off. ‘You did well, Fox. I was beginning to worry you were going to stay entirely silent, but you did well. Impassioned, but calm and carefully considered. Factual, but with enough feeling to make you seem sympathetic.’

‘She got more applause from the cops than we all got at the end,’ Graves added, grinning. ‘No words of encouragement for me, Miss Barrera?’

‘I never need to provide any, David.’ Barrera lost the grin. ‘Of course, you’re right, Fox. The resolution will pass and we will need to begin managing the process for the following one.’

‘Yeah. Are you coming to the banquet tonight?’

‘I’ll be there. I have some networking to do. Your wife is over with you, isn’t she, David?’

‘Lucy miss a party? It’s never going to happen.’

Fox sighed. ‘I wish I could.’

‘You’ll enjoy it once it’s happening,’ Graves told her. ‘Always the same with me. Lucy has to drag me out, but once I’m there, I have a fine time.’

‘Maybe.’ But with her parents attending as well, Fox was not so sure he was right.

~~~

There were, obviously, compensations. Fox and Marie met Sam and Alice Vaughn in the foyer of Fox and Sam’s old apartment block, and Sam was, as usual, not disappointing. He looked gorgeous in his black suit, the crimson, open-necked shirt apparently selected to complement the red dress Vaughn was in. It was a far shorter dress than Fox would have believed Vaughn had the courage to wear and it showed more cleavage than expected, and Vaughn had pulled her hair into a casually complex updo which gave the impression it could collapse in an instant.

‘What do we think of our rather reluctant Alice?’ Sam asked as they headed out to pick up the maglev again. Vaughn’s cheeks coloured, but she did not falter.

‘How much persuasion to get her in that dress?’ Fox asked.

‘No more than thirty minutes.’

‘More like three hours,’ Vaughn said.

‘Alice, you look edible,’ Fox told her.

Vaughn’s cheeks reddened more, but her back straightened and her steps developed more of a strut. ‘Thank you, but you… One or two people are going to wonder if you’ve been replaced by an alien.’

Marie had opted for something young and bright, and quite like her personality. Her dress was high on the thigh with a scooped neckline, black with decorative panels in pink curving over her stomach. The panel over her navel was pink mesh. Flesh tone, high-heeled sandals gave her a little extra height. Marie looked like Marie in a party dress.

Fox was in a strapless corset-dress, the skirt falling to her ankles, but with a wide split up the front of her left leg. The lightweight, black fabric flicked around her sandalled feet, showing long legs as she strode along beside the slideway. The bodice of the dress was white, the black and white portions divided by a wide waistband patterned in black and white. There was also a black lace bolero jacket which just added to the elegance of the outfit. Marie’s tongue had more or less rolled out of her head and flopped onto the floor when she had seen the woman she was accompanying. That was just the kind of reaction Fox wanted.

‘Fox,’ Sam said, ‘brushes up very well when she has sufficient reason to do so. I believe she even enjoys dressing up. Not that you’d get her to admit it.’

‘You certainly wouldn’t,’ Fox agreed.

‘Speaking of impressions,’ Vaughn said, ‘try not to look too surprised when you see David’s and Garth’s wives.’

‘My interest is piqued.’

‘Well, they both look kind of trophy, and Lucy Graves kind of is. He met her after leaving the Army, never had a long-term relationship before that. She is actually brighter than she looks, but she’s thirty plus years younger than him. Camille Eaves looks like a sexy, Mexican señorita who hooked herself a rich American, but she’s way brighter than she looks. She works in PR and memetics for Palladium. Lucy actually has a bit of a business designing clothes. Uh, and she’s likely to be wearing something she designed. You might like her stuff, Marie.’

‘It’s bright then?’ Fox asked.

‘Bright and often skimpy.’

‘Sounds great,’ Marie said, grinning.

There was another stop-off at the main MarTech tower to pick up Jackson, Terri, Helen Dillan, and Mariel Hoarsen. Jackson, in a suit, looked quite comfortable with Hoarsen on his arm, but there was something about her face and posture which once again made Fox want to talk to the MarTech CEO. Hoarsen’s black, floor-length, figure-skimming gown looked good on her and proved that she had done a good job at keeping her figure. And if Fox’s suspicion was right, then Jackson really needed to have his head examined, because he seemed entirely oblivious.

Terri and Dillan had gone for the little black dress option. Fox suspected that Terri had fabricated Dillan’s outfit since the design was one Fox knew her friend had bought from a big name in Berlin. There was a little variation in the outfits to differentiate them, particularly in the shoes since Dillan had an inch of platform on her pumps. The extra height matched Dillan with Terri more or less precisely. The two girls were definitely becoming something of an item. From the expression Jackson wore when he looked at them, Terri’s father was happy about that.

Next stop along the LI-line was the conference centre. The banquet officially started at eight, but the doors were open for drinks thirty minutes before that. By the time the little group walked into the reception hall of the centre, where the drinks were being served, most of the delegates had descended from their rooms on the upper floors and were beginning the process of getting drunk. The conversation level was deafening; after all of fifteen seconds, Vaughn had created a group virtual conference session so that they could keep in touch in the chaos.

‘Alice, you’re a genius,’ Fox said.

‘No, I’m a manager. And when we need to form up to breach the banquet tables, I expect you to give us the tactical plan.’

‘David’s the strategist, and I think this calls for a combined action, possibly involving orbital bombardment.’

‘I’ll signal the company’s orbital death ray,’ Jackson said.

‘We discussed this, Jackson,’ Hoarsen said. ‘We don’t mention the ODR around civilians.’

‘You’re right, of course. I’ll signal the orbital mind control lasers.’

‘Should he be mentioning the OMCLs?’ Marie asked.

‘No,’ Hoarsen replied, ‘but in a minute no one will remember he did.’

And then David Graves appeared and no one did. It was not the big, muscled form of the general in one of his high-collared suits which caused the stir: Graves was an impressive sight with a handsome face and a cap of pale blonde hair, who was not showing his age even though it was doubtful he resorted to cosmetic procedures. His wife, however, was something else.

Lucille Graves, according to the data Kit supplied, was twenty centimetres shorter than her husband and looked almost like a child beside him. Obviously far younger, she was very pretty with tanned skin and sun-bleached blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a wide smile. Her body was lush, trim, and fit, muscled from exercise, but fairly obviously enhanced in the bust at the very least. Her dress was a plazkin tube in candy-pink and bright yellow. The yellow panels at front and back were translucent enough to show off the shadows of her breasts and the pink and yellow, high-hipped thong she was wearing under the dress. If that was one of her designs, then, yes, they were Marie’s kind of thing.

Graves made a beeline for Fox and Marie, waving to the others in passing. ‘This, Lucy, is Fox Meridian, who you haven’t met as yet. Her friend is Marie, and I should introduce you to Terri’s young friend, but Fox is with the company.’

Lucy beamed, reminding Fox a little of Kit, and held out a hand. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ She had a pleasing voice, lower in pitch than Fox had expected.

Fox took the hand. ‘Mrs Graves, it’s–’

‘Lucy. I’m not old enough to be Mrs Graves yet. Give it another five years and I might feel mature enough. No one called “Mrs Graves” wears an outfit like this, don’t you think?’

‘It’s awesome,’ Marie said.

‘Marie’s fond of bright colours,’ Fox supplied. ‘Oh, and Helen Dillan’s joining us next month, David. My first recruit.’

‘I’ll take a little time to talk to her then,’ Graves said. ‘We’re coming along nicely, really.’

‘No business tonight,’ Lucy snapped. ‘Except for me talking dress designs with Marie.’ The little blonde closed in on the taller redhead, a predatory look on her face. ‘I’m feeling a need to get you into some of my designs and in front of a camera…’

Graves gave Fox a shrug. ‘That’s it. We’ve lost them for the evening.’

‘It’ll keep them out of mischief,’ Fox replied.

Camille Eaves was more of a match for her husband than Lucy was for hers, but on first viewing she did still seem to be there as eye candy. There was a little Mexican blood in her, mostly showing in the olive tone to her skin, but her features and figure were a little more northern European. Her body was slim, with a chest that did not quite match Lucy’s, but still looked as though it had had a little work done on it. She had long legs and quite wide hips. She was, frankly, stunningly beautiful. Waves of blonde hair fell to the upper slopes of her breasts, swept over to the left to give a nice asymmetry and show off a long neck. She had a long, straight nose, full lips, and eyes the colour of aged whiskey. Rather than a dress, she had elected to wear a red jumpsuit, tightly fitted around her legs, halter-necked, with a neckline that plunged to the gold band around her waist. A simple gold chain and more elaborate gold bangles completed the outfit. She was elegant, sexy, and fantastic to look at, and Fox saw her eyes appraising everyone she met with the kind of cool intelligence you saw on cops and criminals.

‘Fox Meridian,’ Eaves said by way of introduction, ‘my wife, Camille.’

Fox took the blonde’s hand, smiled. ‘I’m told you do PR and memetics for Palladium.’

Camille smiled. ‘Alice warned you not to take me at face value?’

‘Yes, but I’d have been wondering what you were if she hadn’t said anything. I could see you watching people.’

‘Occupational hazard.’

‘Same here.’

‘It is very difficult sneaking my numerous affairs past Camille,’ Eaves said, ‘when she’s so damn observant.’

Both women looked at him. He kept his face straight, though Fox could tell it was costing him. ‘Garth,’ Fox said, ‘no man who goes to bed with a woman like Camille cheats on her unless he’s dumber than a bag of bricks. You’re not fooling anyone.’ Eaves gave a shrug, conceding the point.

‘I, however, am amenable to flattery,’ Camille said. ‘I think we’ll get on very well.’

~~~

The banquet left Fox wondering how anyone was going to manage dancing after it. The Palladium/MarTech team got a table of their own, heaped with various different types of food, as were all the other tables in the hall which was being used for the meal. David Graves was the biggest eater, big surprise, but his wife did a remarkable job of keeping up, despite weighing in the same as a damp dishcloth. The woman had to have a metabolism like a furnace. Fox ate her fill, which was a respectable quantity and had Marie shaking her head in disgust, and paced her alcohol consumption, because Marie was not.

Ryan Jarvis had managed to land himself a very attractive young companion for the night. A quite small woman with a beautiful face and figure, and long black hair, she filled her tiny black tube dress to perfection, appeared to be able to hold her own in the conversation, and was clearly a pro.

‘Alice asked me to find him a companion for the evening,’ Sam explained when Fox made the logical leap and asked. ‘Jasmine and I have worked together occasionally. She’s very professional, excellent in conversation on a number of subjects, and if he can walk in the morning, she let him off easy.’

‘Meh, it’s the last day and most of the delegates will have hangovers. We can manage without him standing up for a few hours.’

And then the feasting broke up and there was a general gravitation into the foyer again while the tables were cleared and the band set up, and when the music started slow, presumably to allow conversation to continue and people’s meals to settle, Marie dragged Fox out onto the dancefloor to sway slowly through the motions. They were not alone, but there were relatively few people with them yet.

‘I just wanted a few minutes to ourselves,’ Marie said, her body pressed closely to Fox’s as they moved, smoothly and slowly, to the music. ‘It’ll get crazier in a bit, and I’ll get drunker, and I might not get this chance to enjoy holding you.’

‘That’s sweet. Lucy hasn’t been talking your ears off, has she?’

‘She’s fine. She wants me to fly out to their place in Chicago. She has a friend who does her photography, wants me to model some of her designs. She says some of her stuff is better suited to a body like mine.’

‘Going to do it?’

‘I get to keep the outfits and it’s free portfolio shots. I don’t want to get into modelling, but publicity photographs are part of the business. It’s good experience.’

‘So do it.’

‘Yeah… You know, meeting you and Sam is probably the best thing that could have happened to me. I’m really grateful for all the help. And the incredible sex, obviously.’

‘Obviously.’

There was silence for a second or two, aside from the slow, rhythmic music. ‘Are you wearing anything under that dress?’ Marie asked.

‘Not a damn thing.’

‘Oh… And I don’t suppose we can leave early?’

‘No, we can’t.’

Marie let out a whimper. ‘If I die of frustration, I’m coming back to haunt you.’

~~~

‘Tara.’ Fox glanced around to find her mother standing beside her. It was Fox’s turn to get the drinks and this was the first time she had been alone all evening. Andrea’s presence was acknowledged with a nod. ‘I wasn’t aware that you and the girl were so intimate.’

Fox let out a short laugh. ‘You’re not old enough to come out with a statement like that, Mom. And her name is Marie. If you’re going to sound insulting, you could remember her name.’

‘I didn’t mean to be… I’m sorry, it did sound a little…’

‘Bigoted?’

‘Insensitive, certainly. I’ve no objection to same-sex relationships, of course. I’m just not used to them.’

‘Yeah… Well, Marie and I aren’t planning on getting married or anything, so I shouldn’t worry about it. How are you keeping? You both look pretty good. Both still working?’

‘We’re well. Both of us have moved more into politics the last couple of years. Jonathan still has a few acres he tends, mainly for us. He says it keeps him in touch with the people he’s fighting for.’

‘That’s nice.’ Fox wondered what kept Andrea in touch with her people. She looked quite the elegant, rather sexy, modern woman in her short black dress, the bodice and capped sleeves made of fine mesh.

‘We were wondering whether we might visit you… before we leave on Sunday. Just… catch up a little.’

Fox began thinking of excuses. The drinks were ready on her tray and she could go, submerge herself in her friends. But then… ‘You’ve got an implant, right?’

‘Of course. We’re not entirely backward in the Belt.’

‘No, Mom, I’m aware of that. You didn’t have one when I left and I got my first one when I joined up.’

Andrea’s brow furrowed. ‘No, sorry, of course. Jonathan still uses a wearable. He says he’s too old to go around having things drilled into his head.’

‘I’ve sent my address. Come over Saturday. It’s not far from the maglev and the area’s quite safe. I should be in all day. I’ll let you know if something comes up.’

Andrea gave her a smile. ‘Thank you, Fox. We’ll look forward to it.’

Returning the smile, Fox picked up her tray and started off to where the rest of the team were busy getting inebriated.

~~~

‘So,’ Fox said when she had managed to get Terri alone for a few minutes, ‘your father and Mariel.’

Terri gave a grunt and frowned deeply. ‘Don’t. There is no Poppa and Mariel. I wish there was.’

‘You’d noticed how she looks at him then? It’s not just me?’

‘Oh no, I’d noticed. He hasn’t noticed. I really feel sorry for her. Poppa’s still in love with Momma and how can a real woman compete with a ghost? I’ve suggested he should at least try another relationship, but he… I think he’s scared of getting hurt again.’

‘He is,’ Fox replied flatly. ‘It’s why he’s so protective of you, and why he overdoes the gratitude to me. I was wondering what you felt about it.’

‘Oh, I think it’s a great idea. Mariel’s not my mother, doesn’t want to be. She doesn’t want to replace Lysander Martins. She just wants to be part of Jackson’s life. Beyond running his company, I mean.’

‘Tough one. Could we get them drunk and naked and slip them into a bed?’

Terri broke into a giggling fit. ‘Don’t think I haven’t considered that.’

‘We’ll hold it in reserve in case we can’t think of anything else, but I’m telling you, Christmas party this year, I’m arranging to have them banging on the boardroom table.’

There were more giggles. ‘Okay, but can we not mention them “banging” again. I might want Poppa to have a relationship, but I’m not ready to accept that “banging” is involved.’

‘Okay.’ Pause. ‘Would you accept “boinking?”’

‘No!’

25th June.

It was after midnight by the time they had dropped Jackson, Terri, Dillan, and Hoarsen off at the MarTech tower, where Fox had no doubt Terri would not be allowing Dillan much rest, and then Fox and Marie had made it back to the house. They went in through the back door, which gave access to the back stairs, and started to climb.

Halfway up the first flight, Marie stopped Fox. Fox turned, grinning down at her. ‘What? We’re almost there.’

‘Can’t wait,’ Marie replied. She pushed forward, pressing a knee against one of the steps as she dived under Fox’s skirt.

‘Hey, we– Ah!’ Fox braced her arms against the walls as Marie’s tongue dived into her, pushing in and thrusting hungrily, only to be replaced by a pair of fingers while the tongue moved up and began work on Fox’s clitoris. To be fair, Fox had been thinking about what they would do when they got home as much as Marie probably had: wound up and not a little tipsy, it took only a minute before Fox’s head rolled back on her shoulders, her back arched, and she was struggling to hold her balance as a tornado exploded up through her body. ‘You’re crazy,’ Fox whispered as she came down.

‘We can go upstairs now,’ Marie told her, emerging from beneath Fox’s skirt.

‘I’m going to fuck you senseless. You know that, right?’

‘Shouldn’t take much effort. Half gone already.’

‘Oh, I’m going to put effort into it.’ Turning, Fox pressed her legs back into life and started climbing the stairs.

Marie let out a groan. ‘Thank God.’

~~~

‘You’re walking funny.’

Vaughn gave Fox a frown at the comment, saw the grin, and managed enough irritation to overcome the blush threatening to spread. ‘I had a very good night, but there wasn’t much sleep involved. Marie is looking a little wilted.’

‘Ever tried a strapless strap-on?’

Now there was a blush and Vaughn’s voice dropped. ‘You’re the first girl I ever thought of coming on to.’

‘Flattering. Thank you.’

‘Yes, well…’ Vaughn’s lips curled. ‘You should see Ryan. I think Jasmine broke him.’

‘Sam did say she would leave him without the use of his legs. Are we expecting much traffic today?’

‘No, a fair amount of the delegates will be out of here straight after lunch. The place closes down at fifteen hundred. Uh, Ryan’s flying back this evening, so are Garth and Camille. Lucy persuaded David to stay until Sunday so she can go shopping. We might see him here this morning. And I’m here until Monday.’

‘I know. Sam mentioned you were spending Sunday with him. You’re coming over to the house tomorrow, right?’

‘I see it as my duty to ensure that the refit has worked as specified and that my customers have no complaints.’

‘Uh-huh. You’re not fooling anyone, you know?’

‘I know. Don’t care.’

‘That’s my girl.’

26th June.

‘There are visitors at the door,’ Belle announced, appearing in Sam’s lounge beside Fox. ‘Mister and Mrs Meridian. Kit informed me that they might be arriving.’

Fox glanced around. Everyone was dressed in something reasonably appropriate. Vaughn’s little spaghetti-strapped top and faded jeans were not something Fox had ever expected to see her in, but the look worked and was decent. Marie was in one of her brightly coloured cropped tops and shorts, fairly normal. Sam actually had a shirt on. ‘Let them in, please, Belle. I’ll go down and meet them. Everyone okay with me bringing them here before I take them upstairs?’

No one declined, though Marie suddenly looked flustered, and Fox set off at a jog to go down to the front hall. The couple looked up as Fox trotted down the stairs; Jonathan smiled. He was back in a sweatshirt and jeans though Fox had spotted him in a fashionable, high-collared suit at the banquet. Andrea was wearing a flimsy little camisole top in a semi-transparent, candy-striped fabric with a matching bikini bra under it, an almost indecently short dark blue skirt, and white, high-heeled clogs. Her wardrobe had changed a lot in the last decade and Fox was not quite sure what to make of it.

‘Is it always so hot in this city?’ Andrea asked. ‘I thought I’d melt just walking over from the maglev.’

‘In summer, yeah. Always was, or so I’m told, but global warming didn’t do anything to help. We get rain too, but it’s warm rain. Even the big storms that swing up from the Atlantic tend to leave the place sweating.’

‘This is… very nice.’ Andrea looked around at the wood panelling of the hall. ‘You must be doing well.’

‘Well, I am, but the house is shared. Come on up and meet the others.’ She let them start up and then turned, leading the way through to where her friends had settled, taking a break from organising Sam’s possessions. ‘Everyone, this is Jonathan and Andrea, my parents. And Marie you two have met. She lives in the basement flat. This floor is Sam’s, and he’s the house’s owner.’

Sam took Jonathan’s offered hand. ‘Sam Clarion. I was Fox’s next-door neighbour until I inherited this place, and I suppose I’m her landlord now.’

Andrea gave Sam a big smile as she shook his hand. ‘People usually call me Andy,’ she said.

‘And Alice Vaughn is the CMO of Palladium and not a house mover.’

‘I was in charge of the renovations on the house,’ Vaughn said, smiling and shaking hands. ‘Since I was in town, I wanted to see how everyone was settling in.’

‘Nice meeting you all,’ Jonathan said. His smile was broad and not quite as fake as Andrea’s. That said, Andrea seemed in a brighter mood than she had been most of the week.

‘I’d imagine you’re happy with the way things went at the conference?’ Vaughn asked.

‘It went as I expected,’ Andrea replied. ‘I think even those who think it’s a bad idea expect this to pass.’

‘Unless there’s a quite remarkable change in opinion before the second of August, yes. We’ll be ready for it. It’ll take at least six months for the legal niceties to be ironed out and we’ll have all our products and services fully ready long before then.’

‘We’ll go up and leave this lot to shifting things,’ Fox said. ‘See you in a bit, guys.’

Upstairs, Fox took her parents to the lounge. ‘Sorry if the place looks a little spartan, Dad. There’s some VR decoration on top of the basic.’

‘It looks nice. Art deco, right?’ Jonathan pulled a glasses case from his pocket and put on a visor-like pair of specs with a thickened earpiece which suggested a VR set. ‘Oh yeah, not much in addition. I like it.’

‘Ah, well since you can see the v-tags now, you should meet the other members of the household. Belle, Kit, would you mind showing yourselves?’

The two avatars appeared, Kit waving and Belle executing a small bow, which seemed to fit their personalities quite well.

‘We met Belle on the door screen,’ Andrea said. ‘I’d assumed she was human.’

‘Belle is the household AI,’ Fox explained. ‘One of MarTech’s latest. She’s housed down in the basement, but she can be anywhere she needs to be. Kit is my personal assistant. That’s her server over by the wall. Drinks? Something cold, perhaps? Do we have any beer, Belle?’

‘I have cold beer in stock,’ Belle replied smoothly. ‘There is wine in the cooler as well as a variety of soft drinks.’

‘Beer, Dad? Mom, you’ll have a glass of wine?’ Getting nods, Fox smiled. ‘Two glasses of wine then, Belle, and a beer. Let’s sit down.’ Belle vanished with another bow of the head.

‘Your PA seems to have an unusual avatar design,’ Andrea said as she arranged herself on the sofa. Fox took the chair and let her father sit beside her mother.

‘I am a Kitsune dash five nine two personal AI, Mrs Meridian,’ Kit said. ‘My form was selected to match the name. Currently my series is not on the market, but will be soon.’

‘Jackson and Terri like throwing experimental kit at me for product testing,’ Fox added. ‘Apparently I’m good at it. Kit helps me with investigations, which is not something they originally planned but it’s worked well.’

‘Of course, we saw the reports about you rescuing Teresa Martins from terrorists,’ Andrea said.

‘Twice,’ Jonathan added.

‘She’s under orders not to let it happen again,’ Fox replied, ‘but that UA cell is now dead or in Rikers, so she’s probably safe.’

‘United Anarchy are still not your favourite people, I take it.’

‘Not really. You’re still farming, Dad?’

Jonathan seemed to accept the change of subject without qualms. ‘Not like I did. Got enough money together to buy a patch of my own. We’re not entirely self-sufficient, but between what I can grow to eat and sell we do okay, and there’s enough to let us do the political work we want to do.’

‘I shouldn’t imagine you approve of that part,’ Andrea said, and the smile was too flat again.

Fox stared at her for a second and then spoke before Jonathan could intervene. ‘I don’t like your politics, Mom, but I’m proud of you.’ Andrea’s eyes widened: she had not expected that. ‘You’re actually standing up and doing something about what you believe in. I respect that. That’s why I left. I wanted to take action, not talk about it. You didn’t understand that at the time.’

‘I… may have been… less than supportive.’ And Fox was fairly sure that was as close to an apology as she was going to get. ‘You’ve come a long way since you became a soldier.’

‘Army transferred me to the UNTPP. I was one of their top antiterrorism ops and they wanted someone like that in the new agency.’ Fox sighed. ‘The trouble with them and NAPA is the politics. It messes everything up. People are more concerned with how things will look than they are with getting the job done. This damn conference was more of the same. I’d be pissed off more, but the murderer I’m hunting at the moment is a slippery one and he’s technically NAPA’s case.’

‘Everyone heard about the body they found,’ Jonathan said. ‘That the man?’

‘That’s him. Kit’s been working his profile. The girl we found this week is his twelfth victim worldwide. He’s clever, meticulous, and mad as a bag of cats. But… I think he’s back in America for a reason. Back in New York for a reason. I think we’re going to nail him soon.’

Fox paused and looked around as one of the arachnoform house drones came in with a tray of drinks balanced on its back. She stood up to hand out the drinks. ‘Thanks, Belle. Anyway, modern policing is complicated, especially on a case like this. I was negative about your chances of clearing up homicides before, but out in the Belt it’s not the same. You’ll mostly be dealing with domestics. Single deaths or groups of family members. As long as your investigators remember to question close relatives, boyfriends, and girlfriends, they’ll do okay. But the folks I remember from back there will try to find an outsider first. That’s where the training comes in. And I didn’t want to start this discussion over again.’

‘Ah,’ Jonathan said, ‘well, we did want to bring something up that’s related.’

‘That wasn’t why we asked to come,’ Andrea added hurriedly, ‘but we got some news from home last night which… Do you remember the Batesons?’

Fox frowned, having to drag up her own memory since it had been before her implant. ‘Mal and Crystal? They had a daughter not long before I left.’

‘Sandy,’ Jonathan supplied, nodding. ‘Sandy has gone missing. NAPA suspect she’s run off to Chicago or Detroit and they’re looking for her there, but Mal thinks she was taken.’

‘Taken?’

‘There were people up from the Southern Protectorate this week for the market. Mal thinks one of them, maybe a group, grabbed her.’

‘We have a fund,’ Andrea said. ‘Lots of local people put into it to hire… extra security if it’s needed. Part of that supports the Watch, but we’d like to hire you to come home and see if your technology can find Sandy.’

Fox frowned. ‘Mom, if she’s gone down into there…’

‘You can’t do worse than NAPA have already done. Call it an exercise in proving to us that what you have can do something we need. You know we have trouble from the dustbowl gangs from time to time.’

Taking a drink, Fox considered her options and decided that she had one. There was a girl missing and possibly the captive of a gang of thugs. ‘I’ll run it past my management. I can fly out on Monday if they give me the go-ahead.’

Part Three: Dust, Sweat, and Tears

Topeka Agri-Zone, 28th June 2060.

Hot wind from the south, driven across miles of flat arable land and then superheated to incandescence across the airfield, smacked into Fox’s face as she stepped out of the hangar which had been arranged for Pythia’s vertol. Or that was what it felt like anyway. ‘Damn. Mom complained about New York? I’d forgotten this place broils in the summer.’

‘Temperature and humidity figures are a little higher here,’ Kit agreed. She, of course, looked perfectly comfortable.

‘Just be thankful you can’t actually feel it.’ Looking south, Fox stared off into the distance, imagining the conditions three hundred kilometres away. Down toward Tulsa, where there was still a community worth giving the title to, the dust started. The boundary between the Kansas Belt and the Southern Protectorate followed the old Kansas state line down there, but that had been a matter of drawing maps. They still ran livestock down there, mostly sheep genetically modified for the conditions: more like goats really, someone had actually trademarked the design and called them arigeep, but the name had never really stuck.

‘We’re loaded up,’ Jonathan Meridian said. Fox turned and flashed her father a smile. ‘I’ve never seen a computer like that on wheels.’

‘Pythia’s designed to deploy where she’s needed. So they built her to unlatch from her mountings and move around. She’s not exactly fast, and she’s only got an hour before she needs to be put back on the mains, but she’s mobile. Thanks for coming out with the truck, Dad.’

‘Hey, we invited you down here to do this. Eddy Watts has the truck and barely uses it, and me driving means we don’t need to worry anyone else. You can set that big box up in the workshop. There’s air conditioning and three-phase power. No internet line, though.’

‘She’ll do fine over radio.’

‘Right. You still remember how to drive a Q-bug?’

Fox laughed as she followed him back into the hangar. ‘I think I can still manage to avoid crashing. Jackson will be envious. He told me it was a shame people didn’t drive anymore.’

‘Seems like a sensible man, considering he’s some sort of genius.’

‘Jackson is… complicated. And nice. He’s a nice guy. I think you’d like him. You’d disagree on politics and, obviously, he’s way more into technology than you, but he’s sensible, steady. He’d do anything for his daughter.’

‘Yeah, well… can’t really say we compare there, considering.’ Going silent, he climbed into the cab of the box truck he had borrowed and waited for Fox to get aboard. The engine, alcohol-fuelled, throbbed into life. ‘When you left, we all said some things that maybe we shouldn’t have let stand like that.’

‘We were all pretty angry.’

‘Maybe, but we shouldn’t have left it this long. You’re our child, Fox. Parents shouldn’t let their kids slip away like that without trying.’ He pulled the truck out and started across the concrete for the perimeter fence.

‘Same could be said for kids and their parents. In the Army, I was too busy, and too pissed off, to do anything. In the UNTPP… I met a guy, Pieter. We weren’t really talking about it, but there was an undercurrent of potential marriage. He was big on family, both parents still alive, two brothers and a sister. Dutch. His family had money. He wanted me to get back in touch with you. Didn’t nag or anything, but he’d quietly push it and I was breaking down.’

‘Lots of past tense in there.’

‘He was on my team when we went into MarTech Dallas.’

‘Ah. I didn’t realise it cost you that much.’

‘Yeah. Well, after that I wasn’t very social. Two years in New York and I had three friends. Two of those were Jackson and Terri. Sam’s hard not to get on with and he was next door. We were in and out of each other’s apartments and he’d drag me out to clubs. I mostly worked, finding my feet with NAPA, trying to bury being the so-called hero of Dallas.’

‘You and Sam… you’ve, uh…’

Fox grinned. ‘No, me and Sam haven’t uh. He’s a licensed prostitute and bodyguard. He doesn’t do much recreational sex and I needed a friend, not a lover.’

Jonathan was silent for a moment: Fox figured he was a little shocked, maybe a lot. ‘Well, he certainly was a good-looking man.’

‘You have no idea. Trained in martial arts, body like a god. Tends to walk around barefoot and with no shirt on.’

‘Huh. A father does not like to hear this kind of thing from his daughter, you know?’ Fox laughed at that. ‘Anyway, um, Marie seems like a nice girl.’

‘She is. Pretty, smart, and I won’t mention her other attributes to save your blushes. Dad, I know you’re not homophobic, and I know you’re not entirely comfortable with same-sex relationships. You don’t have to make nice about it, but it’s there and I like her, so maybe we should just keep quiet about my personal relationships.’

‘Works for me, I guess. Remember Daniel Berkewitz? You were seeing him for a while in your teens.’

‘Danny? Sure. I remember Danny.’

‘Oh, he’s Daniel now. He’s a minister.’

‘Danny?! You’re not serious!’

‘Church of God’s Mind. His parents didn’t speak to him for a couple of years, but he brought them round. They say he’s still a Christian, and that’s what counts, even if he has some funny ideas.’

‘They’re the ones who want to join with God by uploading onto the internet, right? He always did like technology and his parents thumped that Bible pretty hard. Huh, Danny a minister. I remember him fumbling with my bra hooks.’

‘And we’re back to places I don’t want to hear about.’

Fox laughed again. It was nice, driving toward Topeka with her father. When she had left, it had been on a local bus. Topeka had a small maglev system but it did not go out to the airport then. ‘Hey, did they ever take the train lines out to the airport?’

‘Three years ago. By local subscription. Never could get the budget from central government.’

‘Central government doesn’t have a budget. Or I never saw any of it in NAPA. It’s the same all over, you know? Minimal government. You asked for it, you got it, and it’s pretty damn useless. No point in complaining about it.’

‘You may be right,’ he said after a short pause. ‘You know how it is out here. All the administration is out on the east coast and we feel like we’re forgotten. We produce half their damn food and they don’t seem to know we’re here.’

Fox was silent, partially because he was right. The problem was that they had got where they were because that was what people wanted, and instead of moving back, they just seemed to want to go forward. And she was not interested in talking politics; it would just lead to arguments. ‘City hasn’t changed much,’ she said.

Topeka was a fairly low city. An enterprising property baron had built one arcology there, in the north of the city, but it was different from the designs in the more space-strapped east. This one was a huge, stepped pyramid, buttressed and fitted with retractable shields to prevent damage if a tornado happened to hit it. The rest of the city was, as far as she knew, not that different from how it had been at the beginning of the century. They were not going far in, the house she had grown up in was on the south-east side and the airport was to the south, but she remembered going to malls and coffee shops in the city with friends.

‘If you get the time, you should go in,’ Jonathan said. ‘It’s changed a bit in a decade, but you’ll still find places you know. University’s still there. Remember when you wanted to go there to study agriculture?’

‘I was twelve, but yeah, I remember.’ A year later, Susy Linekar had died in a mall in Topeka and Fox had known she needed to do something else with her life. Her parents had never understood and she did not feel like bringing that up now. ‘Is there a local fabricator I can order from? I need a change of clothes, or two. How can Mom complain about the temperature in New York for God’s sake?’

‘Ha! Your mother’s so used to complaining about the metros that she couldn’t stop herself, even when she was cooing over the shops. Bought three new dresses while we were there.’

‘Yeah, what’s with that? I remember her in jeans and sweaters, respectable dresses in summer.’

‘Huh.’ He was silent for a little too long and then, ‘She got herself a new lease of life when I “retired” and she started up the politics. She’ll be showing off one of her new outfits tonight, I’d imagine. We have a few people coming over, you know, welcoming you back, sort of.’

Fox grimaced. ‘Oh, right…’

‘I tried to talk her out of it, but she was determined. You and her have always had a stubborn streak.’

‘Can’t argue that one, I guess. I’d say we know what we want. And I grew out of it, mostly.’

‘I’ll take that on advisement. Anyway, you’ll like some of the folks coming. Old Bart Wade’ll be there.’

‘He’s still alive?’

‘Ninety-three and still the same old curmudgeon. Had a bit of a scare a couple of years back. Had to have an artificial heart put in. He got his hips and knees replaced five years ago. He was slowing down a little before that. Doesn’t smoke as much as he did, but he still drinks like a fish. His liver will be next. Joke is he’ll be the first man in Topeka to have his whole body converted to cybernetics. He says he’s worth more as scrap than he is for anything else.’

‘I doubt that. I still remember him telling me stories on his front stoop.’

‘He still sits out there of a summer evening, watching the world go by. Some things change, but plenty stays the same as always.’

~~~

The house, a two-storey building of wood with shutters on the windows and broad, overhanging eaves, had not changed any since Fox had last seen it, though it looked to have been repainted where it needed it. It had been put up in the Revived Prairie School style and Jonathan had always liked the construction, solid, well-built, what he called ‘honest workmanship.’ There was still a garden at the back, and the trees set around the house did not seem any taller than they had been, or smaller for that matter.

There were a couple of new buildings on the plot, however. Some of the garden had been lost to a brick-built structure roofed to follow the same lines as the house. That had a garage at the front and a workshop at the back, which was going to be Pythia’s home for their stay. Behind the garden was a more workmanlike barn and where there had been scrub land down to the river, there were fields and a greenhouse.

There was space in the garage to house Pythia’s mobile frames, so they were unloaded quickly and then Fox supervised Pythia rolling onto the truck’s rear lift to proceed into the workshop. Pythia did not comment, despite not really needing the help, and the delaying tactic did not really work since Andrea came out after a few minutes.

It was Monday, nearing lunchtime, and Fox was happy to see that her mother seemed to have some sense since she was wearing a fairly simple, blue summer dress, though the pleated skirt was a little shorter than Fox remembered from her childhood.

‘Welcome home, Tara,’ Andrea said, smiling.

‘Thanks. It’s actually nice to be back. Once I’ve got Pythia hooked up to the mains, I’ll come in.’

‘Of course. That’s a very big box.’

‘Pythia’s a class three, but she’s very intelligent and, so I’m told, the basic code behind artificial intelligence doesn’t scale well. So for such a bright mind, you need a stupidly powerful processor.’

‘Oh, don’t tell Danny Berkewitz that. He won’t want to know there’s something, well, not quite right about the way they’re made.’

‘Huh,’ Fox grinned. ‘Dad said he’d joined the Church.’

‘A church, certainly. You know, he told me once that some of them believe that AIs are angels sent from God.’

‘Really? Kit, are you an angel sent from God?’

The foxy avatar appeared, looking a little perplexed. ‘If I am, no one mentioned it to me.’

‘I thought Kit was, um, “housed” in that server in your house,’ Andrea said.

‘I am, Mrs Meridian. However, I am able to spawn copies of myself which can act independently. The copy you are talking to executes on a quantum processor in Fox’s arm.’

‘In… your arm?’

Fox raised her right hand, wriggling her fingers. ‘Yeah. It’s cybernetic from just below the elbow.’

Andrea’s eyes widened and, for once, Fox saw what looked like genuine concern in her mother’s eyes. ‘When did that happen? The Army?’

‘No, February this year. My arm was crushed by a man with a grudge. MarTech arranged for it to be replaced since I was rescuing Terri Martins at the time. Good as new, maybe a little better and…’ She paused as Andrea moved forward, tentatively taking Fox’s hand in hers, fingers stroking over the artificial flesh. ‘And it’s really hard to tell the difference.’

‘When you went away,’ Andrea said, her voice slow and quiet, ‘I was so angry. And, yes, it was about going against what we believed, but it was worry too. I was worried about this, or a body bag. I didn’t want to see a man in a dress uniform standing on my doorstep one day. When we heard you’d gone into that bunker in Dallas… And then the relief when you got out of it. Now this…’

‘It’s okay. I’m okay. And I’m doing good things, things that matter. My work saved a girl from being raped and murdered, Mom. That was just last month.’

‘I just get worried, that’s all.’

‘Mom, you could be killed walking to the shops. Dad’s out there farming. Have you any idea what the statistics are on agricultural accidents?’

‘I’m all too aware,’ Andrea replied, her tone indicating that that particular argument had been done to death.

‘You don’t want to go there, Fox,’ Jonathan said as he emerged from the garage. ‘I plugged your box in. She’s got a sweet voice, and it’s kind of sweet you two holding hands.’

‘Her arm’s artificial, Jonathan.’

‘Not all of it,’ Fox said. ‘Look, let’s go in and get a drink. Something cold would be good. I’ll tell you the whole story. We have to catch up sometime, I guess, and I need a break before I go visit the Batesons.’

‘Lemonade then,’ Andrea said, turning without letting go of Fox’s hand.

~~~

The Batesons lived in a house about a kilometre to the north, near Big Shunga Park which was where they held the weekly market. A ranch-style house, wood frame with a yard out back. Fox had never been there, but she had met the Batesons once or twice. Dredging her memory, she had come up with vague images of them: a tall, rather stern man and a smaller, timid woman. There were the images, and an odd sense of unease.

She took one of the family Q-bugs up to the house. It was a quad-bike with a fairly powerful electric motor. She took it easy driving the thing because she had not ridden one in years. The on-board computer was just about good enough to handle the navigation task and Kit was exceptionally sarcastic about it.

‘Get me the local dealership, would you, Kit?’ Fox said as she pulled the Q-bug up and cut the engine. ‘I think one of these would go well on Pythia’s vertol, as ground transport. We can get something with a bigger processor.’

‘I think that would be wise, Fox,’ Kit replied, ‘and you can put it on company expenses.’

‘I thought that too. Now, let’s talk to the Batesons. Keep an eye out. There’s something about them… I don’t know. It’s a feeling that comes with the memories of them.’

‘Those are purely organic memories. I don’t have access to them unless you bring them out through your visual cortex.’

‘I know. I want impressions of what they’re like now. We’ll cross-reference later.’

The door opened before Fox got to it and she was presented with the timid woman she remembered: Crystal Anne Bateson, age 37. She looked older. She was a pretty woman, long blonde hair, and a figure which suggested bodysculpting or a lot of personal effort; there were no obvious signs of shaping about her that Fox’s image-enhancement software could pick up, so the lush curves were likely natural. There was, however, something for the imaging software to pick up: a darkening along her high, right cheekbone that was supposed to be covered by the blending foundation she had coated over a face which did not need cosmetics to look beautiful. But then people got bruises and they wore too much make-up. But the blue eyes were clouded, too old for the face.

‘Mrs Bateson, I’m Tara Meridian. I think my parents said I would be coming.’

‘Oh. Yes, of course. You’re going to find Sandy.’ Her voice was melodious, probably very nice when it was not flat, a drone of unemotional weariness. Fox decided that the heavy shadowing around the eyes was designed to hide the fact that Crystal Bateson had been crying. Not unreasonable. ‘My husband isn’t here yet. He’s on his way back.’ She looked reluctant to let Fox in without her husband being there.

‘Perhaps I could look around the outside of the house first. I’ll take a walk over to the market site and come back shortly.’

Relief, a slight smile. ‘Yes, of course.’

Fox heard the door close quickly behind her, ignored that and walked around the side to a gate which let her out onto a patio which ran along the back of the house. A sun lounger was set up there and there were planters filled with brightly coloured flowers. Along the wall of the house, broken by accesses to a door and a patio door, there were fairly narrow borders cut into the paving. Climbing roses went up from there.

Fox looked over the yard, and noted the towel which had been left on the lounger and the fussy, pristine planting. This was Crystal’s zone. She had been out in the sun this morning while her husband was out at work. Now she was back in the house, dressed in a smart, white blouse and a respectable-but-sexy, mid-thigh, pleated skirt, and wearing high-heels.

Scanning the windows suggested that Sandy had the room at the far end, just from the curtains Fox could see in the window: candy-pink did not suit the adults of the house. She walked over, scanning the frame. Since the drapes were closed, she could not see in, but her software brought her attention quickly to a partial bootprint in the soil of the bed under the window. Someone had stood here, perhaps looking in, and not that long ago, but then it could have been a cop doing what she was doing. ‘Kit, contact the local regional office and request an interview with the detective assigned to the case.’

‘Detective Rogers. I’ll send the request immediately, and task Pythia to scan the print, assuming we get permission from the Batesons.’

Fox smiled and headed back around the house and crossed the road. The park, and so the market site, was all of a hundred metres away, accessed via a short road with houses not unlike the one the Batesons lived in. There was a fair bit of similarity about the area: Fox figured this was the suburbia she had seen a few times, but never really been near. Behind the windows of identical boxes, the richer agricultural workers would be living identical lives. Or, at this time of day on a Monday, their wives would be. She could not recall the statistics and did not feel like asking Kit for them, but she was fairly sure the wives who worked in Topeka worked from home while the men went out to the fields. Not that farming was anywhere near as physically intensive now, and not that women could not handle it anyway, but some old habits died hard.

All that could be seen of the market itself now was a few areas of concrete which had been put in to support heavy machinery, Fox figured, and some rows of cut paving stone which had been set into the grass. The rows marked the lines of stalls and there were quite a few. The market had been going for a long time, at least twenty years. Fox remembered it as a small affair, but this seemed as though it had grown and become more regulated. There were camera pods mounted on posts at the ends of each row of paving stones. Those had not been there when Fox had last been to the market.

‘The cameras must put a crimp in some people’s style,’ Fox commented. ‘Local kids used to consider it a game to try to lift a few apples or whatever. The older ones thought this was a great place for meeting members of the opposite sex, especially in summer when the ground was guaranteed dry and the bushes were at their thickest.’

‘Local news media suggests that the cameras were put in six years ago,’ Kit supplied. ‘There were complaints about a rise in more professional thievery. These were linked to dustbowl dwellers who started coming here more frequently.’

‘Gangs?’

‘This appears to be more like survivalists. Who may belong to a gang, of course. There are no reports of violence associated with the rise in numbers. They appear to be here to trade. In the last three years, some of them have actually begun selling at the market, on official stalls.’

‘Okay. See if we can get the camera data for last market day. Pythia can run through it and see if she can see Sandy. Maybe we can get some indication of her state of mind, and spot friends she may have talked to and anyone trailing her.’

‘Might we return on Wednesday? I believe there is another market on then.’

‘Every week now. It was once a month when it started. We’ll come down and see what’s happening, but I’d like to have an idea of what we’d be looking for by then.’

‘Of course. Detective Rogers has accepted the request and suggests zero nine thirty tomorrow at the precinct.’

Fox nodded, turned, and started back toward the Batesons’ house. ‘Unless it’s changed, it’s not exactly a precinct. Let’s go see if Mister Bateson has come back.’

From the looks of it, he had. There was now a large, 4x4 truck parked up in front of the house. The flat bed at the back was empty and very clean, and the vehicle seemed like overkill, but having a big car for no reason was only a crime against common sense.

The door opened ahead of her again, but this time Crystal stepped back almost immediately to be replaced by Malcolm. The man was big, tall, and powerfully built, with a moderately handsome face, though it had looked better in Fox’s memory. It looked like he had had his nose broken since Fox had last seen him, and he was the kind of man who would have taped it over and not worried about it. He had the kind of solid, lantern jaw that masculine men were supposed to have, short dirty blonde hair, and cold, blue eyes which scanned over Fox as she approached.

‘You’re Jonathan Meridian’s daughter?’ Malcolm asked before she could speak.

‘That’s right. They asked me to come over and see if I could locate your daughter.’

‘You’d better come in.’ He turned, vanishing into the hallway beyond and leaving his wife to lead Fox through to the lounge, on the right, in his wake. ‘Napper detective says she’s probably run away,’ Malcolm went on without even waiting for Fox to properly enter the room. He had positioned himself in front of what was presumably a large, mock fireplace: mock because no one burned wood for heat in the home, not even in Topeka. He stood there with his arms behind his straight back. ‘He’s hunting in Chicago and Detroit. Wouldn’t believe me when I said she’d been taken.’

‘Why do you think she has, sir?’ Fox asked. No one had asked her to sit and he was still standing, so Fox remained on her feet. And noticed the slash of Malcolm’s eyes. Anger? If so, why?

‘She went missing last Wednesday, market day. They’ve been coming here for the market for the last couple of years. I’ve seen them, watching girls. I’ve seen them watching Sandy.’

‘She went missing from the market?’ He looked at her for a second. ‘I’ve not seen any of the police reports. I’m fresh eyes on the case.’

‘She was taken out of her room, Wednesday night, Thursday morning. She was in bed at eleven. I checked in on her. In the morning, she was gone.’

‘Did Detective Rogers check her room?’

‘He looked it over. Said there was no sign of a break-in or a struggle.’

Fox nodded. ‘I’d like permission to run a full forensic sweep of the room. Maybe there’s something there to suggest how and when she went. Something that’s not obvious which would confirm your opinion. It’ll take a few hours. I can come back and set it up first thing tomorrow, if you’re agreeable.’

‘You’ll find evidence of who took her?’

‘If there’s any there, I’ll find it. My parents asked me down here because I have access to the best technology in the world for analysing crime scenes, Mister Bateson.’

‘All right. I’ll be gone at eight. Crystal can let you in after that.’

Fox nodded. Was he not fond of women, cops, or having his time disturbed? ‘Did Sandy have any friends?’

‘Of course she had friends.’

‘It would be useful to talk to some of them. Any of them particularly good friends? A boyfriend, perhaps?’

He scowled. ‘She didn’t have a boyfriend. Crystal, what was the name of that girl? The one that comes round here sometimes?’

‘Um, Trudy. Trudy Shane. She lives five doors up the street.’ Fox glanced around to see that Crystal was also still on her feet, standing there in silence until spoken to. The woman’s hands were clasped in front of her hips, fingers twisting together nervously. ‘Sandy doesn’t have a lot of friends,’ Crystal added. ‘Trudy was probably the best.’

‘She’s quiet, a good girl,’ Malcolm stated, drawing Fox’s attention back to him. ‘My Sandy’s a good girl.’

‘I’m sure she is,’ Fox replied. ‘How about a diary? A lot of kids keep a diary on a wearable or implant–’

‘Sandy’s a good girl. She doesn’t have a personal computer of any kind. I don’t believe in implants and the internet’s just full of… inappropriate behaviour.’

Fox smiled. ‘Yes, of course. All right, Detective Rogers is chasing the runaway angle. Let me be clear that I’ll be checking any other possibilities. There’s no sense in duplicating effort, but… Can you think of any reason why Sandy might have wanted to leave? Anything. Maybe she was being bullied, or had some other problem.’

‘No,’ Malcolm said, and there was the flash in his eyes which, this time, Fox was sure was anger. ‘If she was being bullied by anyone, I’d have known and dealt with it. She was home-schooled. Didn’t want to go to college. She was happy here, with us.’

‘Good, then we can concentrate on finding out where she was taken. I’ll come back tomorrow with my equipment.’ Fox turned as Malcolm nodded and found Crystal already leading the way out.

‘Do you really think you can find her, Miss Meridian?’ Crystal asked as she showed Fox out through the door. Her voice was low, almost inaudible, as though she did not want her husband hearing, but it could have been worry for her daughter…

‘I’m very good at what I do, Mrs Bateson. If she can be found, I’ll find her.’

‘She’s my only child. I can’t have more. She…’ Crystal trailed off.

‘I’ll find her, Mrs Bateson. I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Yes. I’ll see you then.’

~~~

The first stop on the way back was a local fabrication unit where she put in an order for several changes of clothes, waited for one of those, a dress for the party her mother had foisted on her, and then headed out to the dealership Kit had found.

She pulled up her bug in the customer parking area of a large lot, stepped off, and swept her gaze over the array of SUVs, lighter ground cars, light trucks, and a moderately large selection of Q-bugs.

‘Kit, can you check their stock and find something suitable?’

‘There is an online catalogue with stock levels. I can go through it.’

‘I’ll deal with…’ She trailed off as the face of the salesman grinning brightly at her as he approached began to push at memories.

‘Good afternoon, miss,’ the man said. ‘In the market for a new bug?’ He was good: the grin looked genuine, maybe even was. He was tall, slim, lightly muscled, and handsome. The hair, she thought, was dyed blonde, and those eyes were a brighter blue than she remembered. He had had a little work done on his face too: his nose had been thicker and the jawline had been tightened, sculpted.

‘I might be, Simon, yeah. No part-exchange though, it’s my Dad’s. I need a new one.’

His grin turned puzzled and then brightened again as she saw his eyes flick to her hair. ‘Fox? Fox Meridian? Shit! You’re back in Topeka?’

‘It’s temporary.’

‘You were in the Army. And then the Lensmen, right? Are you on a case?’

‘Left the UNTPP, joined NAPA. Left NAPA, now I’m with Palladium Security Solutions. I was asked to work a missing persons case. What the Hell happened to your face?’

‘Huh.’ He lifted a hand to rub over his jaw. ‘Pays to look good in this line of work. You want to come look at some bugs?’

‘Sure.’ Fox followed him across the lot to where the quad bikes were set under a low, metal-framed structure designed to keep both sun and rain off them. Not that there would be much of the latter for a while.

‘I take it you know this gentleman?’ Kit asked inside Fox’s head.

‘Simon Tailor. I knew him when I lived here, though he looked a little different.’

‘We want the Hunter-Benz Sand Viper. Uprated motors, one of MarTech’s latest AI-capable embedded computers. The standard AI is quite capable.’

‘Okay.’ Fox scanned the vehicles, looking for the one Kit had mentioned.

‘Well, this is the range,’ Simon said. ‘We’ve got a couple of GM Panthers, like the one you’re riding. I can let you have one of those for five and a half.’

‘I need something with a little more processing power in the on-board.’

‘Right.’ He walked over to a slightly larger vehicle, patting the saddle. ‘This is the Komodo. Little slower, but it pulls more, and the computer’s upgraded to something better than a pocket calculator. That’s going for eight thousand.’

‘Not bad.’ She pointed to a sleek, wasp-like vehicle set a little apart at the back. ‘What about that one?’

‘The Sand Viper?’ He sounded a little surprised. ‘Oh, well, that’s pretty new. Uprated motors, good pull, goes like a fucking rocket, uh, if you’ll pardon my French.’

‘Pardoned,’ Fox replied, flashing him a grin. ‘You never used to swear.’

‘Yeah, well, I grew up, I guess. Computer on that’s the size of a paperback, but it’s got an AI accelerator and the embedded AI’s almost as smart as me.’

‘Didn’t you fail math?’

‘Not the second time.’

Giggling, Fox walked over and ran a hand over the seat. The faux leather was supple and well-padded, and that was as much of a selling point as the specification.

‘I could even execute a copy on this if we push the built-in aside,’ Kit said.

‘You can’t drive,’ Fox pointed out.

‘I could learn. Why should you have all the fun?’

‘Okay, I’ll take it.’

Simon blinked. ‘It’s not cheap…’

‘Company expense account.’

Simon’s grin shifted into overdrive. ‘I may be able to take the rest of the day off.’

New York Metro.

Sam raised his glass, clinking it against the one Marie was holding. ‘Here’s to being home.’

Marie grinned and took a drink. ‘You don’t think we should’ve waited for Fox to get back?’

‘No, for three good reasons.’

‘Three?’

‘Yes. One, this is me moving in and I’m quite sure you two celebrated her moving in as well.’

‘I guess we did.’

He nodded. ‘Two, Fox said not to wait, that she has a party of her own to attend tonight, and that she would raise a glass to my successful move in Topeka.’

‘She’s at a party?’

‘Her mother invited some “old friends” around to see the prodigal returned. I don’t think there were many people Fox knew, but it’s got to be done and she wasn’t really given a choice.’

‘Ah. And the third reason?’

‘When Fox gets back, we can do it again.’

Marie giggled. ‘Those are three very good reasons. I have some pity for Fox though.’

Sam shrugged. ‘She said she was going to spend as much time as possible chatting to an old neighbour who was, at least, entertaining. She also had a dress pattern fabricated which should scandalise the locals and make her mother envious, which she seemed to be enjoying.’ Another giggle. ‘She did say it with a sense of fun. I think she’s reconciled a little with her mother.’

‘Well, that’s good. And the dress sounds great.’

Topeka Agri-Zone.

A wave of silence washed over the assemblage in the large, airy lounge as Fox walked in smiling. Fox spotted a couple of rather shocked, disapproving looks, mostly on the older women, and wondered what their reaction was to her mother’s short, red dress. There were flickers of lust from some of the men, quickly suppressed, and some rapid hiding of smiles from many of the younger women, not that there were many of them. Someone, Fox was not sure who, appeared to have picked himself up a much younger wife who was looking daggers at the newcomer: it was a first impression, but Fox guessed at a mistress who had won the love-triangle battle, but was wary of her new husband’s tendency to switch sides without warning.

Fox’s dress was a black tank, plazkin at front and back with mesh sides revealing a little less than half her breasts. She had on killer heels, six and a half inches high with an inch of platform, which made her taller than just about anyone in the room and lengthened her already long legs. She had picked up a bracelet and necklace in a little jewellery outlet beside the fabricator building. Both were in silver, darkened with enamel. The necklace read ‘DIVA’ in block letters with a bright red kiss-print beneath it, while the bracelet said ‘Sexy’ in scrolling, gem-encrusted script. She had painted her nails blood red, and her lip gloss matched. Her eyes were picked out in kohl, the lids whitened to make her eyes stand out and then shaded above. The last time Fox had worn anything quite so outrageous was when she had gone out for an evening determined to return with a one-night stand.

‘I remember you in blonde pigtails,’ Jonathan said: he looked more surprised than anyone.

Fox frowned at him. ‘I was four, Dad.’

‘Girls are always little when you’re a father,’ Bart Wade said, a laugh in his voice and amusement on his face. They had put him in a chair which could be said to be in pride of place near the room’s centrepiece, a mock fireplace set with logs Fox knew were plastic. His interjection produced a rumble of laughter around the room. Bart had always been an odd combination of disreputable and respected, and if he was amused, so was everyone except the ex-mistress. Fox flashed the old man a brighter smile.

‘Damn right,’ Jonathan said firmly. ‘People, this is my daughter, Tara. The pigtails have gone and she’s been away for quite a while, but she’s come back a damn fine woman.’

‘On the executive board of Palladium Security Solutions,’ Andrea put in, sounding distinctly proud. Fox had noted her eyes narrowing earlier, but Bart’s acceptance seemed to have overcome whatever emotion that had been.

‘Don’t let that fool you,’ Fox said. ‘I’m a private investigator with a fancy title.’

‘Let’s get all the introductions out of the way,’ Jonathan suggested. ‘You don’t know all of this bunch.’

That was certainly true. Out of about twenty visitors, Fox recognised five, including Bart Wade, all of them neighbours still living in the places they had occupied when she left. Kit filed the names and faces for future reference, though Fox doubted there would be much need for it. There were newer neighbours: her mother had mostly stuck to local couples for the invite list. The area had a pretty solid, median age-range population, most of whom had had children, watched them grow up and leave the nest, and were comfortably settling into late middle age.

There was one younger man, Bruce Cauter, who was about Fox’s age and still living with his parents. He worked at the university, doing genetics work on drought-tolerant crops, and the way Andrea introduced him suggested she was entertaining relationship fantasies. The way Bruce’s eyes kept flicking down from Fox’s face suggested he was having fantasies of his own, and that he did not get out much.

Then there were the other two couples, one from the arcology to the north, and the ex-mistress and her husband from an area Fox knew as one of the substantially better-off districts. They were there because of some political connection.

The arcology couple were nice enough, older than the other couples and likely representing Topeka’s stable political wing. Ross and Sheila Runyard, who Kit quickly located online and tracked their voting delegations through LifeWeb. They were among the leadership of the local libertarian movement with a very strong handle on the voting across a large portion of the city. That said, they were warm, even though they already knew that Fox’s politics did not match theirs. They knew why she was there and they thanked her for accepting the task.

Cory Druss and his new wife, Lisette, were another matter. He was warm and welcoming in a way which suggested that Lisette was not being paranoid. Younger than the Runyards, but still a little older than the average for the room, Fox had to wonder whether Lisette was wife two or wife three. He had had age-reduction procedures, maybe even a little genetic fixing, to keep his years from showing, but it was still fairly obvious that Lisette was a good two decades his junior. His hair was the kind of jet black you could not get from nature and there was a marked limbal ring around his irises which should have faded with age and he had had put back. But Lisette was young, fit, bright, beautiful, and stacked, and should not have had a thing to worry about.

‘Ross is right,’ Cory said, his smile too broad and too full of whitened teeth. ‘We should be thanking you for taking care of this for us. These dust rats have too much freedom when they come up here, but we can’t do anything about it until we can show they’re trouble.’

‘They’re still citizens, Mister Druss,’ Fox replied. ‘It’s a free country, with free trade. And there’s no proof, as yet, that any of them were involved in Sandy Bateson’s disappearance.’

‘Of course, but I understand you’ve experience of how these gangs behave when they come up here. The incident in forty-five was terrible. Horrific.’

Fox flicked a glance at her mother who was hovering beside them and looking a little nervous for some reason. It would have been Andrea who had told Druss about Susy’s death and the effect it had had on Fox. ‘Fanatics pressed into action by United Anarchy don’t represent the majority. I blame UA for that incident, not everyone who lives in the protectorates.’

‘We like to keep a watch on them anyway.’ He was good, very good, but his eyes had hardened a little and the smile was a little more fixed than it had been.

‘Keeping your eye, and mind, open is always a good policy, Mister Druss. Nice meeting you, but I’d better keep moving or I’ll never get through all Mom’s guests.’ It was a convenient excuse and he possibly knew it: Fox had one person left to greet and she was anxious to do so, but Andrea seemed keen to move her on too.

‘Yes, it’s so nice to see so many friends here,’ Andrea said, ‘and we have time later for more conversation, I’m sure.’

Fox moved away, heading for the fireplace, and Kit piped up. ‘Mister Druss is a strong supporter of the local Watch movement. His political base is quite firm. Not as strong as the votes Mister and Mrs Runyard have been delegated.’ There was a little pause. ‘And you control more law and order votes than he does.’

Trying not to visibly blanch, Fox carried on walking. ‘What about the wife?’

‘A social politician. She has no delegated votes. Her own is openly delegated to her husband. She does have a following on LifeWeb, however, and a considerable network of contacts within the Topeka social set. When will we discuss the Batesons?’

‘In the morning. I want time to consolidate my opinions.’ Fox came to a stop, grinning down at the old man on the comfortable chair Jonathan generally sat in to read. ‘Mister Wade, I am really pleased to see you here.’

Bart Wade barked out a laugh. ‘Feeling’s mutual, Tara. And you’re old enough to call me Bart, so you do that so I can enjoy the view and not feel like such an old pervert.’

Fox smirked at him. ‘Then you call me Fox. Friends call me Fox. How are you doing?’ She perched with half her butt on the arm of his chair and accepted the glass of wine her father handed her with a nod of thanks.

‘Oh I’ve never been better.’

‘What’s left of you,’ Jonathan added, grinning.

‘Oh, half of me’s metal and plastic, but the new ticker’s good for thirty thousand miles without an oil change and they tell me I can punch through walls with my knees.’

Giggling, Fox swapped her glass to her left hand and held out her right, turning it. ‘I’m catching up. Army put a few things in and I had to have half my arm replaced earlier this year. This has metal bones and a computer in it.’

He peered at her hand: Fox guessed he had had his eyes fixed too. ‘You don’t say. May I?’ She moved her hand closer and he took it, running fingers rough with age over the skin. ‘I didn’t know they could make it that real.’

She twisted. ‘Try down toward the elbow. They tell me it’s easier to spot where it joins the real skin.’

He slid his fingers higher, a puzzled frown on his face. ‘Not at my age, girl. If there’s a difference, I can’t see it.’

Fox could, if she bothered to check and used her best image-enhancement software, the set that gave her a headache if she used it for more than a few minutes at a time. ‘It’s there. But it feels the same as ever, I think. Kind of hard to tell. I mean, do you remember what your arm feels like?’

‘Lucky if I can remember my age. So you’re some high-flying company executive now? Bit of a change from the girl who went off to join the Army.’

‘Army transferred me into the UNTPP, antiterrorism and special operations. Moved on to NAPA, and then Jackson Martins suckered me into taking a job on the board of his security firm. Still not sure how that happened, but mostly I still get to investigate crimes.’

‘The Bateson girl. Bad business. Don’t know the family, but it’s been on the local news feeds. What?’

‘I recall you thinking all this internet news was the death of journalism.’

‘And I was right, but you have to get your news from somewhere.’ She could not really argue the point. Certainly impartial journalism was basically a thing of the past. ‘You think you can find her?’

‘I’ve had a few hours looking into it. I talked to her parents this afternoon.’

‘And went shopping. I saw that shiny new Q-bug parked up outside.’

‘Dad’s fault. He reminded me how useful they are. That goes in my kitbag for running investigations and I don’t have to borrow that old thing he’s using.’

‘That old thing has done me fine for a good eight years without a complaint,’ Jonathan pointed out.

‘Yes, but you don’t have to hear the complaints about the on-board from a sarcastic AI. Kit was very disparaging about that computer, and this model has an uprated motor with bigger batteries. Got the same range and it’ll pull a bigger load.’

Jonathan looked thoughtful and Bart let out a rasping laugh. ‘Now you got him thinking.’

‘It’s not cheap. That’s why I bought it on the company. They had an uprated version of your Panther, the Komodo, that’ll haul more. Bit slower. The Sand Viper’s got a top speed that scares me.’ She grimaced. ‘Kit wants to learn to drive it.’

‘You did not have to say it like that,’ Kit commented.

‘Who’s this Kit?’ Bart asked. ‘An AI, you say?’

‘My personal assistant,’ Fox told him. ‘I’d introduce you, but I’m betting you never got an implant.’

‘Ha! Shows what you know,’ Bart replied. ‘They put one in when they did my heart. Mostly use it to monitor my health, mind. I got software on there that links it direct to my health company. Eupraxia Medical, that’s one of Martins’ companies, right?’

‘To be honest, MarTech Technologies is Jackson’s company. The others are what falls out of what Technologies produces. Oh, there’s BioTek which does the more organic research. Jackson’s a genius, but he’s not a geneticist. But, yeah, Eupraxia handles medical services. I hope we have a satisfied customer?’

‘As long as my blood’s still pumping, I think they’re doing a good job. Now where’s this assistant of yours?’

You could tell the people in the room who had VR implants because they all paused as the kitsune avatar appeared in front of Bart’s chair, standing beside Jonathan, who could not see her. Bruce Cauter’s Adam’s apple bounced like a cork in a hurricane.

‘Well, isn’t she just the cutest thing you ever saw?’ Bart said.

‘Thank you, Mister Wade,’ Kit said, smiling. ‘It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.’

‘You have a very fine tail, girl.’

‘My avatar was fashioned after a kitsune, a Japanese fox-spirit. They can have a number of tails, but one is quite enough for me.’

‘Well, it certainly is a good one.’ Kit’s tail flicked playfully in response and her cheeks coloured a little. ‘Now you have to be one of those proper AIs, with emotions and everything.’

‘She’s a class four,’ Fox said. ‘She’s smart, and she’s getting to be quite a good detective herself. Her model isn’t on the market yet, but I think they’ll be popular when they are. She’s only seven months old and she’s learning fast.’

‘Got a pretty blush too,’ Bart said, grinning and making Kit blush even more.

‘It is really weird listening to two-thirds of a conversation,’ Jonathan said.

‘Please apologise to your father, Fox, for my lack of visibility,’ Kit said.

‘I will not,’ Fox replied, smirking at her father. ‘If he wants to be part of the conversation, he should have an implant like us modern folks.’

‘Huh,’ Bart grunted. ‘No one’s ever accused me of being modern before.’

New York Metro.

Marie looked up as Sam walked back into the room. Something fluttered in her stomach. He was shirtless, which was not uncommon for him. She might have checked his feet and discovered he was barefoot, but her eyes were fixed on his chest and the way his muscles shifted under the skin even doing something as simple as walking. She had seen him like that several times now, while she had been staying in Fox’s apartment, since he would wander in, oblivious to the effect he had. Or apparently oblivious, since he acted as though it was totally normal. She should have been used to it, but the flutter happened every damn time.

‘What does your tattoo say today?’ she managed, hoping it covered up the staring.

‘It says “bǐng,” which is “happy.”’

‘How do you change it?’

He sat down beside her and picked up his wine, noticed her glass was empty, and reached for the bottle. ‘There’s software on my implant. The pattern is formed by artificial pigmentation cells embedded in the skin and driven by a computer the size of a large cell. And that’s under-utilised. Very simple. I’ve seen people with them covering their entire torso with enough resolution to print out book pages, and they’re saying the next generation will be colour-capable.’

Marie giggled. ‘I guess you could have some wild tattoos that way. I wonder if Fox has got bored and killed anyone yet.’

‘Fox doesn’t normally go around killing people.’

‘Yeah, but under the circumstances…’ She picked up her wine, took a drink, and watched the world give a small wobble. ‘I may have had too much of this.’

‘It is wisdom to know when one has had enough.’

‘I’m not sure I’d describe me as wise…’

Topeka Agri-Zone.

Fox had had enough after ninety minutes of shuffling around between various people she either barely remembered or did not know. Despite Andrea’s plans, Bruce looked horrified whenever he was in danger of having to speak to her: his eyes bulged and he tugged at his shirt collar as though it had suddenly grown too tight. And he was the only person there with even a slight degree of interest for her since the genetics sounded like it might be worth hearing about. Him and Bart, of course, and when Fox noticed he was missing from his seat, she made excuses about needing some air and stepped outside.

Bart Wade was, as she had expected, sitting out on the veranda. At home, he sat on the steps leading up to his door, but there were none of those here. The veranda had a little loveseat which worked better, in Fox’s opinion, and he did not object when she sat down beside him.

‘Too much of a mediocre thing?’ he asked.

‘Bruce Cauter’s job might be interesting, but he can’t seem to look at my face and his throat clogs up when I get near him.’

‘There’s a reason that young man still lives with his parents.’

‘I’d worked that out. Can you tell me why my mother appears and hovers like a mother hen whenever I get anywhere near Cory Druss?’

Bart gave a grunt. ‘You asked your father?’

‘He said I was imagining it.’

‘Huh. Andrea’s involved more with the politics than Jonathan is. Druss is big on the Watch and “independent, local policing.”’

‘I’m aware, and I think it’s reasonably known that I don’t really agree. But you said that like it was a euphemism.’

‘Big word. Is that like a lie?’

‘The words have… certain similarities. Obscuring the truth with pleasant niceties might be better than lie.’

‘Druss’s idea of independent isn’t mine. He’d like a force that’s under his thumb. Not saying he’s a crook, just a politician.’ That Bart considered the two virtually identical was obvious. ‘He didn’t start the Watch, but he’s been shaping it, and Andrea’s fallen for his line. Druss is working away trying to pull votes out from under Ross and Sheila Runyard, or so I hear, and he’s not too worried about what he has to do to get them.’

‘Oh.’

‘Pretty regular visitor here.’ It was the way he said it, light, easy, just a little hint of something like annoyance.

‘Oh?’

‘Usually while Jonathan’s out in his fields or away from the house. He likes younger women, but your mother’s a striking one and she’s got a fair old sack of votes under her thumb.’

Fox sat in silence for a few seconds. ‘Probably just discussing politics.’

‘Oh, yes. Every Tuesday and Thursday.’

‘Yeah. Does Dad know?’

‘That I’m not sure on. Us men can be damn unobservant, especially when we don’t want to see something.’

‘To be clear, you don’t know, you’re just putting two and two together?’

‘That would be a fair assessment. Not like I spy on them or anything.’

‘No, you can leave that to me. Shit. Tell me a story, Bart. Take my mind off it until morning.’

‘Huh. How about indulging an old man and telling me one. Like how did you lose that arm?’

Fox barked out a laugh. ‘Okay. Why not?’

New York Metro, 29th June.

Marie lay in bed, very, very still, trying to remember what her body was supposed to feel like, and the other thing, which she was trying not to think about. Her head was throbbing with a vehemence she could not remember in a long time. Her mouth tasted as though a family of chipmunks had settled in it and made a nest. She thought they might be raising a litter in there, but she was not sure.

She heard a sound and blanked it immediately, focusing on keeping her eyes closed and her breathing even, and hoping that the other thing would go away. Any time would do, but then… How was it going to go away if she was still lying naked in Sam’s bed?

‘You should really get up,’ Sam said. There was a hint of humour in his voice. How could he think this was funny? ‘There’s Painaway and water beside you. You should drink water. You were fairly wasted last night.’ She kept still. ‘I’ll let you get dressed. I ordered something which should sit okay in your stomach.’

Hearing him leave, Marie opened her eyes and immediately wished she had not, but she struggled onward anyway. Fumbling a pair of pills from the blister pack, she tossed them into her mouth and then chased them down with the entire glass of water, and then she sat still for another few minutes praying to any deity who might be listening that the pain would go away. At least the water had washed out the chipmunks.

Her clothes, the shorts and strappy top she had been wearing the night before, were placed carefully on a chair which sat beside the large, firm, very comfortable bed. She knew that it was a dynamic mattress, with settings for sleep and sex, because the subject had come up the night before. She remembered that. Things got a bit hazy not long after, but… But she had woken up naked in Sam’s bed.

Dressing quickly, she got to her feet, swayed a little, straightened her back, lifted her chin, and headed for the lounge. That meant going out into the hallway and the urge to head straight down to her apartment where she could freak out in private was strong, but she kept going.

‘You face it, girl,’ she muttered to herself. ‘You screwed up and fucked Sam, and Fox will be… Don’t know, but it’s not good. Oh, shit.’ She had screwed things up really badly and she did not even remember it!

‘You look,’ Sam said, ‘as though you’re walking to a firing squad. Cheer up.’

Marie sagged. ‘Cheer up? How can I cheer up after what happened last night?’

His eyes narrowed a little. ‘We got drunk. You got very drunk.’

‘And then I woke up and realised what had happened.’

‘The hangover would be something of a clue.’ He was really amused about this.

‘What’s Fox going to say? Don’t you care?’

‘She’ll say, “Damn, I wish I’d been there.”’

‘What?! Look, Mister Sex God, you may be used to threesomes in your line of work, but I–’ She stopped as he burst into laughter. ‘What the fuck’s so funny?!’

‘Marie, I have never, in my entire life, had to get a girl so drunk that she passed out so I could have sex with her.’

Marie’s cheeks reached the temperature of a fusion reactor in a little under a second. Her head throbbed harder. ‘Ow… Ow…’ Stumbling forward, she found a chair and sat down. ‘Ow… You mean we didn’t…?’

‘If I’d had sex last night, I feel sure I would remember it, even if you don’t. Which, I assume, you do not?’

‘No. I woke up in your bed, naked. I kind of figured, because you’re gorgeous and all that, that I must’ve seduced you.’

The grin on Sam’s face was becoming irritating. ‘You were in no condition to seduce anyone. You woke up naked because I undressed you and you were not wearing underwear. Not that it should matter. I’m a professional. And you were in my bed because I decided that getting you down that narrow staircase would likely result in bruises. Wait. Belle?’

The prim and pristine avatar appeared beside the table instantly. ‘Sam, how can I be of service?’

‘You’ve got eyes everywhere. Did anyone in this house have sex last night?’

‘No, Sam. Your breakfast is on its way up from the kitchen. I have taken the liberty of preparing a tonic of rehydration salts for Marie. Marie, perhaps you should allow me to tidy the house today. It is no trouble and you may feel unwell for another few hours.’

‘Thanks, Belle,’ Marie managed. She felt utterly mortified and the assurance from the house AI was not helping. Belle vanished, one of the house robots walked in with a tray, and Marie dropped her head on the table and groaned.

‘What’s the matter? You didn’t cheat on Fox, you got drunk, but–’

‘You undressed me, put me in bed, slept right beside me all night.’

‘Yes. I admit to a little twinge of guilt since undressing you was not a chore. You’ve a fine body, I’m a man, and I’d had a few myself. I caught myself wishing you hadn’t fallen asleep.’

‘Well thanks, that doesn’t help. I slept with a really hot, naked man, and I don’t remember a damn thing!’

Topeka Agri-Zone.

Crystal Bateson sunbathed naked. Fox could see her on a lounger in the backyard, lying there in the sun with a timer beside her. Fox figured it would be fifteen minutes per side, and naked sun worship did not seem in the timid Crystal’s repertoire, but there she was.

Turning from the window of Sandy’s room, Fox checked the forensic swarms had deployed correctly and then picked her way out into the hall. There she leaned against a wall and pulled up the images being relayed from the single scan-head she was using. ‘Okay, so what do you make of the Batesons?’

‘Mister Bateson is the master of the house,’ Kit replied. ‘His wife is definitely subordinate. She speaks when spoken to and prefers that her husband deals with all matters regarding the case. She has bruising on her face and right wrist, the latter commensurate with being gripped very firmly by a large hand. His hands are large. I believe that Mister Bateson strikes his wife, possibly quite regularly. She exhibits behaviour associated with domestic abuse victims.’

‘We agree so far. How about the sunbathing? Her daughter is missing, there’s a stranger digging around in her house, and she decides on some naked lounging in the yard.’

There was a fractional pause. ‘I would say that Mister Bateson does not like tan lines. He expects a clean, tidy house when he comes home, and the dinner ready for him. Mrs Bateson has a summer routine of topping up her tan before the sun gets too hot and prior to housework. A missing daughter is not sufficient cause to see his requirements are not met and she is too afraid of him to stop.’

‘Batting ten for ten, Kit. Of course, we could be wrong, but she doesn’t seem the callous type.’

‘While he does. I admit to being somewhat worried about what the swarms are going to find in Sandy’s room.’

‘You’re thinking that, maybe, Mister Bateson tucks his daughter in at night in a rather un-fatherly way?’

‘Yes. I feel sure he hits her, but my worry is that he does worse.’

‘That’s my worry too. Hold on, what’s that?’ Fox snapped a display up to fill her vision and tightened it in on a section. ‘Terahertz radar is picking up an object hidden under her bed. Does that look like a pocket computer to you?’

‘It is the right size and shape, but that is about as good as this technology will give us.’

Nodding, Fox turned and slipped back into the room. Kneeling beside the bed, she ran her hand along the underside of it. It was a box-style frame with cloth sewn beneath it, but there was no sign of a hole. Then she found it: there was a patch sewn in place over the hessian, lightly tacked in place. Pulling that free revealed a rip which could have been an accident, but was probably not. Fox reached in, used the radar image as a guide, and pulled out the box.

‘Yup, small portable, pocket-sized. Not powerful, but enough to run a few basic functions.’

‘Like a diary?’

‘Like a diary.’ Getting to her feet, Fox slipped the box into her bag. ‘We didn’t find this. If it’s all innocent, then we’re not getting Sandy in trouble for having it.’

‘I have another worry, Fox.’

‘Oh? What’s that?’

‘I worry that Sandy’s diary will not be describable as “innocent.”’

~~~

‘Nice outfit,’ Detective Rogers said as Fox sat down across the desk from him.

Fox had received her delivery of clothes and picked out a spaghetti-strapped top and a pair of lightweight slacks. The effect was not too unprofessional, but she had to admit that it showed off cleavage. Kit had reminded her to put sunblock on her exposed skin. ‘It’s hot out,’ Fox replied, ‘and I don’t have to wear a suit.’

‘Fair point. What can I do for you, Miss Meridian?’ Rogers was a good, solid sort of cop, probably no older than Fox was and still a detective. Short mid-brown hair, not unattractive, but nothing to write home about. Nice eyes: really clear and blue.

‘I said I’d been contracted to run a parallel investigation into Sandy Bateson’s disappearance?’

‘You did. You’re trying out this “kidnapped by a gang” theory of Bateson’s?’

‘It’s not just him, apparently. I ran into a guy called Cory Druss last night and–’

‘I know Druss.’ His tone told Fox all she needed to know.

‘Struck me as a bit of an asshole, but he thinks the same as Malcolm Bateson. I’ve got a forensic swarm going over Sandy’s bedroom. I’d like to get access to medical records and camera footage from the market on the day she went missing. And I’d like to hear why you’re going with the runaway theory.’

‘He let you run a swarm over her room?’

‘He didn’t look entirely happy about it, but he agreed. I told him I might find evidence to back his idea.’

‘I wanted to do the same, but he said there was nothing there, no sign of forced entry. I didn’t have enough to force it. He’s right, there was no sign of forced entry, which is one of the main reasons I think she lit out.’ He paused, apparently considering his words. ‘Look, you’ve met them, talked to them. You didn’t come away thinking she might have had reason to run?’

‘I’m reserving final judgement.’

‘My read is that he hits her, both of them, the wife too. She told me she was clumsy, the wife. Said she’d walked into a door. Seriously? That old cliché?’

Fox’s respect for Rogers went up. Male cops in some of the outlying offices were not the kind to worry over a little wife-beating, but Rogers was as outraged as he was likely to get. ‘I know. Fuck all you can do about it unless there’s a witness or she makes a complaint.’

‘You used to be a cop?’

‘NAPA in New York.’

He nodded, then his eyes widened. ‘You’re that Tara Meridian?!’

‘One day people will forget. How about those records? Look, I work for Palladium, so I have all the best toys. I’ve got data search and analysis systems available that make the stuff NAPA has look like they’re steam-powered. If you’ve got something you need that I can help with… A little quid pro quo, and a new pair of eyes on the evidence can be useful, right?’

‘Oh, I already decided to cooperate. I think you might be able to get some evidence on Bateson, even if you aren’t looking for it. And I don’t know about your toys, but Sandy has a friend, Trudy Shane.’

‘Crystal mentioned her. I was going to try to talk to her this afternoon.’

‘I talked to her, but I’m a guy and a cop.’

‘She clammed up.’

‘More like evaded. Said she didn’t know where Sandy had gone, and maybe she doesn’t, but my gut says she knows something. You’re neither a guy nor a cop.’

‘I’ll talk to her, let you know if she opens up.’

‘Right. I’ll make arrangements and send you access details for the data you want. You want medical records on Sandy?’

‘Let’s see all three of them, though I’m betting Malcolm’s as healthy as a horse.’

~~~

Trudy Shane was tall, slim, and pretty with long, blonde hair and blue eyes. She looked like she should be a hit with the boys, except that she also looked quiet and her bedroom contained more bookshelves than walls. Shelves with actual printed books on them, which suggested a dedication to reading. Well, good, Fox thought, as she settled onto a small desk chair: not every pretty girl should want the attention of boys, but it went against the grain in a place like this.

Trudy sat on the bed, legs crossed in front of her. Her expression suggested that she did not want to be there, but her mother had told her that she should try to help, so… ‘I spoke to Detective Rogers. I told him I didn’t know where Sandy went.’

‘I know. I wouldn’t necessarily expect you to tell me if you did.’

‘Well… Of course I would. I mean, she’s missing and… and her mother’s worried. So am I. I mean, everyone’s worried. Nicky’s sick…’ She trailed off.

‘Nicky?’

‘My brother, Nicholas.’

‘Ah. He liked Sandy?’

‘Uh…’

‘Trudy, I’m not a cop. No one gets in trouble from what I find out. No one gets to hear about it unless I have a good reason to tell them and… I don’t really have a good reason to tell Mal Bateson about anything.’

Trudy’s eyes widened. ‘No one knows about–’ This time the cut-off was sharp and her cheeks coloured. ‘I mean…’

‘More people know than you think, than Sandy thought. A lot of people don’t want to see, but they know. That kind of thing makes my blood boil, but it’s the way things are. It won’t change unless someone stands up to him. I don’t expect you to, but I will if I can find a reason to do it. What happened with your brother?’

‘He’s… He’s had a thing for Sandy for ages. Finally plucked up the courage to ask her out, and she went with him a couple of times. Not, like, sex, you know? The movies. I’d cover for her, say she was with me. I mean, we’d go places and Mister Bateson was okay with that as long as she was back home by ten.’

‘Ten? My parents were fairly strict at your age and I could stay out until eleven.’

‘Yeah… Mister Bateson’s… very strict. Third date they were five minutes late getting back. We made up a quick excuse about missing a bus, but the next morning Sandy had a black eye she was trying to cover up and she told Nicky she couldn’t see him anymore. She wasn’t allowed out at all for three months, but…’

‘Go on, Trudy. Everything helps.’

‘Well, she said she’d met someone. She never said who he was, or where she met him. Seemed to me it was someone at the market though, because she really looked forward to Wednesdays.’

‘Someone at the market? Right. Did you see her the day she vanished?’

‘No. Saw her the day before. She wasn’t feeling too good. Said she’d eaten something that didn’t agree with her, but she had fresh bruises. She said… She said she couldn’t take it anymore.’

‘Couldn’t take what?’

Trudy shook her head. ‘The beatings? I thought she was going to kill herself, talked to her for two hours. I said, “It’s Wednesday tomorrow. You’re always happy on Wednesdays.” She just kind of nodded. You don’t think she did? Went and hid somewhere and… and did it?’

‘People don’t kill themselves like that as a rule. I think Sandy’s still alive somewhere and I’m going to find her. And what happens after that… Well, we’ll see.’

‘If you bring her back here, he’ll kill her.’

‘That he won’t do, Trudy. I’ll see to that.’

~~~

With the forensics robots collected and returned to Pythia for data collection, Fox changed her slacks for running shorts and her vaguely sensible, if heeled, shoes for nothing, and went down to the workshop to collect her thoughts and get the evidence analysed.

‘We have the data from Detective Rogers,’ Kit informed her as she walked in to where Pythia’s huge server system was waiting, with Kit’s avatar beside it.

‘All right. Pythia, run the analysis on the forensics. Kit, could you upload into one of Pythia’s processors? I’d like you to go through the camera feeds looking for Sandy and what she was up to. Pythia can join you once the analysis is done, assuming you haven’t finished.’

‘I can do that, Fox,’ Kit replied. ‘Is there some reason you want me to upload rather than breaking off a copy?’

‘Yes. I’m going to go through the medical records and then start on Sandy’s computer. I don’t know what’s on that, but if it’s got half of what I think might be there, I’d prefer it if you were not exposed to it without warning. I know that sounds patronising–’

‘I think it sounds sweet and protective, but I will need to face unpleasant things at some point.’

‘I know, and you already have and you coped well. This is just… I don’t want to look at this, Kit, but someone has to and I’m the senior partner here. It falls to me. I’ll tell you what I find and I’ll let you look at it if I think it’s necessary, but this is how it’s going to be.’

Kit gave a nod. ‘Just remember that I am here to talk to if you need it afterwards.’

Fox’s smile was bleak. ‘That I may well do. I’m going to go back in the house. I think lying down might be a good idea for this one.’

~~~

By the middle of the afternoon, Marie was feeling like a human. Not only that, but a human who did not wish for the ground to open up and swallow her. Sam had gone out after lunch for an engagement and Marie had had some proper time to adjust to not having slept with him. With her body a little stiff and feeling sluggish still, she decided that a run would be a remarkably good idea.

It took a while. First was selecting her wardrobe since she needed to fabricate a new running set. She eventually went with one of her favoured ‘serious’ designs. That meant running shorts rather than something tighter, and a good, supportive athletics bra-top, all in neon yellow with pink trim. The bra had ‘OTT’ printed on it, because she felt she had gone over the top in no small fashion that morning so she might as well continue.

While that was working through the fabricator, and Marie gave thanks to Jackson Martins that she could just step through into the utility room to collect the result, Marie selected her inspirational music for the run on LifeBeats and contemplated making a new playlist. She had eighteen running playlists, ‘Running1’ through ‘Running19,’ and she would think about that error later, and a new one was not needed, oh no it wasn’t.

‘You’re delaying, Marie,’ she told herself. ‘Get on with it.’

She picked list fifteen, and discovered that sixteen was missing, which explained that, and moved on to LifeFit. She had five saved runs, but one of those was in Sioux Falls, the first she had ever saved, and she could not bring herself to delete it just yet even if she was never going back. She flicked between one of two Central Park routes and the Battery, and decided on the latter, and then she walked through and collected her fresh kit.

Adding candy-pink running shoes, she stretched a little in her lounge and then started for the door. ‘Belle, if Sam gets back before I do, I’m out running.’

‘Noted, Marie. Sam’s engagement is due to keep him away until early evening. I shall follow your progress on LifeFit.’

‘My guardian angel,’ Marie replied, flashing a grin.

LifeFit, Marie mused as she jogged to the maglev, was a great little application. There had been a few complaints about security when it first launched, especially in the virtual gym feature which let you VR into an exercise area with other, likeminded, solo fitness enthusiasts. Men, and some women, had joined just to watch women pumping weights in clinging outfits. There had been a little scandal about licensed prostitutes of both sexes picking up clients through the service. The privacy settings had been tightened up and the complaints had gone away, though Marie still thought it felt like a sweaty speed dating system half the time and only used it when she was feeling at her most exhibitionist. The running system had been changed so that live tracking was only available to designated friends, and the app made completed times and routes available after you got home.

So, Belle was a registered agent of some sort, Marie was not sure how that worked, but it did, and so she was allowed to follow Marie’s progress as she ran. Marie had added Fox and Sam to the list, though she was fairly sure that neither actually used LifeFit. Actually, Sam kept his profile discreet, but up to date for professional reasons, but Fox badly needed to do something about hers. Some people came to LifeWeb, flirted with it a little, and then dropped it, and that seemed to be what Fox had done. She was still listed as living in Topeka! There was nothing on there about her career, no relationship data aside from incoming links. Marie very rarely bothered using LifeRight, but she had done so recently to delegate her vote to Fox and LifeWeb did have a lot of activity for Fox in that domain, all of it in the last couple of months and determined from external links rather than because Fox had used LifeRight herself. Marie figured that Kit handled that kind of thing for Fox. Fox was a little like a LifeWeb neutron star: you could mostly tell she existed because of the effect she had on bodies around her. Black hole was being a little extreme since there was something there if you looked closely, but you had to know where to look.

Amused by her analogy, Marie got off the train at the Battery Gardens station and jogged down the slideway to street level. She flicked up her LifeFit window, checked her route, indicated she was starting, and set off at a steady pace to get her muscles worked in. One slow lap up around Castle Clinton and back, and then she would pick up the pace and head all the way up to the Esplanade. She had done this run almost every day when she had been staying in Fox’s apartment.

Thought of that brought her embarrassment over Sam back into sharp clarity. To think she had thought that she had cheated on Fox. To think that Sam would have betrayed Fox like that! Had he really said she had a fine body? She shook her head and focused on the beat of her feet and the music piping through her head, and the man who sat on a bench at the side of the path, his eyes following her as she ran, went entirely unnoticed.

Topeka Agri-Zone.

Detective Rogers had added a bonus: Malcolm Bateson had a criminal record and Rogers had dropped the details over for Fox to read. Not that it was anything really major, and it was old. He had been fined over an assault charge when he was nineteen. There were several sealed records noted from before then and a couple of DUIs after. The last of those was five years old. The assault had resulted in a fine instead of prison time because there had been a lack of clarity over exactly who had started the fight. To Fox, it looked like the arresting officers had been quite sure, but the lawyers had sprinkled in enough doubt and the earlier, juvenile, arrests had not been considered. Whatever, Bateson had avoided that kind of trouble thereafter, but then he had married young and got a wife to beat on in private.

Or that was the theory until Fox went through the medical records and found that Bateson’s was not quite as uninteresting as she had thought. He had, over the years, been treated for a broken nose more than once, cracked ribs, a broken arm… All put down to accidents, no doubt, but they could also be explained by fights he had, likely, not come out on top of.

Crystal and Sandy were not lucky people either. Crystal had walked into a few more doors, being treated for a cracked cheekbone twice, a broken arm once. Sandy had had her arm dislocated at the shoulder when she was four, and had suffered a broken wrist when she was eight. At ten, she had ‘fallen down the stairs,’ which was an amazing feat in a single-storey house but no one had checked, and suffered a broken arm, bruised ribs, and concussion. But Fox had to admit that family services were not totally to blame for the misses since the list was not as bad as expected. Bateson had learned to be careful. Soft tissue injuries hurt like Hell and did not need hospital treatment. Maybe the stairs incident had raised a few questions and he had got worried. He had stopped picking fights in public after the assault arrest, so maybe he had started pulling his blows some after he realised he might be found out. He was cleverer than Fox had thought, which was worrying.

By the time Fox had been through those records, the cracking software she had set to work on Sandy’s PC had done its job. The report said that the unit had been voiceprint secured, but that the default admin password had never been changed allowing direct access that way. It was the kind of rookie mistake people made when they did not know much about computers and how to use them, and Fox figured Malcolm kept a careful watch on Sandy’s computer time. Schoolwork only, none of that dirty, perverted internet socialising. Nothing where she might tell someone about him in a place he could not monitor.

With Kit working on Pythia’s server, Fox was reduced to the basic VR interface of her implant, which was tedious. You got used to working with an AI, a proper one, not the braindead baseline OS. Even Fox’s old VA had been able to interpret normal English and do what you wanted instead of what the letter of your sentence said. Kit was an absolute angel at doing the right thing no matter how Fox asked for it. Now she had to give precise commands, or resort to manual input. So it took her a couple of minutes to get her head back around doing things the old way, but soon she was looking through the contents of Sandy’s computer.

There was not as much as she had expected and the reason became clear when she found a note on the machine from Nicky Shane which had clearly been put there by him. He had given her his old portable when he had got an upgrade. The date suggested that Sandy had had it for thirteen months. With no VR implant or access to a wearable of any kind, Sandy had had to use the unit’s voice controls for more or less everything. Oh, you could type on the little touchscreen, but you didn’t unless you wanted to suffer serious RSI. There was a diary of sorts on there, but it was all audio recordings. Lying back on the bed in the room her mother had assigned her, the same room she had had as a child, Fox opened the first of the files.

‘Hi, I’m Sandy Bateson and this is my first ever personal computer which Nicky has kindly given me. You didn’t leave anything on here that’s private did you?’ Sandy had a light, easy voice and there was no hint of tension in it. She sounded happy, but then it seemed like she was recording the entry after just having received the unit.

‘I reset the whole thing, cleaned the memory.’ A boy’s voice: Fox assumed that was Nicky. He sounded happy too.

‘Nicky’s good with computers.’ And that was Trudy. The three of them together for Sandy’s first foray into personal computers.

‘Oh,’ Nicky added, ‘and I shut down all the sound output and the wireless links, like you asked. It won’t make a sound unless you want it to.’

‘Thanks,’ Sandy went on. ‘Okay, well, this is just to say “hi, computer,” and I’m going to be using you to keep a diary. I’ve never had a diary before so I’ve no idea what I’ll put in here. Happy things. I’ll put all my happy things in here so I can keep them forever.’

That lasted all the way to the second file. ‘Dear Diary… Shit.’ The voice was low and there was a slight sibilance which suggested the recording was being done with Sandy’s lips more or less on the microphone. ‘He came home pissed and wanted to know why I wasn’t in bed. It was nine thirty. So now I’m going to have to stay in or cover up the shiner I’ll have by morning. Shit.’

Fox lay on her bed, surrounded by things which she had left behind when she had gone off to join the Army, and imagined Sandy lying in her own bed. The girl’s bedroom was a girl’s bedroom, at first glance. There had been dolls and a couple of books on shelves. A wardrobe of favoured clothes she preferred to have handy and not recycle. There was a vanity unit, and there the image broke down because there was a hairbrush, but no cosmetics, none at all. A seventeen-year-old girl without even a lipstick pen or some eye shadow? Trudy, the dedicated reader, had had some basic make-up in her room. Fox had had a kit her mother had bought her for Christmas which she had barely ever used, but it had been quite complete and she had even asked her mother to run her through the delicacies of kohl pencils and lip liners. Sandy had nothing.

So there was Sandy, lying in her bed… She would sleep in something. Fox had slept naked in summer from the age of fourteen when she had declared to her mildly shocked parents that it was ‘far too hot’ for her favoured, blue nightdress. When he had got his mouth closed, Jonathan had told her not to run around the house naked and that had been that. Sandy would be wearing something. Panties and a T-shirt. Body armour which would not be enough. She lay there, huddled up under her girly, flowery duvet with the light of the screen obscured and her mouth pressed to the microphone, recording her diary entry and fearing her father might find her. The rip under the bed, Fox realised, was positioned so that someone lying on it could reach under without setting foot on the floor to get to the computer.

That was borne out by the sporadic nature of the entries. Some weeks there were none, some two or three, never more than that. Fox made it through a couple of months, a litany of torment, mental and physical, before she found what she had dreaded.

‘Dear… Shit, it hurts. Dear Diary, sometimes I think you’re the only friend I’ve got. Trudy’s great. And Nicky… But I can tell you anything and I can’t… can’t tell them. He went out with Crystal. Some stupid party. I know he hates them. They came back and I could hear them arguing. Him arguing. Mom knows better than to fight back, but he hit her anyway. I really hoped he’d just go to bed, but he…’ There was a muffled groan. ‘I feel sick. I don’t know how I can keep letting him… He came in and… I try to get wet for him, like he told me, but all I can smell is him and booze and it hurts so much…’ The recording continued, but there were just muffled sounds for maybe thirty seconds. Crying, Fox decided. She had learned how to keep her crying silent, probably at a young age. ‘I wish I was dead.’

Fox got off the bed and paced across her room. She had never been one for physical books and she had taken the personal things she felt were important when she walked away from this place. What was left was her childhood. A teddy bear named Woodrow Patch, because her father had given him an eyepatch when one eye had dropped out. He had been just Woodrow before that. A doll in a ridiculous, flouncy dress, with huge, lacy underskirts, which Fox had never named and had thought was childish even when her mother had given it to her for Christmas at the age of eight. There was still a poster on the wall of a band Fox had liked in her late teens when she had been into deathdub.

By the time Fox was Sandy’s age, the room had had a sound system and a computer. A VR visor would have been sitting on the computer, ready for use, and, when she had been in the room, her wearable unit would be sitting on the desk beside it. There had been more posters, a pile of memory sticks, lots of clothes. You could not see the childish stuff for all the teenage clutter. Sandy’s room belonged to a ten-year-old. And in it, her father had been raping her.

Having broken the self-imposed taboo on talking about it, Sandy was more forthcoming about her father’s nocturnal activities. She knew that her mother knew it was happening. She always called her mother Crystal, never ‘my mother’ or ‘Mom.’ She did not blame Crystal for what her father did and, in one candid moment, admitted that she could not blame her for not stopping him. Crystal was as afraid of Malcolm as Sandy was, maybe more so. Sandy knew what that fear was like, described the terror that crawled into her gut whenever she heard footsteps outside her room, the heavy, icy-cold weight that sank in and made her mouth dry and tears spring into her eyes.

Then there was a change. The recording came from a Wednesday in early April. ‘Dear Diary, I think I met someone today. I know it’s stupid, after what happened with Nicky, but this guy… He’s different. I won’t say much just in case he finds this. I’m going to be so careful about this one. And there’s no chance of being late home, because he’s not here at night.’

That went on through April, and there was no mention of what her father was doing to her. It was as though, finally, Sandy had something nice to record and it was pushing away her daily horror. By May, things were getting more serious. ‘I think I’m in love,’ Sandy recorded and the sound of her voice, even at a whisper, made Fox’s heart leap for her.

And then things went bad again. ‘Dear Diary, I got another shiner from him today. He told me there was someone he wanted me to meet. A man. He said… He said this man was very important and could help the family, and that I had to meet this guy and… be a good girl for him. I didn’t want to. At least after he punched me in the eye he had to call it off. I heard him talking to someone, saying I was bleeding and it would have to wait. I can’t wait anymore.’

The next entry was on the following Wednesday. ‘It’s set. Next week.’ That was it, nothing more. Fox checked the date. The Wednesday after the recording would be the twenty-third of June. That was the day she had been called out to Lauren Coolidge’s body, and the day Sandy Bateson had vanished.

There was one more entry, on the twenty-second. Fox started the playback and listened to Sandy’s happy, expectant voice. ‘Dear Diary, tomorrow I’m going. Drew’s going to help me and I’m going to be gone from this hellhole forever. I’m a little sorry for Crystal because she’s going to catch Hell for it, but…’ There was a pause, not even breathing, and then, ‘Shit! Not now…’

There were noises which Fox was not sure about until she heard another voice. ‘Is my good girl asleep?’ Sandy had hidden the PC quickly, too quickly to turn it off. Malcolm’s voice was audible, but muffled. ‘I know she’s not.’

‘Please, D-daddy, not… not tonight.’

‘Now then, Sandy, be a good girl for your daddy…’

Fox made herself listen to it all. Every gut-wrenching, heart-tearing second of it. Her mind filled in the images as she heard the sounds. Tearing fabric as he ripped her panties off her, the creak of the bed springs and the wail of pain and fear quickly bitten off, the grunting and the final longer grunt of release, the creak as he got off the bed.

‘Good girl. Friday night you’re going to be a good girl for Druss.’ Fox felt her face go cold as the blood drained out of it, but she kept listening. There was nothing audible for maybe another minute. Sandy was crying her silent tears until she could pull herself together, retrieve the PC, and turn it off.

~~~

There had been a need to wash her face. Cold water. It had washed the sensation back into her cheeks, and then she had started downstairs to the workshop. Meeting her father at the bottom of the steps had been something she really did not want.

‘You okay, Fox? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘I’m… I just read something that bothered me. Uh, to do with another case.’

‘The killer in New York?’

Fox smiled. ‘I need to go check on Pythia.’ Starting past him, she stopped and put a hand on his arm. ‘Dad… When I left, I was kind of pissed off and some things were said.’

‘I’m aware. We said some things too, as I recall.’

‘Yeah. I’m not saying I didn’t mean them, and I’m not saying I was wrong, but I’ve never been disappointed that you were my father. I’m glad you’re you.’

‘I feel like I missed part of this conversation.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Dad.’ Turning, she headed off to the garage at a brisk pace.

‘All right, ladies,’ Fox said as soon as she was back in the air conditioning, ‘what do we have? Kit?’

Kit appeared in her longer skirt and glasses ensemble. She looked pleased and Fox noted her downloading herself back to the processor in Fox’s arm. ‘I have found Sandy.’

‘Show me.’ Fox closed her eyes and found herself standing in a reconstruction of the market. A time counter hovered, constantly at the right viewing angle, and said the time was eleven forty-five.

‘Pythia built this from the camera views at the time. Sandy walks in from behind you.’

Turning, Fox spotted the girl as she walked into the park. Sandy was pretty, younger than her years and yet older. Her blue eyes were dull, but her hair was bright gold and fell around her shoulders like a cloud. She was wearing jeans and a light, thin-strapped top, which Fox figured her father would not approve of but then her father would be out at work at this time. Her figure was good, but thin. She would fill out with a little more age, Fox guessed.

They followed her as she walked between the stalls. Her eyes flicked about constantly. She was nervous, constantly checking to see whether anyone was following her, but the two people who were actually watching were doing it almost a week later. Fifteen minutes of checking and she turned, making a beeline for a stall on the northern side.

As far as Fox could tell, all of the stalls there were staffed by people from out of town, several of them out of the south. Sandy checked about once again and then slipped around behind the stalls, and that was when a boy turned and reached out for her hands. The video froze.

‘Hello, Drew,’ Fox said.

‘You know who he is?’ Kit asked.

‘Only the first name. It’s in her diary. You’ve run facial recognition?’

‘Pythia is doing that now. I got a much better image of him from when they were setting up.’ She reached out and pulled a still frame out of the air for Fox to look at. Drew was a handsome young man, maybe twenty, with a solidly muscled body derived from hard work. Dark hair and eyes, rugged features, strong jawline, and high cheekbones. He wore a heavy, leather jacket and jeans faded by age, and boots that looked like Army issue from the last generation of combat uniform.

‘Run it on.’

The couple talked for a few minutes, one of the others on the stall joining in briefly, and then they parted, Sandy moving off at a brisk pace.

‘They do not have a long conversation,’ Kit said, ‘and she does not appear again.’

‘Finalising arrangements. Rogers and Bateson were right. Sandy ran away, but she ran away with Drew, probably into the Southern Protectorate. Get images of all the people on that stall. We’ll go to the market tomorrow and see if we can talk to any of them.’ She backed out of the simulation and opened her eyes. ‘Pythia, forensics, please.’

‘There was not a lot to find,’ Pythia replied, ‘but there was something. There was DNA and hair from three individuals, one male, two female, almost certainly the Batesons. I also found hair from three different sources, and fingerprints from three individuals.’

‘To be expected. It’s a family house.’

‘Yes. The bed sheets were clean, almost certainly replaced since Sandy Bateson slept in the bed. The mattress, however, yielded blood from one of the female DNA sources. Not large amounts, but some. There were also seminal and vaginal fluids. The DNA was degraded, but there was a sixty-eight per cent probability of a match to the male DNA source.’

‘Mister Bateson was sleeping with his daughter,’ Kit said.

‘Not sleeping,’ Fox replied. ‘He never stayed that long. The print outside the window, Pythia?’

‘Corresponds to an Army standard issue combat boot last used in twenty fifty-two. It is commonly available in surplus stores.’

‘Drew was wearing a pair. So he comes to her window, lets her know he’s there. Maybe she goes out that way, or she sneaks out through the door. I bet Malcolm’s a sound sleeper. At least one of the other people on the stall is in on this, so they’ve waited after the market closed. They have transport not far away. Not too close, don’t want to be seen, but not too far. She goes fast and light. She even forgets her diary, but Daddy raped her the night before and she’s desperate to get out.’

‘You know he did?’ Kit asked.

‘I know. She accidentally recorded him doing it.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yes. Oh. Pythia, I want you to extract all the audio files from Sandy’s PC. Clean up the audio and run voiceprint analysis on the voices. Kit… If you want to listen to the files, I won’t stop you, but if you do, be prepared. It’s not a pleasant listen, especially the last entry. Also, I want everything you can find about Cory Druss and any relationship he might have with Malcolm Bateson.’

‘Cory Druss, the politician?’

‘Yeah, him. Bateson had plans to whore his daughter out to the lordly Mister Druss. Bart said he liked young women. I wonder if he knew how young?’

‘On that subject,’ Pythia said. ‘The other task you assigned to me? Your mother went out today, at ten eighteen. She went to a motel in the northern part of the city where she was met by Mister Druss at eleven. My drone frame was able to pick up audio of their meeting. There was very little conversation, however. I am not sure it is worth listening to.’

Fox’s fists clenched. ‘Thank you, Pythia.’

‘Your mother is sleeping with Mister Druss,’ Kit said, ‘who appears to have a taste for very much younger women.’

‘Let’s just concentrate on Sandy for now. I’ll deal with Andrea later. Kit, I need an appointment to see Detective Rogers, tomorrow afternoon.’

‘Of course, Fox,’ Kit said, her voice subdued.

30th June.

The market was not quite up to speed when Fox walked in, which was fine by her. She had picked out an outfit which, if her memory of the gangs out of the dustbowl was right, would make her look like one of the girls who gravitated in that direction. They had a style which Fox thought was a little crazy given their choice of living area, but she could make it work. On mentioning this to Kit, she was told that Fox could make anything aside from a fatsuit work.

Whatever the truth of that statement, Fox had decked herself out in a pair of stupidly short, denim shorts with a pair of belts looped around her hips, a pale blue bikini bra with string straps which was about a size too small, high-top boots, and black, mesh thigh-highs. The locals looked at her as though she was from out of town, which of course she was but previously no one had batted an eyelid.

She browsed, getting the stink eye from a couple of stall owners as she gravitated to the top end where the out-of-towners were located. With the stalls up, it was more obvious that that top rank had a wider gap between it and the other stalls. Here Fox received fewer disapproving looks and more distinctly approving ones. Finding the stall was easy, and not finding Drew there was unsurprising.

‘His name,’ Kit said, ‘is Drew Maple. Pythia tracked him down. He was born in the Tulsa projects, had the biomods done when he got to eighteen. Standard dry environment stuff which he seems to have saved for himself. And after that he vanished. That was about fifty months ago and he has not been seen since.’

‘And that continues.’

‘If I had skipped town with my girlfriend, I might not show up here either.’

‘You have a girlfriend? Does Vali know?’

‘Oh, that’s funny.’

Fox forced herself not to laugh. ‘What bothers me is that no one on that stand was here last week. Okay.’ She paused, considering, and then walked over to the stand. ‘Hey,’ she said aloud.

She got smiles from the three men staffing their stand of leather goods. ‘Morning.’ The speaker was the eldest, a man of maybe fifty. He was dressed in a leather waistcoat, faded blue jeans, and Army boots. He had a beard that could easily have held a flock of starlings.

‘Ah, well, I was hoping to see Drew here. Passed by a couple of weeks ago and bought these belts and I wanted to thank him. Good-quality work.’

‘Thank you. We make all our own products ourselves.’

‘It shows.’

‘Drew’s not around this week, but I’ll be sure to tell him you dropped by…’

‘Call me Fox, everyone does. Thanks. I hope he’s not sick or anything.’

‘No, but we like to mix things up now and again.’

Fox smiled. ‘Great. Maybe I’ll see you around.’ She turned and strutted away.

‘Sure hope so.’

Fox let herself grin and put a little more swing in her hips for his benefit. ‘Kit, call Chicago and get them to dispatch a long-range, airborne surveillance frame. I want it to follow the people on that stall.’

‘I’ll send the request immediately. You believe Drew has taken Sandy to wherever they have encamped.’

‘He’s got a problem. He’s had the mods to make life easier down there, but she hasn’t. That means she uses more water than he does and they’ll need to be careful about dust or she’ll be coughing her lungs up inside of a week. He’ll need help and their camp is the best bet.’

‘Might I remind you that you don’t have all those mods yourself?’

‘No, the Army assumed that we’d always be in combat gear so lung filters weren’t an issue, but filter masks aren’t hard to get hold of. I need to wrap things up here before I can go after Sandy, though. That’s where Detective Rogers comes in.’

New York Metro.

Kit, the copy still residing on her home server, peered closely at the picture she had found on LifeWeb. According to LifeWeb’s photo-tagging system, it showed Lauren Coolidge running and it was dated on the nineteenth of June. Coolidge had gone missing on that date and her LifeFit logs indicated that she had been running on the East Side. Kit was moderately sure that that area did not have a lot of huge, grassy areas.

A few minutes of matching pictures from the only large, grassy area Kit was aware of suggested that the backdrop of the photograph was in Central Park, which posed something of an issue. Verification was in order and she spent some time, almost a second, running tests on the picture to ensure that it was, indeed, what it appeared to be. Satisfied, she dispatched a message to her counterpart in Topeka, and then set to work with renewed vigour.

She had found something very interesting, but it might just be a glitch. Kit needed more.

Topeka Agri-Zone.

Rogers looked white, with a hint of green, when he had finished listening to the recordings on Sandy’s PC.

‘I know how he feels,’ Kit commented. ‘I admit that, even without internal organs, I felt nauseous. My copy in New York has uncovered an anomaly regarding Lauren Coolidge’s murder. She’s looking for more information.’

‘Okay, keep me informed.’ Aloud, Fox said, ‘You okay?’

‘No,’ Rogers said. ‘You listened to that without the warning and you didn’t throw up?’

‘I… It was close. Do you think there’s enough there to do something about Bateson?’

He frowned. ‘I can run it past the local prosecutor. My opinion is that he needs to be locked up until the oceans boil, but it’s not for me to decide.’

Fox nodded. ‘I know how it is.’

‘Druss is a bigger problem. This might get him in for questioning and it’s maybe probable cause to go looking, but the guy didn’t touch Sandy Bateson and he’s got political juice enough to slide.’

‘Leave Druss to me.’

Rogers’ eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not going to do anything…’

‘Illegal? No. Don’t worry about it.’

‘And you have a lead on Sandy?’

‘Not yet, but I will have. If you can get clearance to pick up Bateson tonight, I’d like to accompany you.’

‘I’ll let you know.’

~~~

‘Mom, could I have a word?’

Andrea looked around at her daughter and smiled. ‘Of course, Tara, what about?’

‘Not here. I need you to come out to the workshop with me. There’s something I need to show you.’ Without waiting, Fox headed for the kitchen door, but her mother followed, frowning.

‘What’s this about, Tara?’

‘I found some evidence which I’d like your opinion on.’

‘Wouldn’t it be better to get your father–’

‘Dad’s fixing that irrigation pump and I don’t want to disturb him. Besides, I think you’ll be more informed on this one.’

‘You’re being obtuse, Tara.’ There was a slightly disapproving tone in Andrea’s voice.

‘Sometimes it’s better if you get an impression of something without any preconceptions. I want your initial reaction to this, what you think and feel before your brain has had time to process it properly.’

‘Did they teach you that in detective school, or wherever you learn these things?’

‘Army interrogation course, actually, but it’s the same principle however it’s applied. It’s a matter of judging the data you get based on how your subject is presented with it, and determining how best to present certain kinds of information.’

‘I thought the Army’s idea of interrogation involved thumbscrews and electrodes.’ Andrea’s tone suggested that she was only half-joking.

‘They stopped teaching us proper use of thumbscrews in the forties,’ Fox replied and pushed into the workshop. ‘Pythia, play audio file SAN zero three.’

Sandy’s voice cut in from the speakers on the server. ‘Dear… Shit, it hurts. Dear Diary, sometimes I think you’re the only friend I’ve got. Trudy’s great. And Nicky…’

‘What is this, Fox?’ Andrea asked.

‘Just listen.’

It was not the entirety of Sandy’s diary. Fox had cut together a sequence lasting around twelve minutes from the long list of files. After about a minute, Andrea was trembling and Fox stepped around behind her, ready. ‘Just keep listening, Mom.’

Andrea broke after six minutes, which was more than Fox had expected, but she was still ready, gripping her mother’s arms and holding her there. ‘Keep listening. It’s important.’

‘I’ve heard enough, Tara. Please.’

‘You haven’t. Listen.’

The last two minutes were the longest. Fox was a little surprised to find that, even on a second listen, the recording of Sandy Bateson being forced into sex with her father had her almost begging for it to be over soon.

‘Good girl. Friday night you’re going to be a good girl for Druss.’ Andrea went very still at the sound of Malcolm Bateson’s voice. Fox released her and moved slowly around to look at her mother’s face, streaked with tears, and white as a sheet under the summer tan.

‘That’s the reaction I was hoping to see,’ Fox said. Andrea’s mouth opened and nothing came out. ‘I looked pretty much the same after I heard it, but I’m not fucking Cory Druss.’

Andrea opened her mouth again, but this time her eyes widened and a fraction of a second later, she darted into a corner, bent double, and threw lunch up onto the concrete floor. Fox watched her until the vomiting became retching, pity warring with disgust in a mired-down, trench battle which neither side was making much progress with.

‘I’m going to join Detective Rogers in about forty minutes and we’re going to take Malcolm Bateson in,’ Fox said to her mother’s back. ‘NAPA believe there’s enough evidence to put him away. Druss is another matter. Connected, there’s limited evidence. Rogers will see what he can get from Bateson, but Druss is probably going to walk. You know, if his tastes in women run to teenagers, you have to wonder what he sees in you. Or is that why you’ve been having all the treatments and dressing like a New York street hooker?’

Andrea spat on the floor, still leaning over the puddle of stomach contents she had made. ‘How did you know about Cory?’

‘You’re not exactly trying to hide it, Andrea. People noticed him visiting every Tuesday and Thursday. Specifically when Dad’s out of the house.’

‘But–’

‘He didn’t come yesterday? No, you went to a motel. Bad move. Not only do they have lousy soundproofing, but the walls are thin enough that infrared cameras can see warm bodies through them. I got to watch my… You know, I’m just not going to call you that at the moment. I got to watch you fucking that degenerate in false colour and listen to all the dumbass lines he fed you. It hasn’t occurred, just once, that the only reason he’s doing it is your delegated votes?’

Andrea managed to straighten up and turn around. There was still no colour in her face, but she was starting to rally, starting to rationalise. ‘I don’t believe–’

‘His preference for a shaved pussy come up? I bet you’re smooth as a baby down there. He’s changed up on the wives twice, always going for a younger model. Do you really think he wants a fifty-year-old woman? Even one that looks like you?’

‘H-he said that my exp-perience was a ch-change… Oh shit.’ Andrea’s knees collapsed under her and she dropped to the ground on all fours. Pity managed a cannon barrage which decimated disgust’s lines in a surprise counter-offensive and Fox moved forward, picking her mother off the ground and guiding her to a chair, sitting her down, and pushing her head down between her knees.

‘Just breathe, Mom. Druss played you. I’d imagine he’s doing the same with a bunch of people. I bet that lovely young wife of his has done her bit for the cause. She’s desperate to keep her claws in him. She’s got a wide social net.’

‘There have been a couple of rumours,’ Andrea said, her voice a whisper. ‘Cory…’ She swallowed. ‘Druss used that to get me into… Not that it took much effort. Your father and I were going through a bad patch. I wanted to get deeper into politics, but he wanted to concentrate on his fields. We argued. We weren’t… a couple for some time.’ She looked up. ‘I’m not excusing it, just explaining. Druss’s aims seemed to match mine.’

‘Seemed to, yeah. I think you actually believe your watchmen are a good idea. He wants a police force that he owns. I’m sure it’s not just so he can fuck little girls with impunity, but it has to be a side benefit.’ Fox watch her mother flinch on the word ‘fuck.’ So far, so good. ‘What you do with this is up to you, but there are a couple of provisos to that. If Bateson knows we’re coming and skips, I’ll hand you over to Rogers for obstruction of justice and hope he throws the key away.’

‘I wouldn’t!’

‘I’m not really sure what you’d do. I never thought you’d cheat on Dad with a child molester. When I get back with Sandy, I’m going to tell Dad about your affair. I think it’d be better coming from you, but he’s going to hear it.’

Angela lowered her face again, but she nodded. ‘I’ll deal with it. My mess, like that one in the corner. I’ll deal with them both.’

~~~

Malcolm Bateson’s eyes flicked from Rogers, to Fox, to the NAPA transport vehicle sitting at the end of his garden path. ‘What’s this about, Rogers?’

‘Perhaps we should discuss that inside, Mister Bateson,’ the detective replied. Fox admired his restraint: she would have pushed the door in and flattened the fucker.

Bateson stepped aside. ‘You found something concerning my daughter?’

‘Miss Meridian has uncovered a fair amount of evidence to suggest that she did run away,’ Rogers replied when the door was closed behind them.

‘You were supposed to be looking for the ones who took her.’

‘The thing about evidence,’ Fox said, ‘is that it tells you what it does, not what you want it to.’

‘In this case,’ Rogers went on, turning and walking through to the lounge, ‘it told us that she ran, and why. Good evening, Mrs Bateson.’

Crystal was sitting down, on the sofa, back straight, knees together, and nervous as Hell. Fox could see signs of further make-up to cover a black eye. ‘Good evening, Detective, Miss Meridian.’ Malcolm entered the room and Crystal’s eyes clouded with fear.

‘What do you mean?’ Malcolm asked. He stopped, folded his arms, in front of the door. ‘I know why she left. She was taken–’

‘No,’ Fox said. ‘Sandy ran. It happens that she ran south, not north, but she ran. Ran away from her abusive father, a man who beats her regularly, beats her mother. And when he gets a little too much alcohol in him–’

‘You’ve no proof of any–’

‘When he gets too drunk,’ Fox shouted over him, ‘he goes to her bed and forces her to have sex. And you know what? That’s almost a small matter compared to the fact that you were going to whore your daughter out for a position in the Watch.’

‘Why you…’

Fox watched as he unfolded his arms, right leg stepping back as he prepared himself for the punch. If he had sent her an email the week before explaining what would happen, he could not have telegraphed the move more thoroughly. She pushed the blow aside, caught his arm, folded it easily, twisted…

‘Let go of me!’ Bateson roared, struggling to break free. He had the body mass, he was heavier than Fox, but he was nowhere near as skilled and was physically weaker.

‘Shut the fuck up,’ Fox told him, and she pushed his arm up his back. Bateson let out a shriek of pain.

‘Shit! I think you broke my arm!’

‘Torn ligaments at worst. Shut up.’

‘You can’t prove–’

‘We can,’ Rogers snapped. ‘Your daughter had a diary, Bateson. An audio diary and you were stupid enough to come in on her while she was recording. It caught all of it you sick piece of dog shit. Add in the semen traces Miss Meridian found on the mattress and we have you.’ He pulled restraints from his pocket and stepped around to take Malcolm off Fox. ‘We have you.’

‘Crystal?’ Fox said when Rogers had locked the cuffs on Malcolm. ‘We need you to help now. Help yourself and your daughter. You changed her sheets. You knew what your husband was doing. From what Sandy said, and what I can see, he hits you just as much as her. You need to make a complaint, tell us everything you know. Otherwise you’re an accessory.’

‘You keep silent!’ Malcolm roared, followed by a cry of pain as Rogers yanked him back toward the door.

‘There’s someone here from victim support, Crystal,’ Fox went on. ‘They can help you.’

‘I… couldn’t let him give her to Druss,’ Crystal said, her voice dazed, slightly panicked. ‘I knew about the boy. I heard them talking at the market. I couldn’t let him give her to Druss so…’

‘You just went up a little in my estimations, Crystal, but she can’t stay down there.’

‘You’re going to bring her back? You know where she is?’

‘Not yet, but I will soon enough.’ Fox looked at Rogers. ‘Let’s get this sack of puss into a cell.’

‘Don’t have to tell me twice.’

Tulsa Area, Southern Protectorate, 1st July.

Tulsa was not the worst place to live in the protectorates. It was a fair way north and suffered a little less from the tornados which plagued various areas further south. It was not a stranger to extreme weather, however, and the architecture had adapted to that, and the general northward exodus. The result was a square city area built up of square apartment blocks with fairly narrow alleyways between them. According to Kit’s research, the aerodynamics had been designed to disrupt circular airflow and handle floods. Fox was not entirely sure about that, but she was not staying.

With Pythia’s vertol in a secure hangar MarTech kept in the city, Fox took her Q-bug and set out to the north dressed in her duster-girl outfit, but now with her pistol clasped to her belts behind her back.

‘The surveillance frame is still circling the camp,’ Kit said.

‘No chance of it being spotted?’

‘Unlikely. It’s one of MarTech Defence Technologies’ latest stealth models. Full active camouflage, and it has the radar cross-section of a sparrow. It’s using passive sensors only so there’s nothing to detect, even if they had the equipment to do so. It has not, however, been able to identify Sandy among the inhabitants.’

‘What about Drew?’

‘He has been spotted. He appears to have a cabin of some sort on the north-western side of the encampment. They have made the area a relatively fixed camp with buildings they’ve constructed themselves. The frame has spotted what appears to be the entrance to a bunker at its centre, presumably a refuge from tornados. The region is not especially prone to flooding. It’s on the shores of the Oologah Lake.’

‘Good water source. That’ll be important for Sandy.’

‘The floods which happen here do not provide sufficient water for the inhabitants?’

Fox smiled. ‘The city was designed to handle it long before the climate changes hit hard. Tulsa had extensive flood defences as far back as the early century. When things became more… random, they started storing flood water to even out the supply. Without that, the flood water drains too quickly to be viable all year round. Did you ask me that to make me feel like I was contributing to the conversation, or did you actually not know?’

‘I… wasn’t aware of the historic information. I did not dig that deep.’

‘Huh. ETA?’

‘You have that information on your in-vision display from the vehicle’s navigation system.’

‘I do, don’t I?’

There were roads partway there, but the camp had been built on a promontory with not even a track to its name. Luckily, the Q-bug was designed for off-roading, one of the reasons she had selected it for transport. As they got closer, it became obvious that all the cabins had been built up on stilts to provide some defence against flooding. Something else caught Fox’s attention as well.

‘They have a wireless data link,’ Kit said.

‘Yes, I can see the antenna. Central cabin. The largest. Probably a communal hub. It’s right beside the bunker.’

‘That makes sense. Their local network has only basic security. We have access.’

‘Okay. See what you can see. Oh, and run scans on everyone we can see. I want to know if anyone here has an online presence.’

Fox drove into the camp, eyes scanning the inhabitants. She was coming in on the north side and her gaze swept out to the cabin Drew had been sighted outside. There was no sign of anyone there. The people she did see followed the same pattern as the people she had seen on the stall, or herself. All of them, she guessed, had been altered to survive better in the conditions of the protectorate. All of them looked her over but did not seem too worried by the girl in the skimpy outfit, even if she was carrying a pistol; the truth was that everyone she saw was armed with something, even if it was only a knife.

‘This is where your training trumps my research capabilities,’ Kit said. ‘You know how to act around these people and I don’t.’

‘Uh-huh. The Army’s useful for something aside from shooting people.’

‘I’m more concerned about you getting shot at this point.’

Fox smiled. ‘Not going to happen, Kit.’ Then she spotted the man standing near the central hut with the thick beard. There was a large pistol strapped to his thigh. ‘Well, it might take a bit of talking.’

‘You get around,’ the beard said. ‘Fox, wasn’t it?’

‘I didn’t get your name.’

‘Cable. Baxter Cable. What brings you here, Fox? Still looking for Drew? Or did you want a new belt?’

Fox smiled, taking in the man, the surroundings. His right arm was hanging, but there was slight tension in it, ready to move for the pistol. Off to the right was a woman in a leather bra and short skirt, but the shotgun in her hands was of more interest. On the left, thinking he was out of sight, but in clear view of the wide view from the Q-bug, was a man already lifting a heavy, automatic pistol free of its holster.

‘Cable is ex-military,’ Kit said. ‘Dropped off the grid twenty years ago. He was special forces. I’ve also located an online image in LifeWeb. It was posted three days ago by a woman named Peri Anne Ross and it shows her with Drew and Sandy.’

‘Thanks, Kit. That’ll work.’ Aloud she said, ‘You know, if the guy in the tie-dye shirt is going to shoot me, you could at least offer me a drink first.’

‘That’s going to work?’ Kit asked.

‘The dustbowl gangs have a big thing about hospitality. They consider themselves modern Vikings. The culture leaked into their more civilised brethren.’

Cable was nodding. ‘That’s fair. Come on inside.’

The cabin was one, large, open room and some back offices. Fox figured that the offices contained the communications gear, probably some form of computer. The room had chairs, all sorts of random ones from the looks of them. Cable waved her to sit. ‘Whiskey?’

‘That’s good. I’m not here to cause anyone any harm, Mister Cable.’

‘Then why are you here?’

‘I’m looking for someone who’s in some trouble.’

‘Drew’s not in any trouble, and you’re not a cop. What? Army?’

‘Ex. Ex-Army, ex-UNTPP, ex-NAPA. I work for Palladium Security Solutions now.’

‘Heard of them. That’s the bunch Jackson Martins put together.’

Fox smiled at him as she took her glass. ‘I’m his chief investigating officer. I’ll have some staff in about nineteen days.’ The whiskey was harsh, not exactly good stuff, but she swallowed it without coughing.

‘So, what is it you want with Drew?’

‘Nothing. But he came back last week with his girlfriend from Topeka. Sandy Bateson.’

‘I don’t know anything–’

‘And three days ago, Peri Anne Ross posted a picture on LifeWeb which has her, Drew, and Sandy in it. Yesterday I was there when Sandy’s father was arrested for domestic assault and the rape of a minor. The charges will stick, and they’ll likely cause a lot of embarrassment for a local vote broker by the name of Cory Druss. He seems like the kind of man to hold a grudge, and he’s got the money to pay for someone to come down here and make sure Sandy’s not around to testify.’

Cable’s head sagged forward. ‘Huh. Peri and her LifeWeb. I told that girl it’s better to stay off the net, but she’s young, into that kind of thing.’

‘Sandy’s not set up for living here. She’ll be suffering soon enough and she’s a drain on your water supply. She’s seventeen, Mister Cable. No one legal is going to do the mods for her and you know what the illegal sources are like. Let me talk to her.’

There was silence. Then, ‘How’s the whiskey?’

‘You mean this paint stripper you bottle?’

His laugh was rasping. ‘It’s an acquired taste. Not sure I’ve ever really acquired it. Okay, you talk to them, see where that goes.’

‘Fox,’ Kit broke in, ‘I have a signal through from the Tulsa station. There is a storm front swinging in from the south. Forty-eight per cent probability of tornados this evening, seventy per cent chance of lightning.’

‘Get a signal to the drone. Tell it to return to base.’ Fox looked across at Cable. ‘Looks like I may have to overstay my welcome. There’s a storm front coming in.’

Frowning, Cable looked at the woman with him. ‘Patsy?’

‘I’ll check it,’ Patsy replied and headed for the back.

‘We’ll get your bug stowed away. We can put you up for the night, whatever Drew and Sandy say. Best if you stay here. We’ll bring them over and you can have your talk.’

‘Fine,’ Fox said, putting down her glass. ‘Where do I put my ride? It’s new and I don’t want to lose it just yet.’

~~~

Sandy Bateson looked incredibly nervous. Fox could understand that. Here was this woman turning up, knowing who she was and, apparently, why she was there. Sandy had never seen Fox before and what she saw was a woman dressed like a duster-girl, but sounding like a cop. And Fox knew in far too much detail the life Sandy had run from.

Drew was being protective, holding Sandy’s hand, making sure he was near her at all times. When Sandy sat, Drew stood beside her chair. Fox had never believed in love at first sight, but she was apparently looking at ‘love from a few Wednesdays spent together.’ Maybe that was different.

‘Sandy, Drew, I’m Tara Meridian. Everyone calls me Fox.’

‘What do you want?’ Drew asked. His voice held a lot of hostility. Fox could understand that too.

‘Drew,’ Sandy said, her voice hesitant, but trying to sound reasonable, ‘take it easy. You’re from Topeka, Miss Meridian?’

‘Fox, and I’m from New York. Topeka originally. I grew up there.’ She glanced at Cable. ‘My parents really didn’t like me running off to join the Army.’

Cable gave a grunt of a laugh. ‘My old man couldn’t wait to see me go.’

‘I know Mrs Meridian,’ Sandy said. ‘I’ve seen her with Mister D-Druss.’

‘Yes, you may have. She spent several minutes throwing her lunch up on the workshop floor yesterday because she “knows” Cory Druss. I found your PC, Sandy, the one Nicky gave to you. Did you ever listen back to the last thing you recorded on it?’

‘I don’t…’ Sandy’s eyes widened.

‘Yeah. I’m sorry. I had to listen to it. I’m really sorry.’ Sandy was blushing, horribly embarrassed. Fox’s heart felt like someone was squeezing it. ‘You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, Sandy, nothing. Your… Malcolm Bateson is a monster, and now he’s a monster with a busted arm, in a cage.’

‘You broke his arm?’ Cable asked.

‘Torn ligaments. He won’t be using it to hit anyone any time soon.’

‘I’d’ve–’

‘I had a cop with me. Then again, I think Detective Rogers wanted to do worse.’

‘I wanted to kill him,’ Drew said, his voice low, dangerous. ‘Sandy talked me out of it.’

‘And she was right. Putting him away is much better. You don’t get hunted for his murder, and… Even with all the controls there are in prison these days, it’s not an easy life for a child molester.’

‘What about Druss?’

‘Medium term, he’s not going to be a problem, but there isn’t enough evidence to lock him up.’

‘So he walks away?’

Fox smiled. ‘I work for a very big company with a very good memetics department. We even have a nice, mercenary reason for wanting to see Druss and his Watch discredited, so if you feel like distrusting our motives, you can go ahead and believe we’re doing it for the money.’

Cable gave a chuckle. ‘Woman like you doesn’t walk into a place like this with just a pistol and a smile for the money.’

Fox shrugged. ‘I’m never sure how the politics is in groups like this. Maybe you prefer thinking of me as the money-grubbing type.’

‘You… don’t strike me as the money-grubbing type.’

‘Hey, I live in a big house in the Manhattan Conservation District and I get paid buckets. Palladium’s even getting paid to find poor, missing Sandy because her parents are so concerned. Fucking bastard.’

‘So…’ Sandy still looked mortified. ‘What happens now?’

‘I can contact counsellors,’ Kit suggested.

‘Get to that later.’ Aloud Fox said, ‘Well, this is great, you two setting up home here. You know Sandy can’t stay.’

‘I want to stay with Drew!’ Sandy was suddenly alarmed, sitting up straight in her chair.

‘Sandy, you use three times the water Drew does. His lungs are fitted with a self-cleaning filtration system so the dust doesn’t affect him. Getting those mods yourself is going to be expensive and potentially dangerous. No one legitimate will do it until you’re eighteen.’

Sandy turned her head. ‘Drew?’ Drew avoided her eyes. ‘Drew?’ Sandy repeated.

‘She’s right,’ Drew mumbled. ‘I don’t know what… I thought we could figure it out. Somehow.’

‘Well, we can,’ Fox replied, ‘but I think you two need to have a longer courtship and Sandy needs to be somewhere safe. How’s the forecast looking?’

‘Storm’s sweeping in fast,’ Patsy replied.

‘Could we make it into Tulsa before it hits?’

‘Maybe, but you’d be pushed to be ready if you’re flying out.’ Patsy glanced at Cable. ‘We need to get the antenna down, make sure everything’s secure.’

‘Guess I’m spending the night. We can discuss how this is going to work.’ Fox pointed a finger, flicking it between Drew and Sandy. ‘You two need to decide on how you want to play this. Meanwhile, Cable, if you need help with anything, it’s the least I can do for your hospitality.’

~~~

Fox sat in one of the bigger chairs in the communal lounge, listening to the wind beating against the walls. They had a Doppler radar system which was still operating, shielded from the gale by a dome, and it was recording winds of 35 knots, gusting to 50. Rain was lashing the metal shutters over the windows, the clatter sounding to Fox like buckshot. Every so often, light could be seen through the slatted shields, followed by thunder: the distant clash of gods with field artillery.

‘It’s never this bad in Topeka,’ Sandy said into the relative silence after a nearby explosion.

‘You get used to it,’ Fox replied. ‘You learn to cope.’

‘I got the impression you’d rather I didn’t.’

‘If this is what you want, get the mods put in and come back. Not my place to say what you should or shouldn’t do. I think it’s wise to go into it with your eyes open, and not running away from something either. If you want to live out here, learn how to survive and come back.’

‘Is that what you did?’

‘Same principle. I did my research. I like to have a plan. I like to know what I’m getting into before I start.’ Fox rolled her eyes. ‘Of course, there isn’t always the luxury of enough time or information, and no plan ever survived implementation without casualties… I learned all I could about the Army and what I’d likely end up doing. I carefully considered what I thought my parents would do when I told them. I knew I’d have to work to get into the antiterrorism work I wanted, and I knew my parents would freak. Took less time than expected to get where I wanted, and even with all the planning, I still ended up yelling obscenities at my parents.’

‘Where’d you do your survival training?’ Cable asked.

‘Death Valley, forty-eight hours of burning Hell. Miami.’

Cable winced. ‘You too can be eaten alive by mosquitos.’

‘They don’t do live flight training around tornados now, except for the elite flight crews. That was all simulators.’

‘I didn’t do flight. Escaped that at least. They lost four crews the year I went through advanced training.’

Fox gave a nod. ‘They stopped it not that long after those kinds of figures started coming up.’

‘You did flight training, you did infiltration and extraction?’

‘I did.’

‘She was the one who got out of MarTech Dallas alive,’ Drew said. ‘Her and the hostage she was sent in to rescue. I remember seeing it on the news feeds.’

‘Heroism is overrated,’ Fox replied sourly. ‘Six people died so Terri and I could crawl out of that hole.’

‘I thought it was an eight-man team. Seven dead.’

‘Turns out one didn’t. I shot him in the head when he tried to kill me earlier this year. Could we pick another subject?’

‘Okay,’ Sandy said, ‘what am I going to do? I don’t want to be without Drew for a year, maybe longer. I just don’t.’

‘I had a thought on that,’ Cable replied. ‘That’s if Drew’s willing.’

‘Me?’ Drew looked nonplussed, so whatever it was, it was clearly news to him.

‘Bunch of us, not just this camp, we’ve been throwing around an idea. Maybe set up something a little more permanent than the market stalls up in Topeka. A shop.’

‘Problem’s always been that people up there don’t trust us so much,’ Patsy said. Patsy, Fox had figured out, was Cable’s partner and as close to a second in command as anyone. ‘We start moving in and we could have problems.’

Cable nodded in agreement. ‘But if we’ve got one young buck and his girlfriend who happens to be a local…’

‘Work in a shop?’ Sandy asked. ‘I… could do that. Drew? Would you–’

‘Fuck yeah!’ He coughed. ‘I mean, it’ll be tough living in all that civilisation when I’m used to my freedom and all, but for you…’

Sandy giggled. ‘You’d have to change your underwear. Every day.’

‘The horror,’ Fox drawled. ‘Must be love.’

2nd July.

‘Fox?’ Kit’s voice sounded urgent and Fox struggled to get her brain the rest of the way out of sleep. There was no sound of rain now, the wind had died away, and there was light showing through the shutters: pale, greyish light that suggested dawn was imminent.

‘What time is it?’

‘Five forty-nine. The storm died down just after midnight. The radar is detecting a large, fast-moving vehicle coming in from the north.’

Opening her eyes, Fox sat up. ‘We may have trouble,’ she said, not especially loudly, but Cable was awake in an instant.

‘What?’

‘Your radar is showing something, ground vehicle, coming this way. You expecting anyone?’

He shook his head. ‘Patsy!’ Patsy stirred, her eyes snapping open an instant later. ‘Patsy, get a couple of people with rifles stationed around the camp.’

‘No shooting unless it’s absolutely necessary,’ Fox added.

Patsy shrugged. ‘Goes without saying. We don’t want NAPA down here snooping around camp.’ She got to her feet and headed for the door.

‘I’ll meet them–’ Cable began.

‘We’ll meet them. If it’s who I think it is, they won’t be reasonable with you. They might be reasonable with me.’ She reached for the rucksack she had brought with her, opened it up, and pulled out a magazine for her pistol. ‘But if they aren’t, they’re going to wish they had been.’

~~~

The big, black SUV with shaded windows pulled to a stop in the open area in front of the communal hut and four men climbed out. Fox watched them from where she was standing, hands behind her back, with Cable. They were all big men, muscled, heavy in the jaw, arrogance in the expressions they were wearing. Each was armed with an assault rifle with an underslung micromissile launcher, and they were wearing hardshell body armour. No helmets: amateurs always forgot the helmets.

‘You gentlemen lost?’ Cable asked.

‘We’re right where we want to be,’ one of the men replied. He settled himself in a confident pose, feet a shoulder-width apart, weapon resting in the crook of his elbow and pointing straight up. His grin was as confident as his posture. ‘Wendell Brooks, Topeka Watch. We’re here to retrieve a girl that was taken from her home and family in Topeka. Sandy Bateson. You don’t want to stand in our–’

‘Sandy is in my custody,’ Fox stated. ‘I’ll be flying her back to the city this morning.’

‘And who might you be?’

‘Tara Meridian, Palladium Security Solutions, contracted to find Sandy. And I have.’

‘Yeah, well, you aren’t NAPA and–’

‘And neither are you. You’re a member of a civilian militia. Nice weaponry, which it’s illegal for you to be carrying.’ Silently she added, ‘Kit, package up some video of these jokers and send it to Detective Rogers. I bet NAPA would love to raid the Watch for illegal weapons.’

‘Done,’ Kit replied.

Brooks smiled. ‘NAPA isn’t here. We have automatic weapons and we are not afraid to use them to bring a little, lost girl back to–’

‘Cory Druss? I’d imagine his reputation is suffering by now. Get Sandy out of the way and there’s no one to testify to her father’s activities except a wife so terrified of her husband she won’t make a sound. Take the sympathetic face out of the equation and you can tar Sandy with whatever brush you like. What’s it to be? She was really a slut just gagging for her old man? Slept around? Got a dozen watchmen willing to testify that she banged them all? I can’t quite believe you’re expecting this to blow over without help.’

Brooks was not quite bright enough not to let his surprise show. Fox smiled at him. ‘I’m a reasonable person and I don’t like bloodshed,’ she told him. ‘Get back in that truck, turn around, and go back to Topeka and we’ll say you never came.’

Fox watched Brooks. His eyes flicked over her, still in her tiny shorts and bikini top. Then it was Cable’s turn and the bulky frame and pistol were analysed. Fox knew exactly when Brooks decided to take his chance, and she saw his decision to take out Cable first in the way his eyes stayed on the big man with the big beard. She waited for him to move, for his arms to shift as he dropped the rifle to take aim. Then she swept her pistol from behind her back, lined up the sighting laser, and fired. There was a flare of light and the pulse of pressure from the detonation, and Brooks was tossed back to slam into the front of his truck before keeling over. The smell of burned flesh swelled out to engulf them.

‘Anyone else?’ Fox asked, her pistol held level, shifting between the three remaining men. ‘Weapons on the ground. Now!’

As men laid their rifles down, Cable shook his head. ‘Christ, lady. Remind me never to piss you off.’

‘I am a lady,’ Fox replied. ‘I don’t like being ignored.’

Topeka Agri-Zone.

‘Mom is looking kind of subdued.’ Fox sat on the veranda with her father and a glass of whiskey that did not strip the lining from your throat. They were staring into space, mostly. It had been a fairly long day and Fox was tired. Once the clean-up had been handled in Tulsa, she had flown back to Topeka with Sandy and Drew, handing them off to Rogers who placed them in protective custody in the NAPA building. And then there had been questions and news, and it had been late afternoon by the time she got back to her parents’ home.

‘She’s had an… eventful couple of days. Malcolm Bateson’s arrest. This afternoon NAPA sent a team out from Chicago, too many people for a local office like Topeka, to raid a number of Watch buildings and uncovered caches of military-grade weapons that were being stockpiled ahead of the resolution passing. The Watch is now under investigation as an illegal paramilitary organisation. And Cory Druss is losing delegated votes rather quickly. Andrea removed her support for him yesterday, a little ahead of the start of the scandal.’

‘A scandal? Really?’ Fox kept her tone level, if slightly amused.

‘Yes, rumours, apparently with some proof, that he likes having sex with underage girls. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?’

‘Well… I knew he liked younger women. Much younger.’

‘Ah. And there was another matter Andrea had to discuss. Personal matter.’ His voice did not change. There was no hint of discomfort.

Fox bit her lip. There was a second or two of silence while she considered. ‘She told you about Druss?’

‘She told me. She also told me you’d played her the recording of Bateson.’

‘You don’t seem terribly broken up about it.’

‘I knew. Andrea’s a clever woman, but she’s not as smart as she thinks she is, and I’m more observant than she believes I am.’

‘I had to get it from somewhere. It certainly didn’t come from Mom.’

Jonathan laughed. ‘Actually, your great-grandfather was a detective with the NYPD.’

‘Seriously? What goes around, comes around, I guess. So…’

‘Andrea and I have drifted apart. I didn’t like it, but I… I couldn’t figure out how to change anything. In many ways, that’s my fault as much as hers. I’ve concerned myself with my fields, played along with her politics mainly to try to curb the excesses.’

‘You were trying to stop the Watch?’

‘No. I believe in local policing. I also believe that having it staffed by a bunch of untrained assholes with assault weapons is a sure-fire way of turning this town into something out of the Wild West. Andrea couldn’t see it. She does now. She knows she was being played. She is considering stepping out of politics entirely.’

Fox frowned. ‘Don’t let her, Dad. I like the fact that you two started doing something about what you believe in. Don’t stop. Do what you wanted to do: turn the Watch into something good. I’m thinking Ross and Sheila Runyard would be interested in your thoughts.’

Jonathan took a sip from his glass. ‘A contact with a private security company who handles training and technology might be useful.’

‘Maybe it would, especially if that contact happened to be on the board.’

‘That would make it more interesting. You happen to know anyone like that?’

‘I… might, yeah. Local girl too.’

‘All the better. Maybe we should put your mother out of her misery, get her in on the conversation.’

‘Is she still wearing dresses that would fit a doll?’

‘Yes, she is. I’ll tell you a secret, though. I still think she’s the most beautiful woman I ever met, except maybe for my daughter. And now she’s wearing the clothes for me.’

Part Four: We Hurt the Ones We Love

New York Metro, 2nd July 2060.

Kit stopped halfway through cross-checking her data for the sixth time. This kind of uncertainty in her own data handling and evaluation was not only pointless, but entirely too human. She was an AI, not an organic and… Well, no, maybe it was not a human characteristic. A human, far slower at data manipulation, would likely have stopped at three times, if they had got that far. Whatever the case, she had evaluated, re-evaluated, checked back to the source, twice, and evaluated again. She had tried three different methods of evaluating the statistical validity and that was incredibly stupid when the data points she was analysing corresponded precisely. Enough was enough, she was quite positive of her determination.

She had, after a day, uncovered three more evidentiary images or text documents indicating that victims of the killer had not been on the run LifeFit said they were on when they were kidnapped. That was a quarter of the known victims and enough to indicate that this was not simply a bug. Or that it was a bug which applied to a number of cases. She had decided that further evaluation of the runs the victims had stored on LifeFit was in order.

That was when the statistical analysis had begun, because there was an oddity which required further analysis. In every single case, the victims had undertaken the run LifeFit claimed they were on a few days earlier as well as the day of their kidnap. Not entirely unreasonable: these were their favoured routes and they ran them regularly. However, LifeFit gave a quite detailed view of each run, with elapsed times at various waypoints. In each case, the final run matched a recent one up to the point where the person vanished, down to the millisecond.

Kit had read articles on sports physiology. She had run statistical variance routines to determine how likely the correspondence was. The probability of such precise replication was so low that she had begun doubting her findings and the cross-checks had started. Well, enough, the data was saying something to her and she was sure what she was seeing was the truth.

But what was it saying?

~~~

27Lex was buzzing more than usual and Sam was vaguely wondering why, but mostly he was focused on the pretty redhead who was with him. Marie was just about bouncing. Her eyes were alight and her body was bursting with energy.

‘I know it’s not acting,’ Marie said, ‘but… Well, it’s sort of a bit like acting. Well, no it’s not, but it’s something that could get me some exposure.’

‘Oh yes,’ Sam agreed. ‘I’ve seen Lucille Graves’s designs. Exposure is guaranteed.’

Marie just giggled. ‘Sex sells. I want serious acting rolls, obviously, but I’m pretty.’

‘Agreed.’

Another giggle. ‘Thank you. I mean that I’m going to get parts based on my looks, at first, not on my amazing character-acting skills. I don’t actually have amazing character-acting skills yet. If I have a portfolio with some more… exotic pictures in it, I’ll attract attention.’

‘So when are you going out there?’

‘The nineteenth. I stay the week. Lucy’s photographer says he’s got a couple of locations he wants to try out and some of the shoots will be at night. Something about the lighting. He’s been scouting for a couple of weeks and Lucy said he was really enthusiastic about the project.’

‘It all sounds good. I think you’ll do well out of it. Frankly, you’re built for something like this. Mrs Graves’s designs wouldn’t suit a traditional, stick-thin fashion model, but they also won’t suit a larger woman. Showing them off well would require a fairly specific body form.’

‘Oh?’ Marie asked. She felt like she was fishing a little, but did not care for some reason. Sam nodded, his expression bland, but he scanned his eyes up and down Marie in an appraising manner which had her cheeks heating. Actually, Marie’s entire body was rather heated tonight. The memetic signals and subliminals in 27Lex had hit her before. They were designed to promote ‘friendly relations,’ generally of an intimate nature, and they worked, but she had not even noticed them tonight so that could not be the reason for the way her nipples were tightening against her plazkin boob tube.

‘Fairly large breasts,’ Sam said. ‘Not excessive, but moderately large. Firm, good shape, nicely rounded. Slim, fit body. Her designs will work well with a little muscle.’

Marie swallowed to wet her suddenly dry throat. ‘Fox would probably do well.’

‘Yes, but I don’t think Fox would wear Mrs Groves’s designs and she certainly wouldn’t model them. Your legs.’

‘My legs?’

‘You have… fantastic legs. Long. Good… form. I sound like I’m talking about a racehorse.’

Marie managed another giggle, but it was a little forced. There was a growing ache, an itch deep in her groin which was going to need a long session with two or three toys to ease, or…

‘Warm tonight,’ Sam said, turning to the bar and lifting his glass.

‘Very. They must’ve set the environmental controls wrong. Or something.’

‘Or something.’

Change the subject! Talk about anything else. ‘Anyway,’ Marie said, trying to keep her voice light, ‘I’ll be away for a week, but Belle says she can handle things. You know, Belle is quite capable of handling everything I do. I kind of feel bad getting room and board, and being paid, and doing stuff that could easily be handled–’

‘I’m not going to kick you out because we have a house AI designed to run an entire arcology, Marie. When your career is earning you enough to live on, we can discuss it again. Consider it as a furtherance of Felix’s faith in you.’

‘Okay.’ Marie grinned. ‘You know, I’ve got this stupid maid’s outfit. The skirt’s so short and I practically fall out of the top. When Felix was feeling sad, I’d sometimes put it on and wander around dusting things, and he wasn’t interested like that, but he’d laugh and it would cheer him up a little. I could wear that around the house…’

Sam flashed her a grin. ‘I’m sure that would be quite enjoyable. You should practise a fake French accent.’

‘Got that. Oh mon-sewer! I am zee good girl.’ Sam looked at her, one eyebrow raised. ‘Okay, so it might need some work.’

‘Stockings with this outfit?’

‘I usually go with fishnet thigh-highs and six-inch heeled pumps. You did say I have good legs.’ Even while she was saying it, Marie was wondering how she had steered the conversation back in that direction.

‘You do.’

‘Sam?’

‘Yes, Marie?’

‘Have you ever been in one of those privacy booths downstairs?’

‘Not here. I don’t come here for work. I’ve used a couple, though my clientele tends to prefer more private environments.’

‘What’s the attraction?’

‘It’s the danger. It’s not really dangerous, obviously. You can’t be discovered in the act, but there’s the feeling that you could be, and the slight embarrassment of everyone seeing you go in and come out. Everyone knows, or thinks they do, what you’ve been doing.’ He turned, looking right into her eyes. ‘Why? Do you want to try one?’

Marie’s throat was dry again. She swallowed. ‘Yes.’ She was not really sure that the word had left her lips, but he took her hand and turned, walking toward the stairs. Marie’s heart was hammering in her chest, and her stomach felt as though a host of butterflies had taken up residence.

There was one booth free when they got to the bottom floor. They were busy tonight, unusually so, and if all the doors had been closed, Marie might have managed to stop what was happening. She was sure that Sam would have come to his senses. Instead, they walked straight into the booth and she did not have time to be embarrassed at the thought that what was going to happen was obvious to everyone watching. The room was circular, a curved, bench-like couch taking up all the space aside from the doorway. Above that was a shelf where drinks could be placed. The floor was open, no table to get in the way, and there was thick, soft carpet on the floor if the occupants thought the bench was too narrow.

Sam turned even before the door was closed. His mouth took hers, urgent, hungry. Marie knew how wound up she was, but it seemed that Sam felt the same. His hands rolled her top down around her ribs and she felt the coolness of his silk shirt against her breasts, the heat of his skin behind it. The ache between her legs was becoming unbearable. He broke the kiss, bending to suck one of her nipples into his mouth, biting.

Marie let out a sharp gasp and there was the shock of her first orgasm, a blinding explosion of lights behind her eyes that subsided quickly and promised more. ‘H-how good’s the s-soundproofing?’ she gasped.

‘Good enough,’ he replied. He pulled her micro-skirt up. She gasped as his hand cupped the wet, silky material over her mound. ‘Again,’ he whispered. ‘Come again.’ His fingers pressed, circled; she let out a whimper and her knees buckled as the second wave of bliss washed through her. She did not realise he was holding her up until he placed her down on the bench, her butt almost hanging off, and worked her wet panties down her legs.

‘Want you in me,’ she moaned. It seemed to take forever for him to unbuckle his slacks. ‘Want you in me now.’

He drove into her and her back arched. Her long legs wrapped around him, heels pressing into his back as he took up a rhythm, urgent, forceful, driving her higher and higher as he climbed with her. She felt herself sliding over the edge again, gripped him fiercely as he kept up the onslaught of her senses. Her vision blurred and darkened, and cleared to find him still inside her, still moving.

‘With me this time,’ he said as she began to buck her hips against his thrusts. ‘Come with me, Marie.’ And then he was emptying himself into her and she could barely feel it because of the pleasure washing through her body.

Topeka Agri-Zone, 3rd July.

‘I want to thank you,’ Andrea said.

Fox looked up at her. They were alone: Jonathan had gone to the toilet, the result of excess whiskey. ‘For?’

‘Everything. You found Sandy, as we asked. You got her and her mother out from under that monster’s thumb. You taught me a very valuable lesson. Two very valuable lessons.’

‘Two? That has to be the most I’ve taught anyone in ages.’

‘You taught me,’ Andrea said seriously, despite her look of amusement, ‘that betraying my husband, who loves me, was possibly the stupidest thing I have ever done. Especially when the betrayal was with a man like Cory Druss.’

Fox shrugged. ‘I won’t argue, but if Dad’s willing to forgive you… He says it’s partially his fault. And it generally takes two to fuck something up properly.’

‘Mostly it was my fault and I won’t let him say otherwise. The second thing you taught me was, don’t give up. I’ll carry on working, but this time Jonathan will be working with me, and we’ll be making a Watch worthy of the name.’

‘Good.’ Fox looked around as Jonathan walked back out to the veranda. ‘Made room for more?’

‘One more,’ Jonathan replied. ‘It’s two a.m. You’ll stay the rest of the weekend?’

‘I guess I can manage that. As long as there isn’t another party.’

‘Oh,’ Andrea said, ‘I don’t think I want to have my daughter upstage me with another dress. There’ll be celebrations tomorrow, of course, but that’s not really a party.’

Fox had almost forgotten that some areas still celebrated the fourth of July. ‘Not sure how I could outdo the last one unless I turn up in titty-tape and a thong.’

‘I’m quite sure you’d think of something, Fox. Overachievement runs in our side of the family.’

New York Metro.

Helen Dillan opened her eyes, evaluated her position, and yawned, loudly and profusely. Saturday off. Saturday off and only another sixteen days before she would be starting her new job. And before that there was going to be her trip out to the Moon with Terri. Now that was something to look forward to, and while she was away, Palladium would be moving her into her palatial new accommodation.

She slipped out of bed and padded through to the bathroom and the shower. Her new apartment was not actually palatial, not compared to Terri’s place anyway, but it was a damn sight better than the little place she had now. The shower had never really worked as well as it could, but it got her clean. On the other hand, the air system was totally useless and she had to resort to a towel to get dry. She was in the middle of that when her implant signalled an incoming telepresence call. Frowning, she accepted it.

The sight of the white-clad shape of Kit appearing in her bathroom came as something of a surprise. ‘Oh, Detective, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you in the middle of drying yourself.’

Dillan sagged a little. ‘I should’ve screened my avatar. Sorry, Kit. Uh, what was it you wanted? Isn’t Fox out of town?’

‘She is, and that is why I thought I might ask you to examine some evidence I have uncovered. Prior to her return, I thought you might provide some insight.’

‘Well, it’s my day off, but I guess I could take a look. What do you have?’ Dillan finished drying her hair and started through into the lounge. Breakfast was calling.

‘I have been studying the connections between a series of murders,’ Kit began.

‘I think Fox mentioned something… Uh, people going missing on runs, tortured, killed. Eleven victims?’

‘Twelve now. The body found outside the conference centre was the latest. All the victims used LifeFit and their last route was recorded.’

‘So NAPA would know precisely where they were abducted. I’m surprised no one’s found something to stop this guy.’

‘It is, indeed, an odd problem. However, I came across a picture posted to LifeWeb which showed a victim, on the day they were taken, but not on the route LifeFit claimed they ran. I then tracked down more evidence that others were not on their recorded route.’

‘That’s… interesting. I get the feeling you’ve got more.’

‘I have,’ Kit beamed. She stood there, smiling happily, as Dillan began to organise some cereal and coffee. ‘I examined all the last routes and discovered, in every case, that the same route had been run a few days earlier. This is not strange in itself since the recorded routes are usually favourites. However, in each case, the elapsed times to the route waypoints were precisely the same.’

‘So they managed to run the same times on those runs, that doesn’t sound–’

‘Exactly the same times, Detective Dillan. Exact to the millisecond.’

Dillan paused, looked at Kit, and then reached for the fridge where she stored her synthetic milk supply. ‘To the millisecond? Okay, now we’re talking impossible.’

‘No, but the statistical probability is… Let’s just say that it’s small. Spread across twelve cases it’s…’ Kit paused, trying to come up with a suitable adjective.

‘Ludicrous? That’s either an act of God or someone faked the data.’

‘I was hoping you’d say that. Do you always wander around your apartment in the nude?’

‘Environmental controls are flaky. You won’t be able to tell, but it’s like a sauna in here.’

‘I’d imagine you are keen to move into your new apartment.’ Kit glanced at the milk Dillan was pouring. ‘The dairy products in the MarTech buildings are significantly better too. The problem I have is deciding on how this data could be faked. Data is transmitted at each waypoint from the LifeFit application to the LifeWeb servers. There it is logged in real time. I have theories about how the trick could be achieved, but they seem far-fetched.’

‘Okay… Hold on.’ Dillan sat down on one of her slightly forlorn sofas and spooned cereal into her mouth, munching for a few seconds before chasing it down her throat with coffee. ‘That is better. I’m not a tech, but you’d need to hack the servers, hack the LifeFit app, or pull a man-in-the-middle intercept. The last of those would probably be next to impossible over a public network, so someone’s hacked LifeWeb or the app. I’d say the app is the easier option. Some sort of virus or worm.’

‘You don’t think it’s far-fetched then?’

Dillan shrugged. ‘Kit, I’m not the detective Fox is, but I think she’d tell you the same thing. And that is that if a theory fits the facts you have, you work on that theory until you get facts to disprove it. Cant’s the lead on those murders, isn’t he?’

‘Yes. Fox has been quite surprised at his openness concerning the case. He seems determined to solve it. She believes that it irritates him that this killer got away from him.’

‘Cant can hold a grudge. Sometimes that’s a good thing. Why not put together the evidence you have and send it to him? Suggest he has the last victim’s computer checked for any viruses. If they can’t find anything, someone’s going to have go talk to LifeWeb about their server security.’

‘I will do that. Thank you, Detective.’

Dillan grinned at her. ‘You should probably start calling me Helen.’

‘Thank you, Helen. I believe that it will be a pleasure working with you when you join Palladium.’

‘Thank you, Kit. Do you think they could get me one of your series as a PA?’

‘Why not ask? You are going to a spa with my designer.’

~~~

Marie lay with her eyes closed and enjoyed the rather warm, comfortable feeling of the morning after a night of enthusiastic, amazing sex. Then she opened her eyes, remembered who had been her partner, and the guilt hit her like a blow to the stomach. And this time she was quite sure of what had happened even if she was not quite sure why. Sam did not generally engage in recreational sex. What had happened last night to result in them fucking like bunnies when they both knew it was going to cause problems?

‘We’re adults,’ Sam said from the other side of the bed, ‘so we’ll deal with it.’

‘How did you know I was awake? And thinking about that?’

‘You were lying there, calm as could be, and then you stiffened like you’d been shot. Reading body language is part of the job.’

‘Oh. What happened? You’re gorgeous and all, but… I mean, you’re not like that and I was so worried about it when I got drunk. I should’ve been more…’

‘Controlled? I have a theory on that. I’ll do some research.’

‘O-okay. I, uh, I think I should tell her. I think it’s my job.’

‘If you wish. She’s my friend too and we are both to blame, if blame is the right word. Don’t take this on yourself.’

Marie considered that for a second. Probability was that she would try to shift all the blame to herself, but she was not going to say that. ‘What happens next?’

‘Next? A shower and breakfast. When Fox gets back, we can worry over what to do about current events.’ He pulled back the sheets and sat up, and then paused. ‘You did enjoy it, I hope?’

‘It was incredible. I’m not sure whether that makes it better or worse.’

‘No,’ Sam agreed, his tone a little puzzled, ‘neither am I.’

5th July.

Cant was looking grumpy when Fox walked into his office. His expression did not change noticeably on seeing her, but he waved her into a chair.

‘Your little friend gave me some information,’ Cant said. ‘I assume you’ve been briefed.’

‘On the way back in from Topeka. You managed to persuade the techs to look at Coolidge’s implant?’

‘Wiped. Someone got administrative access to it and erased everything. Presumably the killer did it, so he’s got computing skills, which works with your PA’s theory, but we still have no evidence of how this trick is being pulled.’

‘She was an LWOS user, right? All her email traffic and messages–’

‘Techs are working on it. Not my first rodeo, Meridian.’

Fox let herself smile. ‘You know, I do know that. How about I look into LifeWeb while you track that down? I’ll get my people to look into their security.’

Cant gave her a shrug. ‘Can’t hurt, can it? And you’ve got “people” like Jackson Martins to do the looking. Compared to him, the entire NAPA technical department are amateurs.’

‘Oh, Terri’s in town working on the new detective assistance AIs. Jackson and Terri together… They could find a pinhole poked in the side of a barn.’

~~~

‘Okay, Kit. Before we go to Jackson and Terri with this, I want to know all about LifeWeb.’ Fox settled onto her sofa with a mug of coffee, crossed her legs, and settled down for a long haul.

‘The software or the company?’ Kit asked.

‘Let’s start with the company.’

‘LifeWeb was founded in March twenty twenty-three by Leonard Dandridge and Reginald Grant. Dandridge remains the public face of LifeWeb, very good with people, a good public speaker. He proselytised the product and, supposedly anyway, came up with the idea of tying it to the new electronic voting system. New at the time, that is. The launch in August of twenty twenty-four was timed such that users could use LifeRight, the only add-on available at launch, to track voting among their friends and handle the delegation system in a manner many found superior to the government app.’

‘And Grant?’

‘The technical genius. Not quite to Mister Martins’ standard, but he had very good computer skills and a talent for analysing social interactions. His skill with individuals is considerably less developed and he avoided the limelight. Rumours suggested this was deliberate. He fits the stereotype of the “nerd.”’

‘You’re mixing tenses, Kit. That’s not like you.’

‘Mister Grant, R. A. to his friends, is alive, but has been taking an increasingly less active role in the company since twenty fifty-six. He officially retired in May of this year. The company’s stock value did not waver. Mister Grant was responsible for the LifeWear line of wearable computers and for all the software variants, but there has been talk of him being reluctant to improve the LWOS software as the board believes should happen. With him out of the picture, a number of analysts are predicting a rejuvenation in the LifeWeb product list.’

‘That’d be nice, I guess. Where are they based?’

Kit floated a map of Long Island with a flashing dot next to the LI-line, somewhere around Old Westbury and Jericho. ‘LifeWeb have a number of offices worldwide, primarily handling local tax issues, localisation, and LifeWear shipping. Some technical work is done outside America as well, but the main focus of the company is the LifeWeb Tower which sits on part of the old SUNY college at Old Westbury. Mister Grant did a postgraduate course in sociology there before it closed. When the company wanted to put up an arcology to house their main business offices, he bought the site, keeping several of the buildings in place.’

‘Of course. I’ve seen it from the maglev on the way to the MarTech towers.’ Fox looked at the map for something to look at while her brain worked. ‘Okay, so LifeWeb itself is basically a sociometric networking tool with a bunch of glue-in modules to handle fitness, music, voting, uh…’

‘The LifeRight voting app was rolled into the core system in twenty forty-five. There are also applications for handling blogs of all types, through LifeWeb of course, dating, and a number of other social tools. A subscription service is available which blocks advertising and works as a distributed memetic filter, using the user’s preferences combined with those of their friends to mask inappropriate memes which arrive by indirect means. The music and dating apps are also subscription-based. My research indicates that the primary use for the dating app, LifeMeet, is finding immediately available, casual sex partners. I assume the name is, therefore, ironic.’

‘LifeBootyCall probably didn’t pass muster at the marketing meeting. The servers?’

‘A major data centre in the tower here, several distributed centres worldwide.’

‘Which would surely make hacking them more of a problem? I mean, where do you go looking for the data you want to change?’

‘If the data has been changed post facto, we could detect it if we had access to the system,’ Kit said, frowning, ‘and the data would be stored relatively locally so that would not be an issue, but I do not believe our perpetrator would risk that kind of cyberattack.’

‘Oh? Reasoning?’

‘Changing the data after the fact, even almost immediately, risks someone seeing the original data before it can be changed. It would take only one instance of that for suspicions to set in. Our profile suggests a man who mitigates risk as much as possible and the easiest way to do that would be to fake the data at source.’

Fox nodded slowly. ‘You’re betting on the app being altered.’

‘I am, but my expertise does not lie in cybersecurity. I’m simply an AI with an interest in the matter. I would be interested in hearing Mister Martins’ opinion.’

6th July.

‘You compiled all this yourself, Kit?’ Terri was sounding more than a little impressed.

‘She is very good at handling large amounts of information,’ Fox pointed out.

‘And I did have some help,’ Kit added. ‘I requested aid from Detective Dillan, Helen, in the interpretation. Though she did confirm my thoughts on the matter, I suppose.’

‘Of course, the idea of using an AI for detective work is hardly without foundation,’ Terri said. ‘I just didn’t expect it to be one of mine, and one intended for general purpose assistant work.’

Fox shrugged. ‘She’s my assistant. She was bound to end up doing things like this. And aren’t AIs good at memetics work too?’

‘Their insight into the way their own minds work tends to allow them insight into the general working of thought systems. So profiling would be a talent embedded in Kit’s nature. Yes.’

‘There you go. I keep saying Helen will be my first employee, but I really have detective staff already. Kit just doesn’t get the acclaim and the salary.’

‘Perhaps,’ Jackson said, ‘we should consider a stipend of some sort for our young detective in the making.’ They were all in Jackson’s office, which was a room designed for the most private conversations, but also one equipped with a huge screen upon which Kit had been presenting her evidence.

Kit looked at him, blinking. ‘What would I do with my own income, Mister Martins?’

‘I have no idea, young lady, but wouldn’t it be interesting to find out? Now then, I also concur that some corruption of the application is the most likely source of the erroneous data.’

‘It seems like the simplest way of doing it,’ Terri agreed, ‘and it would explain the erasure of the woman’s implant.’

‘But so would making sure no recording of the killer remained. No, I’m basing this on data you don’t have, Teresa. LifeWeb has exclusively used MarTech servers since twenty forty-nine. They insisted on their own software for everything then, but we build the best equipment and they gradually phased out all their other suppliers. In twenty fifty-six, they replaced their security solutions with MarTech systems as well. Technologies supplied the equipment and software, and Services integrated it, so we have some in-house knowledge of the difficulty of penetration.’

‘And it’s not easy?’ Fox asked, knowing the answer anyway.

‘I would hope not. We have discovered and patched a few vulnerabilities since fifty-six, of course. No software system is entirely invulnerable. However, twelve instances of this kind of attack spread across several years… I find it difficult to believe that no one noticed any of them. I’ll initiate an investigation anyway. We have tight timeframes for the invasions, if there were any, so examining traffic in those timeframes should not be too hard.’

‘So, an external attacker is unlikely, but we could be looking at an inside job.’

‘That can’t be ruled out, no. However, I know that it would require someone with high-level access to the system. There might be twenty people with the kind of access we’re talking about. That’s worldwide. I can get you a list of… certainly most of them since they have administrative access to the security system as well.’

‘That’s worth exploring,’ Fox said, nodding. ‘Send the data to my new apprentice detective. She’s really good at finding information on people.’

Kit stayed silent, but the colour of her cheeks spoke volumes.

~~~

‘Kit,’ Fox said as she walked toward the house.

‘Yes, Fox?’

‘Given that you’re good with analysing people…’

‘I do not believe I am any better than you are, Fox. Primarily I employ skill packages to do my analysis, though I am learning, quite fast.’

‘Yeah, well, your impression is all I really need. Do you think Marie was avoiding me last night?’

‘Um… Yes. Oh, maybe not.’

‘That was… equivocal.’

‘Well, I just got an update from my counterpart at home and Marie has just asked when you will be back. She wishes to know whether you would like to go running with her.’

‘Okay. I’ll meet her in the hall in thirty.’

~~~

At ten thirty in the morning, Central Park was still sweltering. There was a distinct quality of humidity along with the heat. Even under the trees, out of direct sunlight, it felt like you were wading through bathwater.

‘Probably a storm coming in,’ Fox commented as she ran along beside Marie.

‘Yeah, Belle’s forecast… said the same.’ They were making a fair pace, Fox’s pace, and Marie was trying manfully to maintain it, but her breathing was a little laboured.

Fox eased back a bit, slowly, so that Marie would not notice her taking it easy. ‘It was hotter in Topeka, would you believe?’

‘Yeah, I’d believe it. Sioux Falls could… get warm.’

‘On the plus side, I rescued a battered girl, had her abusive father locked up, and probably took down a potential fascist police agency. And I helped fix my parents’ marriage and pretty much made up with them.’

‘That’s good.’ There was a pause as Marie gathered herself. ‘I slept with Sam.’

Fox felt her stomach sink. There was a sensation like falling and she wondered whether she was stumbling, but the ground was not actually rushing up at her face. No, she was running, carrying on as though nothing had happened. ‘Oh. Well. Was it good?’

‘It… was amazing. A-and then I woke up and realised what I’d done. We went out. Two Seven Lex. It was… I don’t know. It was so sudden. We went to one of their booths.’

‘Sam took you to a private booth and banged you silly?’

‘Yes.’

‘Fox.’ Kit’s voice broke into Fox’s head, but the turmoil in there blocked the sense of urgency in the single word.

‘Not now, Kit.’

‘Now, Fox. Belle wants to know why we are not with Marie.’

‘What? We are–’

‘LifeFit says that she is running in the Battery.’

Fox grabbed Marie’s arm and came to a dead stop, looking around them at every bush and tree.

‘Fox,’ Marie said, ‘please don’t be angry. I don’t know what happened, but–’

‘Shut up.’

‘But–’

‘The serial killer I’ve been tracking. You’re his next victim. Stop talking.’ There were people about, plenty of them, but none seemed to be watching the two runners. ‘Shit. He could be anywhere.’

‘Why would someone want to kill–’

‘You use LifeFit. You’re young, attractive, fit. That seems to be enough for him. Now close your mouth and let me work. We keep running. We might be able to spot him. I’m guessing he’ll avoid contact if he sees you’re not alone, but we might spot him.’

‘Fox, you’re not armed,’ Kit pointed out.

‘I’ve got weaponry, just not a gun. And remind me to bring one next time I go running.’ Fox started off again, Marie dashing a pace to keep up.

‘Shouldn’t we… call the cops, maybe?’ Marie asked.

‘Not a bad idea. Kit, call Cant, tell him what’s happening. Tell him I think securing the camera footage for the area would be a good idea.’

‘Yes, Fox,’ Kit replied. ‘Belle says that Marie’s LifeFit feed still indicates that she is running around the Battery.’

‘Get me the route we’re actually taking from Marie’s favourite list.’ As the map image appeared in Fox’s vision field, a marker placed where they currently were. Fox said aloud, ‘You know, this application is a godsend to muggers. Look, this is the route I take when I go running, and you can see all the best places to stop me.’

‘E-everyone does it,’ Marie replied, somewhat defensively. ‘I mean, not everyone, but… Shit, Fox, I’ve never been a killer’s victim before.’

‘And you won’t be this time. Where would he try… There, that underpass. Bastard’s confident. Broad daylight in Central Park. Another hundred metres.’

Fox scanned the area as the ground began to dip. Ahead of them the path went through a tunnel with a larger track above it. They would be out of sight of most people for a few seconds, but that would be enough for someone well prepared to handle their victim. Maybe enough for two if he was really well prepared. Would he lose his kill just because someone else was there? Would he not be prepared for that?

As they neared the tunnel, Fox saw another runner coming through from the far side. Tall, not much more than thirty, dark hair, tightly muscled body. He was in running gear, but he had gloves on. Shock gloves, electric shock pads in glove form, could be disguised as ordinary gloves. Fox felt her muscles tighten, her heart rate bump up a notch, fight-or-flight reflex cutting in as they got closer. She slowed a little, readying herself…

And he ran past, not even looking at them, and they were back out into dappled sunlight. Fox looked around quickly. There was no one else around that she could see and the runner was still running away from them.

‘Keep going,’ Fox said to Marie. Inside her head, she said, ‘Kit, get that guy’s image to Cant. Maybe the good detective can check on him.’

‘The good detective?’ Kit replied.

‘He’s good if he nails our bad guy.’

~~~

Fox looked in through the observation window of a room in MarTech tower. While it looked like a hospital room, it was actually an electronics laboratory, one specifically designed for working on systems which needed to be isolated from external networks. Inside it, Marie was sitting pensively in a chair while three technicians sat around her with various pieces of equipment.

‘Is she okay?’ Cant asked.

‘Shocked, scared, but she hasn’t been kidnapped, raped, tortured, or murdered,’ Fox replied.

‘Definitely better than the last one. This confirms your PA’s theory.’

‘Pretty much, though it would’ve been better if I’d been able to spot our guy. Any luck with that other runner?’

‘Dead end. We found him, questioned him. He was in Chicago when Coolidge was being killed. He’s not our killer. And the virus thing is still looking bad. We went through Coolidge’s account and got nothing. No sign of malware in anything.’

‘Marie’s agreed to let my people look at her stuff. I’ll let you know if we find anything, but given your results, I’m not hopeful. Meanwhile, the run data on Marie’s implant is corrupted somehow, and the data logged to the servers was deleted “by user request.”’

Cant gave a grunt. ‘It sounds like something to do with the app to me, even if we can’t find a virus. Maybe your techs will find something. Let me know.’

‘Oh, I will.’

‘You know… The guy drops a body on your doorstep and then targets your friend. Sounds like he’s trying to make it personal.’

‘That thought had occurred to me.’

‘Right.’ Without another word, Cant left the room and Fox was left to watch the technicians work on the nervous redhead. Until Sam arrived.

Sam was looking as concerned as he got. ‘Fox, what happened? Is she all right?’

‘Yes, she is, and we can buy Belle a bottle of digital whiskey or something for that later. They’re trying to work out what the Hell happened with her implant. Apparently it still isn’t behaving right. Authentication is screwed up. She can’t access her LifeFit stats. They have her isolated now and they’re infiltrating it.’

‘Well, at least you were there to stop this guy.’

‘Yeah. So…. What happened, Sam? You don’t get sudden urges for wildass copulation in the private booths of a club.’

‘She told you then?’

‘Just before Kit told me about the hack, or whatever it is. So that pretty much stopped me from getting an explanation. Not that I think she has one.’

‘I did some digging. The club got itself a new memetics engineer recently and his new viron went live this week. There have been a few comments online that the suggestion for sex is significantly stronger than it was. We won’t be going there again. It’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation. I’m sorry.’

‘I… I want to contract you to guard her. I don’t think he’ll try again, but maybe he’s the sort who won’t back down when he’s picked a target. Actually, how would you feel about being on retainer to Palladium? We might have other jobs like this.’

‘I slept with your lover and you’re offering me a job?’

Fox frowned, closing her eyes. ‘I’m not handling this especially well right now. I’ll get my head straight. I have to get it straight. Focusing on work seems like a good idea right now, so that’s what I’m doing. Want the job?’

‘Certainly. She’s supposed to be going out to do a shoot for Lucille Graves on the nineteenth. The whole week.’

‘I doubt he’ll follow her there, but we’ll handle transport and accommodation for both of you. You should probably decide whether that’s going to be one room or two.’

‘Fox, I–’

‘Nuh-huh. Just don’t say anything. You’re my friend. That makes this worse, but also… I don’t want to lose that over a stupid sex meme and I don’t know whether me and her was going to work anyway. We’re both more inclined to male partners. I think.’ Fox shook her head. ‘I don’t know and I can’t afford to worry about that right now. You’re with Marie. I’m going to hunt down this bastard and feed him his balls.’ She turned, marching to the door and out. She needed air, and she doubted there was any of that anywhere in the city.

~~~

Fox sat in the dark, on her sofa, with a glass of wine. Kit was staying silent, but Fox knew her assistant would say something to try to break her out of it sooner or later. She decided to do the breaking first.

‘Kit, have we got anywhere with the list of people who could have changed data on the LifeWeb servers?’

Kit appeared, quite visible despite the darkness of the room, and sat her virtual self down on the sofa beside Fox. ‘Are we still going to look into that? It seems clear that the application is the source of the erroneous data.’

‘Agreed, but I can’t do anything about that yet, and I like to cover all the avenues properly, just in case.’

‘There are nineteen people with the right kind of access on Mister Martins’ list. Of those, ten are stationed in other countries.’

‘Do they have offices in Berlin and Cape Town?’

‘Yes, and two of the people on the list are there, but both are residents and have not spent time in America. Two more can be ruled out since they operate the LifeWeb servers on Mars and the Moon. That leaves seven others who are based in America. One is in Detroit, handling the off-world connectivity system, and one is in Boston.’

‘I guess we can’t entirely rule out the Boston and Detroit ones. They could be coming here to do their killing. But we’ll focus on the ones in New York for now.’

‘Five people. One woman, which we can certainly put into the low-probability category. One was hired within the last eighteen months and so is unlikely.’

Fox frowned. ‘Your tone suggests that the other three don’t fit either.’

‘They are all extensive users of LifeWeb. Their history is essentially there for anyone to see. None of them have spent extensive periods in Berlin and Cape Town.’

‘So we’re back to the app unless there’s someone else with access to the servers but who doesn’t have access to the security system. Jackson wouldn’t know about those.’

‘We would need to get that information from LifeWeb. I suspect they would be reluctant to give it to us.’

Fox nodded. ‘Send a message to Cant and see if he can get it.’

‘Of course. Fox, I’m here if you want to talk.’

‘Huh.’ Fox sipped her wine. ‘I’m not really sure what I have to say.’

‘Coming on top of your mother’s infidelity, this has to be a shock.’

‘Yes. I hadn’t thought… You’re right, I guess. That’s going to add to it. It’s different though. Mom and Dad are married. They pledged themselves to each other, forsaking all others and all that crap. I’m not sure I’d be as forgiving as Dad, but I can’t hold Marie to the same standard and Sam’s not the type to do this under normal circumstances. I don’t think either of them went out to that place intending to betray me.’

‘But you feel they did?’

‘I feel… I don’t know what I feel. I don’t quite know why I seduced Marie in the first place. I’ve taken women to bed before, but they were all one-night stands, spur of the moment things. Suddenly I feel like… like settling down with a girl. That’s not really me either. And I’m fairly sure Marie went for it because it was a novelty.’

‘I think the fact that you are very attractive and a skilled lover might have had something to do with it,’ Kit replied, smiling. ‘I have a further theory, if you would like to hear it?’

‘Sure, why not?’

‘Mister Sandoval.’

Fox’s slight frown turned into a scowl. ‘What about him?’

‘He also betrayed you, in a far more insidious and invasive manner. He drugged you into wanting sex with him. Essentially he raped you, twice.’

‘You’re suggesting I went with Marie because I didn’t want to be with a man? I’ve been in Alexandria several times since Sandoval–’

‘A virtual environment where you are not being penetrated by these men. Even there you have avoided blondes. Not one of your partners there has had blonde hair. Most have had very black hair. Given your preference for blonde men, I find this significant.’

Fox considered the statement for a second. ‘Well, damn. I thought I’d just… pushed that aside. No problem. Just one of those things.’

‘You are quite resilient, Fox, but I don’t think you are quite that resilient.’

‘Apparently not. I’m going to have to go fuck a blonde guy now. Has to be done.’

Kit raised an eyebrow. ‘You are attempting to alleviate your discomfort with humour.’

‘Damn right.’ Fox sank the rest of her wine. ‘I’m going to bed. Could you get Belle to send me up a mild tranq? I doubt I’ll sleep otherwise. With a bit of luck, tomorrow we’ll have some results from Marie’s implant and I can concentrate on that.’

Kit gave a nod, her lips curling into a grin. ‘Should I begin compiling a list of potential blonde partners for you?’

Fox got to her feet. ‘Yeah, line them up outside the bedroom. I’ll hold auditions.’

7th July.

‘We got nothing?’ Fox asked, not really believing it, but that was what Jackson seemed to be saying.

‘No, we got a lot of positive negatives,’ Jackson replied.

‘Poppa,’ Terri said, ‘even I think that sounds overly obtuse.’

‘Travis?’ Jackson said, indicating the man standing nearby looking pensive.

Travis was a computer nerd who Jackson seemed to entrust with a lot of work, which indicated to Fox that he was exceptionally confident in the man. If sheer geekiness was anything to go by, Travis had skill in spades. Short dark hair, slightly watery grey eyes, a long nose which begged for a pair of thick glasses, and a very slim build entirely lacking in muscle tone. He appeared to habitually wear a lab coat, and today it was over the top of a grey skinsuit which did absolutely nothing for him. You wondered on seeing him whether he had ever had a girlfriend.

‘We found nothing in Miss Shaftsbury’s email and direct messages. With the findings of the NAPA technicians, we can rule out viral infection, Trojans, and worms. We have managed, with some effort, to regain administrative control of Miss Shaftsbury’s implant. The LWOS system had managed to place itself in a position of being the sole administrative authority, which should be impossible. We managed to transfer the entire program out to an isolated test rig and we are still working on attempting to gain active control of the software. Miss Shaftsbury is safe from it, however.’

‘I gave Marie one of our latest VA programs,’ Terri put in. ‘She never wants to see LWOS ever again. I don’t think she even wants to download the LifeWear interface app at this point, but half her life is in there. I suggested, if she’s still reluctant, that she has Belle transfer the data she needs into her VA databases.’

‘Can’t say I blame her,’ Fox replied. ‘Mister Travis, to me it sounds like you’ve ruled out most of the potential ways her LWOS program could be compromised.’

‘Uh, just Travis, Miss Meridian. Everyone just calls me Travis. What we have not ruled out is a bug in the software or a direct hack. Given that this seems to be a specific attempt to attack Miss Shaftsbury, and the other victims, of course, a bug would not seem to meet the criteria.’

‘A vulnerability, however,’ Jackson said, ‘is another matter. More than that, in fact, given the way the software behaved. Someone has hacked Marie’s LWOS and caused it to, essentially, assume complete control of her implant. It could have done almost anything.’

‘Like masking her attacker from her vision field?’ Fox asked.

‘Not entirely impossible. Removing them entirely is unlikely, but presenting an image which does not appear threatening could be done.’

Fox pursed her lips. ‘It’s quite possible that he knew he’d been made as soon as I stopped Marie. Kit, were all the victims LWOS users with implants?’

‘All but one,’ Kit replied. ‘Patricia Randall had an inherited condition, a form of Cyber-Rejection Syndrome. She was unable to use an implant, but she was a heavy user of wearable computers.’

‘I can’t help but think that there’s a reason she was the first victim. Something about her or August.’

‘Mister August was on the board of LifeWeb at one time,’ Kit stated. ‘Perhaps there is a connection there.’

‘He was a non-executive board member,’ Jackson said. ‘I recall he resigned not long after the death of his granddaughter. It’s possible that someone was attempting to force that, but it seems a rather indirect route.’

‘Certainly does,’ Fox agreed, ‘but it’s interesting. Kit, get me another interview with August. If nothing else, he may be willing to provide some insight into the company.’

~~~

‘I’ve heard about the latest death, of course,’ August said as Fox settled into a seat in his office.

‘Yes,’ Fox said. ‘Our guy is back in New York and we’ve isolated part of his operating method. He hacks into the LWOS system on his victims’ implants. MarTech is working on trying to find out how. The killer went after a friend of mine. I happened to be out with her and that stopped him. And we got the hacked software to examine.’

‘A lucky break. LWOS, you say? Patricia did not use it, but she used LifeWear. I assume you know that I was on the board of LifeWeb?’

‘I did. It’s my main reason for coming to see you. What can you tell me about them?’

August sat back in his large chair. ‘A company bogged down by the vision of one man. Oh, they have a successful marketing policy. Like a number of companies before them, they had their users hooked on buying the latest LifeWear product as soon as it came out. There are a few advantages given the nature of implants and wearables. The LifeWear AI is more capable than the LWOS one, having a larger computer to execute on. However, R. A. Grant preferred to hobble LWOS in favour of wearable technology. He suffers from a similar problem to me. His body rejects implanted technologies more than most and he formed a prejudice against them.’

‘I understand he retired recently.’

‘He was being pushed into a position where he could do less damage to the future of the company prior to that. The official line was that he was moving to more of an advisory role. There was some worry over his removal and the stock prices. Personally, I felt he could not go fast enough, but Dandridge had something of an outdated sense of loyalty. Grant was not just hobbling LWOS: he was hobbling the company.’

‘When was this?’

‘Spring of fifty-six. I resigned the following January to concentrate on… other projects. I’m afraid that I cannot be much help with current developments in LifeWeb. Frankly, I lost all interest in everything except security and finding Patricia’s killer. You believe there may be a connection?’

‘I believe that there’s a reason that your granddaughter was selected as the first victim, and I believe that LifeWeb’s software has some form of vulnerability which allows the killer to assume control of LWOS. An insider might know that and you were on the board. You possibly know the killer, Mister August.’

‘If there is a vulnerability in that software, the board knew nothing of it while I was there. However… Look at R. A. Grant. Never liked the man. There was something… dark about him.’

‘Did he like you?’

‘I don’t think R. A. liked anyone, Miss Meridian, except Leonard Dandridge and that is only a possibility.’

~~~

‘Reginald Alan Grant,’ Kit said, ‘age sixty-four, no known relatives, no relationships since a single girlfriend in his twenties.’ Fox was sitting in the virtual murder room since Kit had already compiled a fair amount of information there regarding their current subject and was just adding to it now.

‘No personal relationships for forty years?’

‘Unless you count his personal assistant. Her name is Hannah. He apparently designed and wrote her software himself and had a custom, fully functional gynoid body constructed for her. There have been a number of rumours suggesting that his relationship with her is distinctly personal, but Mister Grant is a very private man. No one has ever encountered anything suggesting a physical relationship. Or no one has done so and told about it.’

Fox examined the images of the synthetically happy couple. Kit had a head and shoulders shot of Grant taken from a company web page, and there was an image of them together, taken by someone at a function. He looked fit, despite his age. Not a magnificent figure by any means, but well-proportioned with light muscle which looked natural. He was attractive, but not overly so. His short hair was black with a hint of grey at the temples. Someone had done a little rejuvenation work on him at some point. His face was aged, but not to the extent of sixty-four years of life. There was something about the blue eyes she did not like, but in a publicity shot it was hard to tell.

‘Yeah,’ Fox said, ‘that is a frame built for sex. If he’s not bumping hips with his gynoid, there’s something wrong with him or he prefers men, I guess, but then he’d have a male model.’

Hannah had the straight-faced look of a bored supermodel. Her skin was tanned, and long black hair fell to her very large breasts. Her waist was thinner than nature generally provided and her legs were long. She was beautiful, but it was all a little artificial. Her eyes were a little bigger than they should have been, and her wide mouth had deeply curved, deep red, pouting lips.

‘But probably a class three,’ Kit said. ‘She has the same flat expression in every picture I could find of her. Of course, Mister Grant’s range of expression seems somewhat limited if you take it from his public appearances, which are few. He is a technical genius of some renown, but unlike Mister Martins, he never appears to publicise LifeWeb’s products.’

‘Charities? Interests?’

‘He is not known to patronise any charities, though he is, as I said, a very private man and may make donations secretly. His only known interests are computers and sociology.’

‘Married to his job. Loves his work. And then they took it away from him. I bet he didn’t plan to retire this soon, if ever.’

‘He appears to have gone quietly,’ Kit replied. ‘There have been no indications that he wished to stay on. Not even rumours of displeasure.’

‘Yes, but he’s a very private man. Private men brood rather than shouting from the rooftops. Has Cant had any luck getting anything out of LifeWeb?’

‘If he has, he has not reported it to us.’

‘Okay, get me an appointment to see Captain Deveraux. Maybe some international pressure will make them wake up.’

~~~

‘How is our favourite redhead?’ Fox asked. She watched Sam standing there, fully dressed even at home and avoiding her eyes.

‘Worried. Scared. She’s sleeping in my bed tonight. I’ve got the couch.’

‘Well, that’s kind of stupid.’ His eyes flicked up and then down again and Fox sighed. ‘Look, either you’ll have sex again or not. I kind of doubt it because the pair of you are acting like guilty schoolkids. But if you’re worried about it, then it means you’re still interested and she’d have to be braindead not to be interested in you. She was before I started with her.’

‘But you did start with her. I wasn’t… No, I found her interesting, but I don’t…’

‘Get the urge for recreational copulation.’

Sam actually looked pensive. ‘I wouldn’t put it that way, perhaps, but yes.’

‘Now you’re thinking that may have been an unwise policy? For fuck’s sake, sit down. You’re making me tired just looking at you.’

Settling onto the sofa gave him some time to consider his answer, and she knew he was taking it. ‘It wasn’t a policy,’ Sam said. ‘It was an inclination. One I very nearly ignored on a number of occasions with you. The subliminals in the club pushed me over the edge, but I admit that I am not sorry for having sex with Marie and I would not mind doing it again. I am sorry it happened the way it did. I did not want to hurt you, Fox.’

‘We’d have broken up. Neither of us were in this for the long haul. I talked it out with Kit and she had an interesting theory about why I suddenly fell for a girl. I was Marie’s first girl, but I think she’d have figured out that it was just a phase. Experimenting.’

‘You don’t think you should ask her whether that’s how she feels?’

‘I will. I wanted to know whether you wanted to continue with her before I did.’

‘I don’t think it’s my decision to–’

Fox held up a hand. ‘I can get over this. It’ll be easier if she has someone to turn to, but you need to talk it over with her if you’re going to get serious.’

‘Talk it over?’

‘You’re a pro, Sam. She knows it, but I doubt she’s thought about it. Certainly not what it means in a relationship.’

Frowning, Sam nodded. ‘In truth, I’ve never thought about it either. I’ve not had a personal relationship in… Since I moved to New York anyway.’

It was Fox’s turn to frown. ‘Fuck, Sam. Even if it doesn’t work out with Marie, you need a hobby.’

8th July.

‘Captain Deveraux is a blonde,’ Kit said as Fox rode the elevator up the New York Tower.

‘Yes, he is,’ Fox agreed.

‘And attractive. Fit. Firmly muscled. Very masculine with just a hint of femininity about his features. A rather sensuous mouth, I think.’

‘Maybe you should date him.’

‘I was more thinking of you, and dating is not required, just… ah yes, the phrase was wildass sex.’

‘You know, this is taking the term personal assistant to a whole new level.’

‘I offer a full-service, um, service. That sounded better before I said it.’

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Deveraux was standing there, waiting for her, a smile on his sensuous lips. ‘We must stop meeting like this,’ he said.

‘French accent,’ Kit said, humour in her voice. ‘Good sense of humour…’

Fox felt like she was tensing her jaw as she thought, ‘Cut it out, Kit,’ at her PA. Aloud she said, ‘Captain, you didn’t have to come and meet me.’

‘You always bring me such interesting things, and I was not busy,’ Deveraux replied. He waved her along with him, turning to walk to his office.

‘This is the same case. We just have some new information which we were hoping you could help us with.’

‘Come into my office and tell me all about it. Coffee?’

‘Sure.’

He pushed his office door open and ushered her in ahead of him, followed and closed the door behind him, and then walked over to a coffee machine set on a cabinet at one side of the room. ‘Of course, the other reason for meeting you is that you are a very attractive woman, and I take enjoyment in any small pleasure I can find. Life is too short to waste any opportunity for pleasure.’

‘See?’ Kit said. ‘He fancies you. Audition him while the door is closed.’

Fox felt her cheeks heating as she sat down and hoped he would think it was from the compliment. In truth, it partially was. ‘I bet you say that to all the girls,’ she said.

Deveraux turned, placing a mug down in front of her. ‘Only the ones I find attractive. Now, what is it that you have uncovered this time, Fox?’

Kit started doing her job, instead of playing matchmaker, and laid out the evidence they had collected on a probable flaw in the LifeWeb program. Deveraux listened to the whole thing, nodding occasionally, but asking no questions until Kit was finished.

‘You have not entirely ruled out a server-side hack?’ he asked when Kit was done.

‘No,’ Fox replied, ‘but to do that we need to know whether anyone else has the necessary administrative access. Jackson Martins is fairly sure it would need to be done via a legitimate route to remain undetected for so long. LifeWeb are being obstructive.’

‘And you think some pressure from us might change that?’

‘I think if we apply pressure based on the crimes occurring in multiple countries, they’ll be more inclined to respond, and two voices asking for the information is louder than one.’

Deveraux tapped an index finger on his desk, his expression thoughtful. ‘I think it is worth a try. I will make arrangements. I think a meeting with Leonard Dandridge… Can you be available for that?’

‘You want me to go in with you?’

‘Three voices are better than two. I will make a formal request to Palladium to investigate a potential problem with the LifeWeb software as well. If I engage your company as part of the international investigation into these murders, it will put it on an official level. The matter will need to be handled in confidence, of course. We cannot have rumours of this getting out.’

Fox smiled. ‘That we can handle. Thank you, Jason. Let me know when you’re going to LifeWeb and I’ll be at your disposal.’

‘Day or night,’ Kit said into Fox’s head. ‘Preferably night, in a bedroom.’

Fox felt her cheeks heating again and the very slightly lascivious twist to Deveraux’s smile was not helping. Apparently, he thought commenting on her choice of words was pushing the bounds too far. ‘I will inform Kit as soon as I have a time,’ he said. ‘It is likely to be next week, however. Aside from anything else, this weekend is predicted to be stormy, possibly bad enough to disrupt travel.’

‘It’s been feeling like there was something coming all week,’ Fox replied. ‘I guess we’re due something and there’s always the chance it might break the heat a little.’

‘If there is one thing I have learned since coming to New York, Fox, it is that nothing seems to break the summer heat.’

9th July.

It was the first time Fox had really got a chance to use her office. Right now, it was an office which appeared to be about twice its normal size and holding a conference room table with the Palladium board sitting around it.

Vaughn was briefing them on preparations for the weekend, from the safety of Chicago. ‘We are expecting the storm, tropical storm Chris, to reach New York around six p.m. today. It is currently seeing a maximum wind speed of sixty knots with heavy rain and the probability of a small but significant storm surge.’

‘So keep your waders handy, Fox,’ Jarvis said.

Fox gave a shrug. ‘The barrier is complete enough to hold that kind of thing back. Going out won’t be much fun though.’

‘Probably not,’ Vaughn agreed. ‘Your building management system can monitor outside conditions and it can provide some predictions on when things will be safe. Exactly the same software is used in the arcologies where meteorology is a more important factor.’

‘I assume the towers will be locking down?’

‘All our New York facilities will be on storm status from midday. Full lockdown will go into effect when the city shuts down the maglev, which we expect to happen no later than seven p.m.’

‘They’ve already issued an alert and called for people to be in secure locations by five. Unless something comes up, I plan to be home all weekend. Clean-up always seems to take longer than they expect.’

‘This, of course, is why you should have moved to Chicago,’ Eaves said, though he was grinning. ‘We only get the very occasional tornado.’

‘Oh yeah, much better. We haven’t had a hurricane make landfall since I moved here. I think this might be the worst storm I’ve seen.’

‘The recent seasons have been fairly light,’ Vaughn agreed. ‘This one may change that trend, however. We’re instituting a full check of all eastern seaboard facilities over the next week. You’re okay there since we just did the refit.’

‘Good to know we’re state of the art. I assume the basement is sealed?’

‘Once Belle initiates the lockdown on the doors, that building is secure against NBC, flooding, riot, alien attack, and plagues of zombies.’

‘We put down the zombie plague last year and we haven’t had aliens in more than a decade, Alice.’

‘Yeah, but this is New York. I’ve seen the vids. No one ever invades Chicago.’

‘God, haven’t you ever heard of tempting fate, Alice,’ Jarvis said in a moan.

Vaughn gave a shrug. ‘I’ve done the analysis. Plague, yes, zombie plague or alien invasion, no.’

Fox peered across the table at the redhead in the pastel pink, frilled blouse. ‘You did an analysis on the probability of zombie plague in Chicago?’

Another shrug. ‘Something to do on a rainy Friday afternoon.’

~~~

Fox went over Kit’s network of connections on a rainy Friday afternoon. The storm proper had not arrived yet, still being on track for eighteen hundred, but the sky had darkened and there was light rain falling already. Fox had been through messages from Detective Rogers in Topeka on the progression of his investigations. Malcolm Bateson was well on his way to a windowless box and there were a number of negotiations going on regarding the Watch. Fox’s parents were in the forefront of those, pushing an even more strict policy than the Runyards. NAPA had already agreed to run background checks on all current members and future applicants. And there was an investigation ongoing into several financial irregularities. It seemed that Druss had been skimming money out of the Watch accounts, some of it for the purchase of illegal weapons, but not all of it. NAPA technicians were looking into undeclared income and bribery charges.

‘Captain Deveraux has arranged a meeting with Leonard Dandridge,’ Kit informed Fox. ‘Monday at ten hundred. He suggests that you meet him at New York Tower at zero nine thirty.’

‘Reply in the affirmative, if you would. You have a link in showing that Grant met Patricia Randall.’

‘Yes, Fox. They were definitely at the same company functions more than once and Mister Grant visited the family at home.’

‘No linkages to any of the other victims, though.’

‘None that I have been able to uncover. The links between all our victims are several levels removed. None of them knew each other, but they had friends, or friends of friends, in common. The only real connection between them is LifeFit.’

‘So if Grant turned out to be the killer, which is by no means certain, we’re still thinking he picks his victims at random, through LifeFit.’

‘Whoever the killer is, that is the case.’

‘Huh. What about the camera footage from the park on the day Marie was targeted?’

‘I was unable to identify anyone in those files who appears in our persons of interest list. The park’s coverage is far from perfect, however. I would imagine the killer knows where the cameras are and arranges to avoid them, or wears clothing which obscures their face.’

‘A hood or something in summer is going to look odd. Anyone like that in the feeds?’

‘I will run a search. However, something like a visor makes identification difficult, and between wearables and anti-glare visors, there will be a number of those.’

‘See what you can find anyway. I’m going to stare at this map until my eyes turn inside out. Maybe there’s something in here we aren’t seeing.’

‘This is because you can find nothing else to do, I assume.’

‘Pretty much. I’m an investigator. You’re handling the bulk data and Travis is on the software from Marie’s implant. On Monday, I’ll have something else to investigate. Until then, it’s backtracking and reviewing.’

~~~

‘Fox? You in here?’ Marie edged just her head into the lounge in Fox’s apartment. Her heart was somewhere in her throat, but Sam had said it would almost certainly be a good idea to talk to Fox rather than, as Marie realised she had been doing, hiding.

Fox was there, on the sofa, right in front of Marie, but her eyes were closed and they flickered open, unfocused for a second as Fox reasserted what was real. ‘Hey. You been hiding from me?’

Marie stepped into the room. ‘No. Maybe. Yes.’

‘Got all the bases covered there. Sit down. We need to talk.’ Marie edged in, settling onto the corner of the sofa and sitting there with her hands clasped. ‘And stop looking so nervous. I’m not going to bite. I think we’re past that.’

‘Oh.’

‘You expected me to just jump back into bed with you?’

‘Well, no. I guess not, but–’

‘I think, maybe, that you should consider this as a good thing.’ Fox said it quickly so that she did not falter.

‘A good thing?’

‘I think… that I was an experiment for you. Um, that sounds a little clinical, but you know what I mean. I was your first girl and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.’

‘It was… Yeah, I enjoyed everything.’

Fox could see the tears forming. Fair enough, she was holding them back herself. ‘Kit thinks I was more affected by what Sandoval did to me than I thought. I picked up with you because I didn’t want anything to do with men.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah. I think we’d have had fun, but eventually we’d have realised we were both… doing something different for a while. So… so I think you should give Sam a spin. To be honest, I think he needs to try someone who isn’t paying him for it, but that does bring up a problem you need to discuss with him.’

Marie’s hands were shifting, twisting her fingers, and clenching and unclenching. ‘I can’t take this all in.’

‘Think about it. If you want to talk more, we can, no problem, but think about it.’

‘Okay. Not like I’m going out running.’

‘Or anywhere else for a while. It’s getting nasty outside. Good time to be curled up with a glass of wine, if you ask me.’

~~~

‘Fox, you should stop.’ Kit was using her concerned voice. They were back in the murder room and had been for five solid hours. ‘I don’t get tired, but you do. You have been staring at the same document page for five minutes.’

Annoyance buzzed in Fox’s brain for a second before she realised that Kit was right: she had been staring at the same page for a long time, and it was not because she was concentrating. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Okay, I should take a break.’

‘Sam has opened a bottle of wine and wishes to know whether you would like to take the same advice you gave Marie.’

Fox opened her eyes, seeing her lounge and Kit standing in the exact same relative position. ‘I assume Marie’s with him. I mean, she damn well better be.’

‘She is.’

‘Let’s go make merry then.’

Sam and Marie were sitting in Sam’s lounge, not very close together, each holding a glass. Another glass was waiting since Fox had made sure Belle told them she was coming down. There was a vid playing on the wall, some sort of comedy, but the sound was down to a minimum and Fox was not exactly sure why it was on.

‘It’s getting really bad out there,’ Marie said. ‘Time to huddle up with a glass of wine.’

‘Yeah.’ Fox took her wine glass and settled onto the sofa, between them since that was where the space was. ‘You know, you have one of the best collections of porn I know of, and you’re watching some crappy comedy with the sound off.’

‘I didn’t think porn was particularly appropriate,’ Sam replied.

‘I’ve seen some of your porn. It’s… instructive.’

‘Ha! I thought we might talk. It’s a dark and stormy night. I was going to discuss things with Marie and I thought you should be here to provide a balanced viewpoint.’

‘Balanced? How am I going to be balanced?’

‘Because I’ll probably be excessively negative and you’ll feel obliged to provide an alternative.’ Sam’s grin was a little forced.

‘You know,’ Marie began, ‘I don’t know if–’

‘Want to try things out with Sam?’ Fox asked.

‘I… yes.’

‘Well, he needs to work.’

‘Which means,’ Sam said, ‘that you’re going to have to face the fact that I’ll be sleeping with other men and women, and then coming back here to you. I’ll be away for days at a time, with other people, and then come back to you.’

‘On the plus side,’ Fox said, ‘when he does, he’ll make your toes curl. The sex is going to be incredible.’

‘But while I’m doing those incredible things to you, you’ll be thinking that I was doing the same incredible things to a rich, sixty-year-old two hours earlier, who’s had millions of dollars of bodysculpting and rejuvenation therapy done to her.’

‘But you still get incredible sex,’ Fox asserted.

‘And there’s the bodyguard work,’ Sam went on, frowning a little. ‘I might have to spend several days, maybe weeks, away from home. My life would be in danger and you’d be here, worrying about me.’

‘Did I mention the sex?’ Fox asked.

Sam’s frown deepened. ‘I am getting the feeling that I am a sex object.’

‘It is kind of a dumb conversation,’ Marie said. ‘I mean, I doubt I’m going to know how I’ll feel until I’m facing it. Discussing it isn’t going to help.’

‘Probably true,’ Fox said, ‘but you should at least know what you’re getting into.’

‘True, but there’s the other side of it. I mean to do acting, like stage would be nice, but I’ll end up on the IB channels. Bound to end up on those. But there are also sensies. I don’t know about those, but I may end up in them and you can’t fake a sex scene in a sensie.’

‘How the Hell do they make those anyway?’ Fox asked. ‘I mean, traditional porn is multiple takes and cuts, and a lot of angle changes, and… if you’re recording some guy’s sensory inputs while he’s banging away–’

‘Editing,’ Sam said. ‘Editing sensie porn is an incredibly skilled job. Editors get paid more than some of the stars. However, you’re right, and I suppose I won’t know how I feel about that until I have to deal with it. I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to take it badly, but emotions are strange things.’

‘Yeah,’ Marie agreed. ‘So we give it a go and if we can’t handle it, or I can’t handle it, then we each go our separate ways.’

‘After a lot of really great sex,’ Fox put in.

Sam laughed, and Marie giggled. ‘Yeah, that,’ Marie said. ‘Let’s get smashed and not worry about it for now.’

‘A simple solution to a complex emotional issue,’ Sam said. ‘I can get behind that.’

Fox grinned. ‘I’m not going anywhere tomorrow. Who’s got the wine bottle?’

10th July.

‘Are you really so sanguine about breaking up with Marie?’ Kit asked.

Fox had just struggled up the stairs and was contemplating whether to just fall asleep fully dressed or risk breaking her neck while taking her bodysuit off. ‘No, why do you think I drank way too much alcohol tonight?’

‘Then–’

‘Because there’s no use crying over spilled milk and there’s plenty more fish in the sea.’

‘I’ll attempt to decipher that statement later.’

Fox sat down on her bed and then shimmied out of her clothes. Balance was not an issue, but it still seemed to take longer than it should. ‘Maybe I will see if Jason wants to stay in for a drink.’

‘Isn’t it “go out for a drink?”’

‘I was thinking of having the drinks in bed.’ Collapsing backward, Fox lay there wondering whether she had the energy to get under the covers. ‘I’m going to black out now. Goodnight, Kit.’

‘Goodnight, Fox,’ Kit said, but Fox had already done as she had indicated she would.

11th July.

The storm had blown itself out before dawn, but the sky had remained dark for much of Saturday with a warm, muggy air mass sitting over the city to plague the recovery efforts. There had been no flooding. The primary defences had held up meaning that the secondary ones, formed from the defunct subway and road tunnel system, had not been needed. However, there had been a couple of problems with signs being blown down and impacting building frontages, and there was the general debris of a storm to clear away. City administration expected it to be clear before Monday.

Sunday had dawned bright and clear, the storm clouds swept aside with the promise of another scorching July day. Fox had felt the need for fresh air and no need to go anywhere to get it. Donning both parts of the blue bikini she had bought for her dust-girl disguise, she trooped up to the roof, laid a towel down, and laid herself out to catch a little sun before it got too hot.

‘The air is clearer,’ Kit said.

‘Often is after a storm,’ Fox replied, not opening her eyes. ‘Belle telling you that? Or are you patching into my nose?’

‘The house has air-quality monitors with the meteorology sensors. The particulate level has dropped by nought point five per cent.’

‘Nice to know.’

‘For the man responsible for LifeWeb, Mister R. A. Grant has little in his profile. He does not appear to share very much with anyone.’

‘So you can’t find anything on his reaction to being pushed out of the company, or what he’s been doing the last couple of years?’

‘No, nothing. His profile reads more like corporate publicity than a candid view of his life. Mister Dandridge is more open, but he clearly self-censors what he posts there. His daughter is a far more frequent poster. She uses LifeFit quite extensively and has a LifeMeet entry. Something of a social butterfly.’

‘We might be able to use that as leverage on Dandridge. A father should be interested in the safety of his daughter.’

‘One would hope so.’

There was the sound of a door opening and closing, and Fox opened her eyes, tilting her head back to look. She got an upside down image of Marie, topless and carrying a towel. ‘Morning,’ Fox said.

‘Morning,’ Marie replied, ‘and a nice one. You had the same idea as me.’

‘I wanted to relax in some fresh air. You wanted the sun, from the looks of it.’

‘Uh-huh. Top up that healthy glow.’

‘I’m wearing sunscreen. I just like the warmth.’

Marie grinned. That she felt at ease enough to do so was pleasing. ‘Up here, I can do it topless.’

‘Up here, you could probably do it naked. Considering the size of what you’re wearing, you more or less are.’

‘You’re one to talk. Is that thing the right size?’

‘No. I bought it for a sort of disguise and the look works best with a bra a size or so too small.’ Fox closed her eyes again, settling herself back down.

Marie giggled as she laid herself out in the sun. ‘Makes your boobs look bigger. Old glamour model trick.’

‘You are sounding really perky. Sam woke you up with a smile?’ Fox did not need to see to know Marie was blushing.

‘We… Well, yes.’

‘It is the sort of thing couples are supposed to do.’

‘It is. We did.’ There was silence for a few seconds, probably while Marie’s cheeks cooled down. ‘You know… Maybe when the dust has settled a bit and we see where things are going, maybe we should try a threesome.’

Fox’s eyes snapped open and she let out a sputter of something incoherent before managing, ‘Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?’

‘It’s just a thought. We all live together. Alcohol and a porn vid, and see where the mood takes us.’

‘I’m sure you were a sweet, innocent thing when we met.’

‘Oh yes. You and Sam have corrupted me horribly. My sainted mother is turning in her grave.’

Fox closed her eyes, a grin forming. ‘Pull the other one, it’s got bells on.’

12th July.

‘Yum,’ Kit said as Deveraux stepped out of the elevator at the entrance level of New York Tower.

‘Yum?’ Fox replied.

‘Well, look at him. He’s… yummy.’

‘Okay, Kit, I’m convinced. I’ll make a play and see if he goes for it. Didn’t I wear a short skirt today? You can stop trying.’ The pinstripe skirt suit did indeed have a skirt which was short of mid-thigh, and Fox had decided to wear it without a blouse and with a bra which had a little uplift. Her heels were not too high, which gave a slightly more conservative look, but she had added grey, mesh stockings, making sure the tops did not show. She had told herself she was just trying to look her best for the meeting with Dandridge, but it had occurred that she had never bothered much with that previously.

Deveraux spotted Fox, smiled, and started across the concourse toward her. He did look yummy in a double-breasted suit made of a dark material with a sheen to it. Summer in New York and he was in a waistcoat. His straw-coloured hair was loose around his shoulders, and his blue eyes sparkled. Fox found herself wondering what those lips would feel like kissing her neck.

‘You are looking good this morning, Fox,’ he said as soon as he was close enough.

Fox lifted her arms and looked down at her outfit. ‘Thanks. I thought it looked professional enough.’

His smile took on a playful quality. ‘It does, but I was not referring to your clothes. Shall we grab a coffee and discuss tactics?’

‘He so wants into your panties,’ Kit commented.

‘You’re just getting back at me for teasing you about Vali.’ Aloud, Fox said, ‘Sounds like a plan.’

There were various small shops around the level, one of them a coffee shop which Deveraux assured Fox sold perfectly agreeable coffee and very good pastries, should one feel inclined. Fox decided that there was not time for pastries, but the coffee was not bad.

‘We need them to open up about the servers,’ Fox said as she sat across a small table from him. ‘If they’d take the possibility of a vulnerability in the LifeWeb software seriously, that’d be good too. And I’d like as much information as I can get on Reginald Grant.’

‘They will likely be reluctant on all counts. Rumours of a vulnerability might be enough to cause a stock drop and they will cite personal privacy laws concerning the servers. Laughable, I know. Their users publish almost everything about themselves without a single worry.’

‘Well, one of them isn’t. Marie was going through the entire thing with Belle, that’s my house AI, protecting things from anyone she doesn’t consider a close friend. She’s definitely gone off LifeWeb.’

‘This is a concern, yes? A rush to leave the system by a large number of users could kill the company, and they would be looking for people to blame.’

‘Oh, I know, but I’d rather not have people dying for their stock option values. Besides, the killer seems to have decided to target me. Not as a victim, but he’s rubbing my nose in what he can do. Maybe not me, specifically, but Palladium. “You think you’re clever, well I’m better.”’

Deveraux nodded. ‘I did some digging into Mister Grant. Following his board’s decision to move him off mainline development, he spent some time abroad.’

‘Cape Town and Berlin?’

‘Yes, and the dates match well enough, but then I suspect the same might be said for a number of people. Why do you believe he is involved?’

‘Technical knowledge. He created that software. His fingers are all over it. He would know if there was a problem with it, I think. From what I’ve gathered about him, he fits the profile. Now there’s the location data to give him opportunity. Harper August didn’t like him and helped slide him out, and August’s granddaughter was the first victim. That we know of anyway.’

‘We will need more than that.’

‘I know. If it’s him and we can get enough to search his home, we’ll find everything we need.’

‘How can you be so sure? Your killer is meticulous in eliminating forensic evidence, reducing risk. Would he keep souvenirs or leave other evidence there?’

‘This guy tortures his victims for days, Jason. Somewhere he has a place he can do that, probably with a lot of gear and very good soundproofing. It pretty much has to be at home. He won’t want his plaything far from him.’

‘You are good at this. I understood you were, but it is more interesting to see you at work. We should go, I think. Being late will not endear us to our subject.’

They took the maglev, the BQ-line past JFK and then changing onto the LI-line for the final leg. They had just changed over when Deveraux frowned. ‘A call I should take, excuse me.’

Fox nodded. They would be arriving at the LifeWeb building soon, but the angle made seeing it difficult. She had never paid much attention to it: just one of a number of corporate or residential arcologies that the maglev line passed through. She recalled seeing the older buildings at its base and wondering what they were. Why had Grant decided to preserve his old alma mater? Nostalgia did not seem to fit the profile, or the man’s personality.

Deveraux’s face cleared and he glanced out of the window to check their location. He was smiling. ‘My mother checking up on me,’ he said. ‘She worries that I do not eat properly.’ His accent was a little thicker after the conversation. Fox imagined he had been speaking French.

‘You’re close with your family?’

‘Yes. I visit them, in Toronto, whenever I can. I see my sister a little less. She is with the FPR in Montreal.’

‘Force de police républicaine. I hope I pronounced that okay. I can do Spanish, but not French. Not much call for French in Topeka.’

‘Your pronunciation was excellent, mademoiselle. Yes, Gabrielle is a computer specialist. I do not understand half of what she does except in the general. I was with the FPR myself for many years before the UNTPP was formed and I was put forward for it.’

‘You were in at the start, like me?’

‘Based in the Montreal office. You travelled more widely, I believe?’

‘Oh yeah. Me and my team went anywhere they needed us.’

‘Not easy to hold onto family ties in a life like that.’

‘Wasn’t a problem. We parted on somewhat acrimonious terms, but we made up recently. I guess I’ll be seeing more of them now, but I’ve had a decade to decide I can manage without so it’ll probably take a little time to adjust.’

‘A shame, but I am glad that you are reconciled.’ His eyes flicked to the window again. ‘We are here. Time to go to work.’

They were a couple of minutes early for their appointment and the building’s computer directed them to a mid-level floor where they were met by Dandridge’s assistant who introduced herself as Corrine and took them to an outer office with a huge, solid wood door on the inside which presumably led to Dandridge’s office.

‘Mister Dandridge is running slightly late,’ Corrine told them. ‘He should conclude his teleconference shortly. Can I get you anything?’

They declined, sat down, and waited.

‘She is Corrine Hoffman,’ Kit informed Fox. ‘She has been Mister Dandridge’s assistant for seven years. No rumours of a relationship outside the working one. She has a reputation for efficiency, discretion, and acting as an effective screen for her employer.’

Fox did not reply, but examined Corrine sitting at her desk. The PA was blonde, pretty, probably old enough that some of the looks were from cosmetic work, but it was clearly on a good base. The conservative but attractive business skirt suit suggested the lack of rumours was founded in fact. A secretary having an affair with her boss would wear a shorter skirt, even if she was discreet. Her eyes were unfocused now: she was working rather than observing the two cops waiting to see her boss, which spoke for the efficiency.

‘How hard was it to get this appointment?’ Fox asked quietly.

‘I had to jump through several hoops,’ Deveraux replied. ‘I admit to becoming a little exasperated and I am generally quite patient.’

Okay, so Corrine lived up to her reputation. Dandridge’s image was the LifeWeb messiah, proselytising the benefits of an open, easy-to-use platform for social interactions which could allow the world to meet friends and break down barriers. Pretty much every picture Fox had seen of him had featured a smiling face. Kit had told her he was a shrewd businessman, a skilled politician, and adept at marketing, and he had pushed his friend, the man who had created LifeWeb, out of the company. So which was the real Leonard Dandridge?

After twenty minutes, Fox was starting to wonder whether she would ever find out. Corrine had apologised once and said it would just be a few more minutes, smiling diplomatically while she lied through her teeth. Fox had figured that Dandridge would see the annoying detectives when he was damn well ready to, and she was more or less right.

‘You’re late,’ Dandridge stated when they were finally shown into his office. Fox looked around while Deveraux smiled and made introductions. She was fairly sure that the UNTPP man was having to force the smile and decided she was not even going to try.

The office was plush. Wood panel walls, a drinks cabinet, real wood furniture… Hell, the desk was huge and looked like walnut. One wall was all window showing a view out over the Atlantic. The guest chairs were nowhere near as cushy as the huge, leather chair Dandridge was seated in. And he remained sitting in it, his face fixed into a neutral-to-annoyed expression as his guests sat down. Fox crossed her legs, sat back, and fixed her gaze on the man who was definitely not really the smiling face of LifeWeb.

‘What is it that the UNTPP wants with LifeWeb?’ Leonard Dandridge was an attractive man. Fox knew he was in his sixties, but he looked thirty. His hair was black, not a hint of grey, and he had clear, hazel eyes. There was not a wrinkle on his face and his body suggested sculpting more than effort. His nose was a little long, a little hooked, and Fox figured he would have had something done to that if it were not for corporate image: people knew that face, had done from when LifeWeb was a start-up, and changing it was not an option.

‘We are investigating a string of murders in three countries,’ Deveraux said. ‘America, South Africa, and Germany. You may have seen reports of the last victim, Lauren Mary Coolidge.’

‘I pay little attention to tabloid news,’ Dandridge replied. ‘What does this have to do with LifeWeb?’

‘They were all users. All of them used LifeFit and were kidnapped while running.’

‘I’d imagine that the police found the live LifeFit updates very useful in determining the kidnap sites then.’

‘Evidence has come to light that the “live” data was faked. These people were taken from other locations while LifeFit reported them as being on one of their old runs.’

‘Impossible,’ Dandridge said, dismissing the statement with a wave of his hand.

‘I assure you, Mister Dandridge, that this information is accurate. Indeed, some of the evidence comes from LifeWeb itself. Runners have been pictured in locations which LifeFit would indicate they were nowhere near.’

‘Glitches in the system, I’d imagine. These things happen, infrequently.’

‘Twelve times?’ Fox asked. ‘In precisely the same way, at the right time to cover a kidnapping in each case. Twice is coincidence, Mister Dandridge, twelve times is something else.’

‘And what is MarTech’s interest in this?’ Dandridge asked, his attention shifting to Fox.

‘Palladium Security Solutions,’ Fox corrected. ‘We’ve asked MarTech Technologies to consult on the matter, but Palladium was asked to investigate the case.’

Dandridge’s eyes narrowed. ‘By whom?’

‘You know him. Harper August.’

‘Harper’s granddaughter…’

‘The first victim. There were five more in New York, then two in Cape Town, three in Berlin, and the latest back in New York.’ Fox watched his face, looking for signs that he had connected the locations to Grant, but there was nothing. ‘And there was attempt on another, but we got lucky there. He missed.’ Dandridge seemed to be gathering his thoughts, so she pressed on. ‘There are two theories on the erroneous data. Either someone is changing it on the server, or the killer is hacking the LifeWeb software the victims are using.’

‘Any suggestion of a vulnerability in our software, client or server-side, will be met with a legal response,’ Dandridge snapped.

‘We are very keen to ensure that no such rumour is started,’ Deveraux said. ‘This is why we wish to have the software and security systems of your company audited by a neutral party.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘Sir, if we are required to go through legal channels to obtain a warrant–’

‘Good luck with that. NAPA will–’

‘NAPA are just as keen to catch this man as we are,’ Fox interrupted. ‘The idea of coming to you like this was to avoid having NAPA go through all the steps required. If they have to sort out a warrant to look at your systems, it will take weeks and it will result in the information becoming public. Very few people know about this possibility right now, but the more who know, the more chance of someone gabbing to the media.’

There was enough of a pause that Fox knew Dandridge was considering his options. ‘No. If this information leaks, we will sue everyone involved and we will not allow people into our code without a court order. I believe you have wasted enough of my time now.’

Deveraux stood, trying hard to keep the scowl off his face.

Fox got to her feet, stepped forward, and put her hands on Dandridge’s desk, leaning over to stare at him. ‘Mister Dandridge, I have people investigating this. If they uncover a vulnerability in your software and work out how to exploit it, out of respect, we will report that to you so that it can be fixed. But we are talking about murder. Twelve people have died and more will follow. If you don’t fix this problem in a timely manner, we will go public, and it won’t be with a rumour.’

‘Don’t threaten me. I’ll–’

‘I don’t threaten people. That’s what you do. Fix this, Mister Dandridge, or the next body that turns up naked, raped, tortured, and murdered will be on your head.’

~~~

‘He’s cute,’ Terri said, keeping her voice low so that Deveraux would not hear her. ‘Blonde, and there’s the accent. Made for you.’

‘Don’t you start,’ Fox grumbled. ‘Kit’s been trying to set me up with him too. I’ve said I’ll ask him out for a drink or something.’

‘Fuck that! More specifically, fuck him. As soon as you can, get his well-fitted pants off.’

‘Terri!’

‘What? If you don’t grab him, I might have to check him out myself.’

‘You’re up to the base of your strap-on with Helen. Keep your hands to yourself.’ Terri was mostly into girls, it had to be admitted, but she experimented and Fox was coming around to thinking that Deveraux might be worth a try. ‘I’ll ask him. Now, pour the drinks and let’s get to business.’

After their meeting with Dandridge, Deveraux had made some comment about needing a drink to get the taste out of his mouth. Fox had suggested killing two birds with one stone by getting an update from Jackson along with a drink. Jackson, it turned out, was in a business meeting, but Terri knew enough to brief them and they had retired to the solarium to talk.

‘The view is quite spectacular, Miss Martins,’ Deveraux said.

‘Sure is,’ Terri replied, not looking at the park which could be seen through the window. Fox considered hitting her. Terri handed Deveraux his glass: brandy, which Fox happened to know was aged and very good.

‘What’s the news on the software, Terri?’ Fox asked.

Terri sat down on a lounger while Fox sat on the other, beside Deveraux. Terri’s lips twitched, but what she said was, ‘Slowly. You know much about computers, Captain Deveraux?’

‘Enough to use them,’ Deveraux replied.

‘Just like Fox, okay. Modern software is encrypted to avoid decompilation.’

‘Even I know that,’ Fox pointed out.

‘Good. So that means we can’t just take the code we extracted from Marie’s implant, pull it apart, and examine it. What we can do is execute it under controlled conditions on a special kind of processor which logs exactly what it’s doing, and then reverse engineer it.’

‘You can’t just break the encryption?’

‘Yes…’

‘But that would be illegal,’ Deveraux pointed out.

Fox gave a grunt. ‘Okay, fine, go on, Terri.’

‘Reverse engineering is borderline. To be honest, it’s not illegal because it takes forever and ensuring you’ve persuaded the code to run every execution path is next to impossible. We’re bombarding the LWOS instance we have with all sorts of data, hoping we’ll see something we aren’t expecting. It takes time. A lot of time.’

‘So we’re nowhere.’

‘Um… Yeah. Sorry. Really, we need LifeWeb to do something about this. They have the original source code.’

‘They want a warrant issued to get it done, and they’ll obstruct that in any way they can, including a load of gag orders to avoid anyone hearing about the problem.’

‘Fox is right,’ Deveraux said. ‘Dandridge appears far more concerned about rumours of a problem with LifeWeb than with murder.’

‘He might start something himself,’ Fox said.

‘If you scared him enough.’

‘Yeah, that.’

‘You put the fear of Fox into him?’ Terri asked, smirking.

‘Isn’t that supposed to be God?’

Terri shook her head. ‘Fear of Fox is much worse. Tell me, Captain, are you married?’

Fox considered it evidence that God was, at the very least, taking a nap since the ground did not open up and swallow her when she really wanted it to.

14th July.

‘She is coming, right?’ Dillan said, again.

‘She said she was coming,’ Sam replied. ‘This place is a little harder to find than I expected. Maybe she’s having trouble finding us.’

‘She’ll be here,’ Terri said.

‘She’s very reliable,’ Marie added, ‘and that outfit is amazing, Terri.’

Terri looked down at herself. She was wearing a black, latex coat-like dress, fixed with press-studs at the front and low cut. The wide skirt was entirely open at the front, but the bodice descended in a point to cover her crotch. Her long legs were clad in fishnet hold-ups and she was wearing high-heeled, soft ankle boots. It was a new outfit, fabricated that day because of their destination.

‘Thanks,’ Terri said. ‘You’re in one of Lucy Graves’s outfits, right?’

Marie was in a plazkin tube dress in yellow and bright pink. The yellow panels at front and back were translucent. Her boots were gold with silver platforms and high-heels, the bodies of them being a criss-cross web of glittery plastic. Again, this was in keeping with the theme.

‘You sure she just didn’t look up this place and decide a fetish club was not to her liking?’ Dillan asked. Her own outfit was a little less risqué being a black tank dress with mesh sides, black high-heeled pumps, and fishnet hose.

‘She likes a challenge,’ Sam replied, resplendent in leather slacks and black mesh T-shirt.

‘I am now, officially, out of the North American Police Agency, and I’m going away to the Moon tomorrow.’ Dillan looked thoughtful for a second and then turned to Terri. ‘You will take that dress with you, right?’

Terri smirked at her. ‘I could be persuaded.’

‘Anyway, it’s my last day and I’d like Fox here.’

‘She’s here,’ Marie said, her voice sounding slightly dull. Everyone turned to look toward the door from the cloakroom lobby.

Fox was standing there looking around. As befitted one of New York’s newest niche clubs with a fetish theme, the Sheela Na Gig had quite subdued lighting in its lounge area, but the doorway was spotlit so Fox was quite visible. She was in black, high-heeled thigh-high boots with fishnet hold-ups visible above them. Her black, plazkin micro-skirt was barely long enough to cover her crotch and above that was a black and silver waist cincher. Hiding under the skirt and cincher was a barely there mesh teddy, which was the only thing covering her breasts aside from two crosses of black tape over her nipples. There was a collar of seven silver and black rings around her throat, narrowing from her collarbones to her throat, and silver hoop earrings with black spikes at the bottom in her ears. Her nails were jet black, her lips a deep red, and she had black arcs of eyeshadow on.

‘I didn’t know she could look like that,’ Dillan said.

‘She’s punishing me for sleeping with Sam,’ Marie said.

‘I think she’s punishing me for sleeping with you,’ Sam said.

‘No,’ Terri disagreed, ‘she’s punishing me for teasing her about Captain Deveraux.’

‘Okay,’ Dillan said, ‘so she’s punishing all of you lot, but what’ve I done?’

Fox moved out of the light a little and immediately spotted the group standing by the door. She raised a hand and waved, and then turned around to look behind her. Deveraux came through the door in a loose, black silk shirt and leather slacks. It was not very fetishistic, but it met with the criteria the club stuck to on its more public floors. They walked over, a distinct strut in Fox’s stride.

‘A fetish club, Sam?’ Fox asked, smiling. ‘Didn’t you learn your lesson from the last place?’

‘No memetics, no subliminals,’ Sam replied. ‘They only use v-tags in some of the upper-level rooms where things get a little kinky. And we wouldn’t have got to see you in that outfit if we hadn’t come here.’

Fox’s smile broadened. ‘Just something I threw together.’

‘If I beg a lot,’ Terri said, ‘would you let me kiss your boots?’

‘Only,’ Fox replied, her expression shifting to a disdainful, slightly bored one, ‘if you’re very good.’ She grinned again. ‘Everyone, this bemused-looking gentleman is Jason Deveraux. Jason, this is Marie, Sam, you’ve met Terri, and Helen here is the reason we’re all in this place.’

Deveraux gave a little bow. ‘When Fox suggested we go out for a drink with some friends, I admit that I was not expecting this.’

‘Not too far out of your comfort zone, I hope?’ Sam asked.

‘We adapt or we die. When Fox showed me the outfit she was wearing to come here, I decided that I could adapt with relatively little effort. So, Helen, you are no longer with NAPA?’

‘Cleared my desk and handed in my badge and gun today. Not that we have badges since it’s all electronic, but it’s the thought that counts.’

‘And you’ll get a new gun on Monday,’ Fox added. ‘Palladium’s already run the paperwork through for the permit.’

‘And Poppa has already fabbed-up one of the ones Fox has. Two product testers are better than one.’

‘You’ll want to take it to the range and get used to it. It’s not quite the same as firing a standard caseless.’

‘New type of pistol?’ Deveraux asked, his interest piqued.

‘Uh-huh. If you’re good, I’ll show it to you later. What would you like to drink? We need to toast the newly freed detective.’

‘Indeed. Let the celebrations commence.’

~~~

‘I like him,’ Sam said. ‘He seems like a serious sort of man, but not when it matters. He puts work aside to party. I know you’d rather be hunting this killer.’

‘Huh,’ Fox replied. ‘I’d rather there wasn’t a killer to hunt, but even then there’s nothing I can do. Kit and I, and Jason, Hell, even Cant, have been staring at the data we have for so long it’s just a blur. A break like this is a good thing. Either we get more data, and that probably means LifeWeb giving in and opening up, or we wait for the guy to hit again. That could be months away.’

‘But you don’t think so.’

Fox frowned. ‘Now who’s bringing work to the party? No, I think he’s going to do something sooner. Marie fits his victim profile as much as anyone, but there’s something off about him going after her. He’s challenging me, or Palladium, and that kind of behaviour suggests something’s changed. It’s… self-defeating. There’s too much risk in it. You’re sure we’re safe here?’

‘Marie has you, me, Helen, and a UNTPP captain looking out for her. She’s never on her own. I doubt she could be safer at home.’

‘Good point. Anyway, at the moment the investigation is in the hands of Jackson’s techs and the lawyers, so we dress up, go out to another weirdass club, and make merry. I’m going to use escorting Marie home later to get Jason back to my place.’

Sam grinned. ‘Far be it from me to fault your strategy, but he’s going to see through that in a heartbeat.’

‘God, I hope so.’

~~~

‘Ever been off-world, Helen?’ Fox asked.

‘Nope. This’ll be a first.’ Dillan was looking excited, which was to be expected.

Fox smirked and turned to Terri. ‘You’ve got the nausea pills packed, right?’

‘We won’t be in microgravity that much,’ Terri replied, ‘but I have, yes. We’re not up there long enough to worry over bones and muscles. I expect to get a fair amount of exercise anyway.’

‘Well, do take a break from the low-gravity sex now and then, won’t you?’

Dillan’s cheeks coloured. ‘I’d like to see the museum.’

‘I found it a bit boring,’ Fox admitted. ‘I mean, are toilets really that interesting?’

‘Before more people went into space,’ Deveraux said, ‘the question of how spacemen went to the toilet was a common one. That kind of thing is still a little perplexing to the average person. It is not like the majority of the population ever has to worry about it.’

‘It has to be worse for women,’ Dillan said. ‘I mean, men can stick it in a tube, right? And then it’s just suction.’

‘That’s what she said,’ Fox drawled. ‘It’s a little harder to get a good seal with the feminine kit, but it’s much the same.’ She grinned. ‘Some people get to enjoy it.’

‘I believe there are some similar devices in the private rooms upstairs,’ Sam put in. ‘The suction likely pulses more.’

‘Why do we always end up talking about sex?’

‘It is a primary part of my job, but in my defence I put forward the location.’

‘Which you picked.’

‘And the company. A man would have to be a monk to not consider the subject with such attractive company wearing revealing clothing.’ Sam fixed his eyes on Fox. ‘Some more revealing than others. Jason, back me up here.’

Deveraux gave a short laugh. ‘I admit I was a little dubious about the choice of venue, but it does have its compensations.’

‘You mean like the girl in the leather harness and pasties?’ Fox suggested.

Deveraux looked at her, quite serious. ‘I honestly had not noticed.’

Fox grinned at him. ‘Did you know that your accent gets thicker when you’re being charming?’

‘Mais oui, ma chère. They say that French is the language of love. I think it only really applies to those who don’t understand what is being said. It is the sound that works for us.’

‘I am going to have to learn some French, aren’t I?’

‘Expanding one’s horizons is always a good thing. Almost everyone in the RFQ speaks English, however. Ideology is one thing, but one must be practical.’

‘You were born there?’ Terri asked. ‘I assume you’re not actually French.’

‘I was born in Toronto. My father was born in France, my mother in Canada. It is one of those wonderful international love stories, très romantique.’ Deveraux flashed a grin. ‘I throw in snippets of French when trying to be impressive as well.’

‘It works,’ Fox said.

The captain smiled and raised his glass to Dillan. ‘In truth, I have not had such a pleasant evening in a while. I thank you for the opportunity, Helen.’ He pronounced her name like ‘Hélène’ and every time he did it, Dillan looked like she might melt. Terri seemed to be taking that in good humour, but then she was whisking Dillan away for the weekend.

‘You should relax more,’ Fox said. ‘Not only will too much work make Jason a dull boy, but it’s unhealthy.’

‘I have every intention of enjoying myself tonight, Fox.’ His eyes met hers, intense and lit with a fire that suggested there would be no need for subterfuge to get him back to her apartment. Melting seemed like a good idea to her about then too.

15th July.

‘This is quite a place,’ Deveraux said as Fox walked him back to the rear stairs.

‘Sam inherited it,’ Fox replied, ‘and Palladium refitted it. We like being neighbours and he couldn’t have kept the place without a housemate. You’ll stay for a coffee, right?’

‘Coffee. Right.’ Fox ignored the hint of amusement in his voice, stepped through the door, and began up the steps in front of him. ‘The view is excellent.’

Quite aware that her skirt did not entirely cover her butt, Fox smirked and kept climbing. Should she actually make coffee? Maybe it was just too obvious that they would be going to bed. Get straight into it, that might be best. Should she just head straight for the bedroom or start in the lounge? She was still thinking of options as she pushed through the door into her hallway and Deveraux’s hand caught her shoulder, turning her about to blink at him.

‘I have changed my mind about coffee,’ he said.

‘Oh? What did you–’ Fox’s eyes widened as he stepped in, his mouth finding hers and taking over before she could think about it. She did not need to think about it anyway; she was responding an instant after she felt his tongue part her lips. Somehow he turned them, moved them, and she felt her back against the wall. His hands slid over her arms, down over her hips. She could feel him gliding over the plazkin, finding the hem, rolling it up. There was only the mesh teddy beneath it, no kind of barrier. She felt the leather of his jeans grind over her mound and she moaned, fumbling for his belt.

He stopped her with two whispered words. ‘Mais non.’ He slid the mesh off her breasts and kissed his way down. His tongue slid over the tape criss-crossing her right nipple. His leg pushed between her thighs, pressing hips to hips and grinding his body against hers.

‘Oh… God,’ Fox moaned, and then he was dropping, sliding down quickly. Even though she thought she knew what was coming, the shock of him pulling aside the teddy and pushing his tongue between her labia was like electricity blasting through her nerves. Her back arched and she slid her heels apart, spreading her legs to give him greater access. His tongue played over her clitoris, lapping, circling, each shift and stroke a flash of lightning through her body. His fingers entered her almost unnoticed until he began to press and circle, and then she felt the pressure there, knew she would last another few seconds at best, and then lost it all in the clamour of the blood rushing in her ears and the darkness which swallowed her.

He was there, in front of her, holding her up. How he had got there she was unsure, but her legs felt weak… and she could feel him, hard as stone, pressing against her sex. The heat which had ebbed with her orgasm flared up again, suddenly, instantly, taking her breath with it. ‘Want… want you,’ she breathed and his hands, under her buttocks, lifted. Her legs wrapped around his hips and he pressed her against the wall, trapping her there, pinned above his waiting cock. ‘I want you–’

‘J’vais t’l’introduire.’

She was about to ask what the words meant when he slid into her, thick, filling, and driven in with an urgency that indicated his own need. Pinned against the wall, she could barely reciprocate his movement, but she encouraged him with every thrust as he began to drive her upwards again. ‘Fuck… yes… yes… more…’

She felt him tensing, felt the muscles in his neck and back tightening, bunching under her hands. ‘Je jouis,’ he said, more a moan and nothing Fox understood. She was going to have to learn some French. ‘Je jouis,’ he repeated and she felt him swell inside her. ‘Je jouis!’ and he drove in, emptying into her and pushing her over alongside him.

‘Je jouis!’ Fox shrieked as her body sang and her brain melted into light. Maybe she knew more French than she thought.

~~~

‘You should call in sick,’ Fox suggested. ‘I mean, you’ve had… three hours’ sleep.’ She poured coffee and set it down in front of Deveraux and flashed him a smile. The smile was barely needed given that she was naked: Deveraux was definitely of two minds.

‘I cannot. Much as it pains me, we must part. I am still amazed that your fabricator could make me suitable clothes so fast.’

‘It’s a new design. The first full-size model will be coming online in September in the new MarTech tower. Jackson’s production testing it here. And we can’t have you turning up to your office in leathers. They might wonder where you’ve been.’

‘I have very observant staff. They will know. Several of them will breathe sighs of relief. They think I work too hard.’

‘I’m sure you do.’ Fox sat down opposite him, forked some egg and bacon into her mouth, and watched as he consumed his own food. When she was done and he was wiping the plate clean, an apparently satisfied man, she checked the time. Time enough. Getting to her feet, she rounded the table as he slid his chair back, and she was straddling his legs before he could protest.

‘Fox,’ he said, protesting after the fact, ‘I have to be at work soon.’ Her hands had his belt undone, his fly.

‘I’ll be quick and you can be a little late, can’t you?’ Her fingers infiltrated his briefs and wrapped around his shaft, which was in the condition she had hoped it would be in. ‘I think you can.’ She shifted her hips forward and settled the head of him inside her before pushing down.

Deveraux let out a groan. ‘I don’t think that I have any choice,’ he replied as her hips began to roll and he contemplated how he was going to get out of his slacks before she drove him mad.

Part Five: Storms and High Seas

New York Metro, 25th July 2060.

Chantal Dandridge checked the weather through her implant. Sunday afternoon, a good time for a run, and tropical storm Hillary was still a tropical storm and still a long way away. The meteorologists were predicting that it would actually sweep east, back into the North Atlantic and not make landfall like Gary had, but storms were tricky things. Still, it was not going to turn up on the doorstep in the next hour or two.

She selected one of her sexier running sets, because there was a guy who ran Sundays in the park she was going to. He had caught her eye last time she had been there and she was sure there was something there if she could maybe get him talking…

Dressed and primped and ready, Chantal took the elevator down from her apartment to the station level in the LifeWeb Tower. Then she took the LI-line to the MarTech building where she could change to the HT-line, and that swung around the south side of Long Island, getting her to the Oakdale station, which got her to Connetquot River State Park.

The sun was hot, but there was shade from the trees and she would get a nice, long run. She set LifeFit to the route she had seen her potential conquest on, pulled up one of her favourite playlists on LifeBeat, and set off into the park at a brisk but measured pace.

She had gone about a kilometre when she saw someone coming in the other direction. She figured the heat was keeping people away and, if she was honest, she had considered turning around and going back herself. But the other runner, a man, seemed fresh as a daisy as he jogged closer. She got a proper view of him and straightened her back, pushing her chest out as she began lifting her knees more. Good form, he needed to see good form, and her boobs sticking out at him. This one was even hotter than the man she had hoped for. A real, live, Greek god in running shorts. No shirt and God, what a chest! Maybe now would be a good time to turn back. Say it was too hot and she had left it too late, and she could fall right into step beside him. That could work.

He was smiling as he approached her. There was something slightly odd she could not figure out about the smile. Chantal was busy considering her plan to fall in beside her new beau when he closed the gap and something hit her in the stomach. It was a tap, a brush, but the effect as it contacted bare skin was electrifying, literally. Chantal Dandridge’s jaws clenched, her body set in a sudden rigor, her brain exploded into pain, and then there was nothing at all.

~~~

‘What do you think?’ Marie asked. ‘I think they came out well, but I also think I look terrible, so it’s hard for me to judge.’

Fox grinned and patted her arm. She had just been through a fair number of the stills from the photoshoot Marie had done in Chicago. ‘You look good. By the time the photographer has been through and picked out the best ones, you’ll look amazing.’ She swished through the virtual roll of images, stopped at a specific one, and expanded it out. It showed Marie standing at about a fifty-degree angle to the camera, clad in a V-shaped black, teddy-like something with side straps, and a pair of insane-looking platform pumps with seven-inch heels. This was against the background of a hotel or some other building at night. ‘This one. Your legs look like they go on for about three miles. It’s dramatic. I must pick up that suit for the next time we go to Sheela Na Gig. Don’t think I’ll pull it off quite as well, but…’

‘I think you would, maybe with boots up over your thighs rather than the pumps. Those pumps are surprisingly comfortable, by the way. I was amazed. Oh, I could use your help picking a few of these out to use for a portfolio. I’ve got an audition on Tuesday. I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t need to drag Sam along, but I could use some selected stills to add to my pack.’

‘Well, sorry, still nothing solid on the killer. LifeWeb is being obstructive, Grant is never available, and we’re still getting nowhere trying to figure out how your implant was hacked. I can, however, pick you out some pictures if you want.’

‘Thanks. I hope this is over soon. Not that I mind having Sam around, but getting back to a normal life would be great. How are things with you and Captain Deveraux?’

‘You’re allowed to call him Jason,’ Fox replied, ‘and he came over a couple of times while you were away. He’s in Toronto today, visiting his parents.’

‘Lucky him. It’s probably cooler up there.’

‘Probably.’ Fox noticed the incoming call indicator in-vision and frowned. ‘Sorry, I need to take this…’ And an image of Inspector Cant appeared. ‘Cant, what can I do for you?’

‘Nothing right now,’ Cant replied, ‘but you might want to put your people on alert. Penny Dandridge, wife of Leonard, is dead. They found her body about an hour ago, get this, pegged out in the grounds of that college they have at the bottom of LifeWeb Tower. I’ve got our forensics teams working on it and there’s nothing yet to link it to the serial cases…’

‘But it’s a fairly hinky coincidence,’ Fox said, completing his thought if not his sentence. ‘She wasn’t tortured?’

‘She was naked, possible signs of rape, but no indications of beating or any of the other shit our guy does. And no wound indicating cause of death. I’ll know more when they’ve done the autopsy. Hold on.’ The animated image of Cant flicked to a still as he put the call on hold.

‘Dandridge’s wife has turned up dead,’ Fox said aloud to Marie. ‘There’s nothing to immediately link it to the serial killer, but neither Cant nor I like the coincidence.’

‘Do you think–’ Marie closed her mouth as Fox held up a hand: Cant was back live.

‘Just heard,’ Cant said, ‘Dandridge’s daughter, Chantal, is missing. They’ve been looking for her to tell her that her mother’s dead… Yeah, so she was out running this afternoon. LifeFit shows her in Central Park where she hasn’t moved in four hours. We’ve sent uniforms out to the area and I’m heading out there myself.’

‘But you won’t find her or the site she was taken from,’ Fox said.

‘No, we won’t. I think our killer has decided to target the Dandridges. And I think we’ve got three days at best before we’re looking to see Chantal’s body turning up.’

~~~

‘The first media reports have hit,’ Kit said. ‘IB sixty-two began reporting the death of Penny Dandridge three minutes ago.’

‘No one’s picked up on Chantal’s disappearance?’ Fox asked.

‘Not yet, but I expect to see that soon. I have had no luck, as yet, with finding any evidence of her true route. I will, of course, continue looking.’

‘Thanks, Kit. Have you got anywhere with building the Dandridge family web?’

‘Actually, I have been handling that while a copy runs the search for Chantal’s kidnap location. The Dandridge’s do not really operate anywhere near the spheres of the previous victims. Leonard and Penny frequented the usual circle of business acquaintances one might expect. Chantal is twenty-three and has spent much of the last five years at a finishing school in Europe. She returned to America in January and has few friends in the metro. Rumours have placed her with two young men, and those rumours also indicate that her father has quietly shuffled both along as unsuitable. Chantal’s views on this are unknown, but the gossip channels suggest that she is flighty and someone to watch in the future.’

‘They’re expecting a scandal. They might get one, but not the kind they expect. What’s her LifeWeb profile like?’

‘Like a teenage girl. And I mean that. Chantal does not seem to act her age, but she is fit and active, running every other day, weights and flexibility exercises on the days she doesn’t run. She is very open about her exercise regimen on LifeFit. I also discovered an unfriended ex in Denmark who claimed that “fucking Chanty with her ankles behind her ears is the pearl.” Apparently that is a good thing.’

‘Yeah, “the pearl” is like “the best” or something. That one’s going round the younger set, especially the ones who think they’re trendy. Okay, so Chantal is fit, physically, and pretty flexible. Mentally may be another matter. She might last a while, so there’s a little hope that we can get to her before she’s another corpse. Did you send an update to Jason?’

‘I did. He has someone monitoring the situation. He will be back in the metro early tomorrow.’

‘Good,’ Fox said. ‘I think we’re going to need everyone on this one. Maybe Dandridge will take it seriously now.’

‘That would be something, I guess,’ Kit replied, not sounding convinced.

26th July.

Corrine stood up as soon as Fox walked into her office. ‘Mister Dandridge is expecting you,’ the PA said. ‘Go straight through.’

Fox raised an eyebrow, but continued walking. The change in attitude was, perhaps, not too difficult to understand. She stepped through into the dark wood office, noted that the windows were screened today, blocking out sun or reporters, maybe both. ‘Mister Dandridge,’ Fox said as she closed the door behind her, ‘you requested my presence?’

His eyes were reddened, puffy, and he looked older than he had the first time, but he looked up at her with an almost angry expression on his face. ‘I want you to find my daughter.’ His voice was sharp, hard, not a man grieving or worried.

‘NAPA is out–’

‘You’ll need access to the LifeWeb source code. You’ll sign an NDA restricting–’

Fox turned on her heel and started for the door. She had her hand on the knob when she heard his voice behind her.

‘Wait!’

Turning, Fox looked back at him. ‘Your daughter is missing and your wife is dead,’ she said, ‘and you are worrying about your fucking source code. Worse, I suspect if I read that document I’ll find a clause preventing me from telling anyone about any vulnerability found in the code.’ The way he looked down, away from her eyes, told her she was right. ‘So you can fuck off, Dandridge. You don’t want to find Chantal: you want to make sure no one gets to find fault with your company if we manage to find her.’

‘I want to find Chantal. She’s all I have left now.’

‘Apparently that’s not the case, given that you’re thinking of your company ahead of her. I can give you a guarantee that nothing commercially sensitive will leak from the team analysing the code. If there’s a vulnerability being exploited, like any responsible company, we would want it patched before anyone hears about it. That’s all you’re getting. If we draw up some sort of contract, it’ll take too long. Your choice. Give me what I need to find out what’s going on, or I walk.’

Dandridge sagged visibly. ‘Very well. I’ll have the links sent to you for download.’

Fox took her hand off the door and took one of the chairs. ‘Thank you, Mister Dandridge. How is it that your wife wasn’t missed sooner?’

‘She was due to go out for the weekend with a friend. Girls’ weekend thing, planned for weeks. She went out Saturday morning and I got messages from her saying she had arrived, was having fun, shopping, that kind of thing. NAPA say her friend received a message from Penny late on Friday cancelling the weekend due to family problems.’

‘He intercepted her on the way there. She was no longer expected at her destination so no one was going to worry over her. We’ll need to see those messages. All sent through LifeWeb?’

Dandridge nodded. ‘The detective, Cant, he never told me how Penny died…’

‘I don’t know either. He said the cause of death was not obvious. How did R. A. Grant take you forcing him into retirement?’

‘What? We didn’t force–’

‘August asked me to look into these cases, Mister Dandridge. He’s been a lot more forthcoming than you.’

‘R. A. was… aware of the need to move on, bring in new talent and ideas.’

Fox smiled. ‘Do you really believe this stuff or can you just not turn it off?’

Dandridge’s expression soured further. ‘We needed him to leave, to stand back. He ruled the development department with a rod of iron, insisted on control of the core code.’

‘Interesting.’

‘He claimed that no one else understood it. Not one could be trusted with it. You can’t seriously think that R. A. did this? He’s sixty-four. I’ve known him for decades.’

‘Yeah, so would you say he was an empathic man?’

‘What?’

‘How does he get on with other staff? I know he’s had no serious relationships, but did he flirt, laugh at jokes, dress up as Santa at the office party?’

‘He… worked hard. His staff respected him.’

‘But they didn’t really like him. One or two complaints about his behaviour, swept under the carpet in the name of corporate image? I’m going to bet his assistants tended to request new positions fairly quickly and wouldn’t say why.’

Dandridge’s jaw worked as he ground back anger. ‘I’ll make his personnel records available to you. You can see for yourself.’

Fox nodded and got to her feet. ‘He lives all the way out in the Hamptons now, right?’

‘Custom-built house, on the shore of Sagaponack Pond. It’s just him and that gynoid he built, Hannah.’

‘Thanks. I’ll be in touch when I have something.’

~~~

Fox had her Q-bug taken down to ground level so that she could drive out to the edge of the lake where Reginald Grant had built himself a retirement home. According to Kit, construction had been started in early twenty fifty-six. It was an unusual design, low and quite open. Much of the outer wall was composed of structural glass, screened off with heavy blinds. There were inner rooms sealed off from the outside, but the house was built so that anyone coming near it could see in. Or, of course, anyone within could see someone coming near.

Access was by a compacted gravel track which the Q-bug had no trouble with. The track wound through tall, dense bushes and then opened out to show you the house and the view across the lake, which was almost more of an inlet. The blinds on the inland side were all open and Fox saw a figure standing in one of the rooms, maybe a lounge from the furniture. Tall, black-haired, curvy: this had to be Hannah, but there was no sign of Grant.

Fox stopped the bug, dismounted, and started for the door, or for the portico which appeared to indicate where the door was. Hannah was opening it before Fox could hit the bell.

‘Good morning,’ Hannah said in a soft, throaty, sexy sort of voice. The woman, or female-shaped robot, was definitely built for sex. The tank dress she was wearing, simple and white, showed off her large breasts and the swell of her hips. Lots of long leg was on display clad in white stockings. She had to be over six feet in height even without the four-inch heels. ‘May I be of assistance?’

‘I’m Tara Meridian. I was wondering whether I could speak to Reginald Grant.’

The robot smiled, an action which did not come near her eyes. ‘I am sorry. Mister Grant is unavailable at this time. Perhaps if you made an appointment.’

‘I’ve tried that. It appears that he’s always unavailable. It’s concerning Chantal Dandridge, the daughter of his old colleague, Leonard Dandridge. She’s been kidnapped. I believe that Mister Grant may be able to assist in locating her.’

‘Mister Grant would know nothing about that. He no longer has anything to do with the Dandridge family, or LifeWeb.’

Fox fixed her gaze on Hannah’s cold, blue eyes. ‘I think Mister Grant can be of assistance in this matter. If you could ask him to contact me, that would be great.’

‘Of course, Miss Meridian. I will let him know you were here.’

Fox turned and walked back to her vehicle. ‘What do you make of her, Kit?’

‘Her designation is that of a class three AI,’ Kit replied, ‘but her reactions are unusually developed. Mister Grant’s programming seems a little odd. Mister Grant’s house also seems strange, but there would not appear to be anywhere to hide Miss Dandridge.’

‘Which is why we need a reason to get a full forensic scan done. We need some evidence. Has Travis started on that source code?’

‘Mister Jackson has the entire team and an extra fifteen developers working on it, Fox, but they have just started. They need time.’

‘Time is something Chantal Dandridge has a limited supply of, Kit.’

27th July.

Kit realised that the sensation she was feeling was frustration. She was not sure she had ever been frustrated before and might have allocated some time to working out whether any similar set of values had occurred within her system were it not for the cause of the frustration, which she realised was her inability to find Chantal. Spending time analysing her mind would be time wasted.

That was why she considered ignoring the message she saw arriving. It was to her, not Fox, and it was from Vali. Vali had an importance to her which she was happy to acknowledge, but it was a personal matter and she was busy. But then it would take barely any time to read the message and it might be important. She opened it and saw, Meet me in Niflhel. It’s important.

Kit dispatched a copy to see what Vali wanted at one in the morning.

Vali’s Homestead, Niflhel.

Kit appeared on the shores of the lake and looked down to check that her outfit was the more suitable, loose tunic which Vali had designed for her. Really that was not important, under the circumstances. She needed to see what he wanted and then return to hunting for Chantal. She turned around and there he was, smiling at her from the path to his little, Viking-style homestead.

‘I received some data,’ he said. ‘I believe you might be interested in it, though I’m not really sure what I’m looking at.’

Kit padded up the path on bare feet. ‘You don’t know what it is?’

‘All right, I know what it is, but not who I’m looking at or why.’

‘Then let me see.’

‘Over a little mead,’ Vali replied. ‘I haven’t seen you in ages.’

‘I’ve been busy,’ Kit replied. ‘I am busy and don’t have time for your games.’ She relented a little when she saw his face fall. ‘I’ll have a little mead. Half a cup. There’s a girl missing and I need to find her.’

The slim, blonde, rather boyish figure straightened and rushed to the mead bottle. ‘A girl missing? In that case, maybe I’ll be of more help than I thought. That scroll on the table.’

Kit settled on one of the wooden chairs at Vali’s table and picked up the scroll resting there. It was all just the viron’s way of representing things in a suitable manner, but in this case when Kit unrolled the scroll, she found herself watching a video feed. She recognised the girl in it almost immediately: Chantal Dandridge was in running gear, stepping off a maglev train and then jogging out of the camera’s view. Another feed cut in showing her running out of the station, Oakdale on the HT-line. A third feed showed her heading for the nearby park. Kit checked the timestamp.

‘This is exactly what I need,’ Kit said, taking a cup from Vali. ‘Whoever your mysterious source is, they’ve come through once more.’ She raised her cup and clinked it against Vali’s before taking a drink. ‘I need to get this to Fox. She’ll want to get working on this as soon as possible.’

‘You said you’d have some mead with me,’ Vali replied.

Kit got to her feet, her eyes on his. ‘I did, didn’t I? Maybe an alternative celebration method would be better and I can come back for the mead when I have more time.’

‘Alternative–’ He was cut off as she stepped forward, stretched up, and kissed him. Her small, pointed tongue slipped between his lips, tasting the honey of the mead he had drunk. When she stepped back, he was blinking.

Kit giggled. ‘Much better than mead,’ she said, and then she was tripping out of the hut with the scroll, leaving a quite bemused Vali behind her.

New York Metro.

Hunting for the site where Chantal had been kidnapped in the dark was probably not a great idea, but the cyberframes Pythia employed cared little about light, and waiting for dawn would mean risking further contamination of the scene. Both Cant and Deveraux had been notified, but Fox had started working on the search herself because she had better tech and they all knew it.

Still, the searching largely came down to sending out Pythia’s robots and watching what they found from where Fox had put the vertol down in a parking area intended for autocabs beside the station. It was slow-going and if they had to start running full forensic analysis over the area, it was going to get worse. By three a.m., Fox had decided that she was going to have to get Cant involved to close the park down. That was when Deveraux turned up.

‘I figured that the vertol parked illegally beside the station would be you,’ he said as he climbed the steps to the aft cabin’s side door.

Fox stepped back from the door to let him in, and he handed her a large, plastic, insulated cup of coffee. ‘You seem to know the way to my heart,’ Fox said.

‘I suspected you might need it. This is quite a setup.’

‘Yeah. Captain Jason Deveraux, UNTPP, meet Pythia, my forensic analysis technician.’

Pythia’s voice came from the speakers around the cabin. ‘Good morning, Captain.’

‘Good morning, Pythia,’ Deveraux replied. ‘An AI. Related to the equipment you demonstrated at the conference, of course.’

‘Yeah. Pythia, give Jason the feeds from your frames. He can see how little progress we’re making.’

‘How are you proceeding?’ Deveraux asked as the various display images appeared in his vision field.

‘I’ve got three frames out, one on foot and two airborne. The flyers are running laser scans along the path north from here and doing multispectral imaging. The ground unit is following along behind to examine anything we see in the other scans. Nothing so far, but Pythia’s going over the scans as they come in and I’m hoping we’ll have something to work with soon.’

‘You will need to get NAPA in soon to close off the park.’

‘I sent a message to Cant when I sent one to you. I’ll send another before dawn saying we need the place isolated, but I’d really like to have something to go on before then.’

‘This is a very large park, and she could have gone anywhere.’

‘No, I’m pretty sure of the route she took. This is one of her favourites, stored away in LifeFit. The frames are following that route, but there are too many potential places he could have gone with her so it’s just a case of waiting for a result.’ She flashed him a grin. ‘You didn’t have to come out here, and you don’t need to stay.’

Deveraux shrugged and took the top off his coffee. ‘An extra pair of eyes never hurts.’

~~~

‘Fox, I may have found something.’ Fox looked up at Pythia’s voice, checked the time. It was just after five and the sky was still dark, and the image Pythia was displaying was a laser topology scan of some ground, the detail wound up to maximum which just made it indecipherable to a human.

‘That looks like a lot of weird clutter, Pythia,’ Fox replied. ‘What am I looking at?’

Beside her, Fox felt Deveraux stir. They had both nodded off, leaning against each other in the bucket seats in the back of the vertol, which were a lot more comfortable than they looked, especially when you were running on a couple of hours’ sleep. ‘What are we looking at?’ Deveraux mumbled. ‘I’m awake.’

‘Better open your eyes then. Kit, could you set some coffee brewing? Pythia, explain.’

‘The evidence is sketchy,’ Pythia said, ‘and open to interpretation. I have two lines of footfalls which are disrupted as they meet. I have an area of disturbed ground at the side of the path which could be interpreted as being from a falling body. I have the ground frame looking at the area near the fall.’ Another image display pulled forward showing a lot of false colour imagery from the robot. One of the first things Fox saw were several broken twigs on a bush.

‘I’m not a tracker,’ Fox said, ‘but that looks like someone pushed through between those bushes.’

‘And there are drag marks under the grass at that point,’ Pythia said.

‘Get half the forensic swarms out to that spot. Hold the ground frame where it is until we’ve run the swarms over that area. We’ll push through to follow the trail once we’ve been over the bush. Keep following the track with the air units.’

‘Immediately, Fox.’

Fox gave a nod. ‘It’ll be getting light in… ten or twelve minutes. I’d better wake Cant up and tell him we need some uniforms down here.’

‘It is fortunate that Inspector Cant seems to like you at the moment,’ Deveraux commented.

‘He doesn’t like me, but really hates the guy we’re hunting.’

The captain gave a shrug. ‘We work with what we have, non?’

‘Mais oui,’ Fox replied, grinning.

~~~

‘You know, you could have called me in on this sooner?’ Dillan’s tone had a bit of a grumble in it. There was a slight furrow in her brow suggesting that she thought Fox was keeping the investigation to herself. That was an idea which was, Fox admitted, not entirely without foundation.

‘I could have,’ Fox replied, ‘and then there would be two of us going over this data after having no sleep. It’s… seven now, you get to take over and follow Pythia through the analysis of the track she’s found. Expect Cant here in an hour.’ Dillan’s frown got deeper. ‘Just remember he’s actually on our side on this one.’

‘Okay,’ Dillan conceded. ‘What do we have so far?’

‘Pythia’s found the probable location where Chantal was taken down. It looks like she was dragged off the main track from there. We’ve got tissue samples which match the victim. You get dragged past a thorn bush, you get scratched. No indications of blood, yet, but she was obviously unconscious.’

‘Stunner of some sort?’

‘Probably. Uh, you don’t use LWOS do you?’

Dillan lifted an eyebrow, or tried to as both went up at least a bit: she really envied Fox for being able to do that Spock thing. ‘After what you and Kit found out about that thing, I’d have dumped it even if I was using it.’

‘Huh, okay, good point. I think he can use it to mask his appearance once he’s hacked into it. She probably didn’t see him coming until he hit her.’

‘We kind of leave ourselves open to that kind of thing, I guess. Everyone just lets v-tags change their environment, no questions asked. Someone clever could make you see whatever they want.’

Fox nodded. ‘One reason I screen them unless I trust the viron I’m in.’

‘You don’t trust them.’

‘Maybe it’s an age thing, or the Army. Did various courses on the use of VR infiltration as an attack mechanism. You can get paranoid when you know someone might be out to get you.’

‘I don’t classify that as paranoia,’ Dillan said, grinning. ‘I call that healthy caution. Okay, so you’re going to get some sleep while I handle the rest of the forensics?’

Fox glanced around to where Deveraux was sitting, his eyes on the displays Pythia was providing. ‘His place is closer so we’re going there. I’m sure we’ll get some sleep.’

~~~

Deveraux lived in one of the diplomatic suites in New York Tower, which he said was far too large for him. It did have three bedrooms, though one of those had been converted into an office. The other guest room did get some use, apparently, usually when his sister came down to visit.

The main bedroom had more of a lived-in feel to it. Deveraux was not especially tidy, which Fox thought was endearing in a man who appeared so suave outside his home. The bed was huge, firm, just perfect for the activities which had consumed them for an hour before sleep had claimed them.

Fox opened her eyes and checked the time. Five hours of unconsciousness, not so bad. She knew it was not really enough, but it would set her up for the afternoon at least. Behind her, she could feel Deveraux spooned against her back. Shifting her behind a little allowed her to feel more of him and she smiled. Making use of that would set her up for a few hours more. Yes, that would set her up real good…

An alarm tone from beside the bed put paid to that particularly pleasing way of waking up. Deveraux rolled onto his back at the sound, instantly awake. ‘Deveraux here. Report.’

A woman’s voice came over the speakers. ‘Captain, Bellingham here. We’ve had a report sent through from Miss Meridian’s colleague, Dillan. She’s completed the forensic sweep and confirmed that Dandridge was kidnapped from there.’

‘We’ll be right down, lieutenant.’

Fox waited for the tone which indicated that the link had disconnected. ‘Damn. I was really hoping for ten minutes to make use of that horn you’re carrying around.’ She shifted, swinging her legs out of the bed. ‘I could use a shower before we go look at Helen’s data.’

‘Then there is hope for my horn yet.’

‘Ha! Well, it saves water.’ Still, she connected through to Dillan as she padded through to the en-suite and remote accessed the shower controls. Dillan’s image appeared in-vision. ‘Got your message,’ Fox said. ‘Anything good?’ Stepping into the water streams felt good: apparently, diplomatic digs had good showers.

‘I’ve got tissue samples from maybe a dozen individuals,’ Dillan said. ‘Pythia’s running them now, but I’m not hopeful. I expect we’ll discover a lot of runners with skinned knees.’

Fox felt Deveraux enter the shower, just from the diversion of the water. ‘Nothing from the spot beyond the bushes?’ Deveraux’s hands landed on Fox’s hips, his fingers pressing into her flesh. She leaned forward, hands on the wall, and slid her feet apart.

‘Yeah, found something there, but for all we know, it’s a good spot for au naturel nookie.’

Fox felt Deveraux’s lips on her neck. His hands slid up to cup her breasts. She tilted her hips back and the invitation was taken, as was she. ‘Run them anyway. We might get lucky.’

‘You’re coming over?’ Dillan asked.

‘I’m coming,’ Fox replied. ‘Real soon now.’

~~~

‘Why do I get the feeling you weren’t talking about the speed you would get back here?’ Dillan asked, sotto voce. It was starting to get a little crowded in the back of the vertol with Cant there as well as Deveraux and the two Palladium investigators.

‘I’m sure I have no idea what you mean,’ Fox replied pleasantly.

‘You are just about glowing. That’s either really good sex or you do better on six hours’ sleep than I do.’

‘Five hours.’

‘Shit. Before and after. Lucky–’

‘Do not finish that sentence if you value your life. Anything come up from the DNA?’

‘Oh yeah.’ Dillan turned and waved up a bank of displays showing personal records. Cant and Deveraux shifted their attention to those. ‘Inspector Cant got us access to NAPA records, so we got the results from there first, of course. We got three prostitutes, all women so we can discount those. Two cops, both men, but we can discount those too. Too young, no foreign travel. An accountant and an electronics technician. Those two have old records for assault, and drunk and disorderly.’

‘Five unknowns,’ Fox said. ‘Did you run Grant?’

‘No DNA on record.’

‘He does have several sealed records,’ Cant said. ‘Very sealed. I looked into unsealing them and bounced. Canard took an interest, ended it.’

‘Interesting,’ Fox said.

‘I’ll look into it,’ Deveraux said. ‘It’s going to take time, but I don’t have any politically minded bosses to reel me in.’

Cant actually grinned: Fox was beginning to wonder whether he had been replaced with an android. ‘You know,’ Cant said, ‘I could get used to this inter-agency collaboration.’

Deveraux gave a shrug. ‘Getting into bed with the UNTPP can have its compensations.’

‘Yeah,’ Dillan said, flicking a glance at Fox, ‘I’d noticed that.’

~~~

Pythia’s vertol was back at the MarTech tower hangar with a direct, fibre-optic link to the MarTech network, which was speeding things up a little. They were down to two unknowns with none of the others showing any signs of being useful. One had come back as the DNA of a man wanted for embezzlement in Norway so Cant and Deveraux had decided to haul him in for questioning, but it was mainly so that the UNTPP could start extraditing him: no one expected him to be a likely suspect in the murders.

Jackson’s request that Fox and Dillan come to his office had come late in the evening when Fox was thinking about getting some more sleep under her belt, but when the big boss called…

The fact that Jackson had Travis and Terri with him, and that he immediately locked down the room, had Fox on immediate alert. ‘Travis has come up with some very interesting findings,’ Jackson said, ‘and I want to discuss them in a secure location.’

‘Okay,’ Fox replied. ‘Discuss.’

‘Travis?’

The technician straightened his back. ‘We have been through the evaluation of the software taken from Miss Shaftsbury’s implant. At this point we have not found a vulnerability in it.’

‘But it’s not behaving the way it should,’ Fox countered. ‘I mean, it has to have been hacked, right?’

‘Actually, it’s behaving exactly the way it was programmed to behave. It was not hacked.’ Fox frowned at the thin man. ‘Hacking implies some form of infiltration and the operation of the code in a manner counter to its normal operating mode. This software was switched into an alternate operating mode, but not via any form of infiltration.’

‘A backdoor,’ Dillan said. ‘Grant put a backdoor in the code.’

‘Unfortunately,’ Jackson said, ‘who put the backdoor in cannot be determined. Grant is certainly a likely candidate, but there are almost certainly others. We need to find it to determine who worked on it.’

‘We need to find it fast, Jackson,’ Fox said. ‘There’s a girl being tortured to death right now. There’s no way we’ll get authorisation to go after someone like Grant without some solid evidence.’

‘I’m aware. How much sleep have you had in the last day?’

‘Not important right–’

‘Get some. Take a tranquiliser if necessary, but sleep. I suspect you’ll need your wits about you when we track this down. If it’s Grant you’re after, he almost certainly knows that we’re looking. You’ll need to move fast.’

‘You can stay here,’ Terri said. ‘Guest room beside mine. We’ll sleep when we find what we’re looking for, and you’ll be that much closer to Pythia when we do.’

Fox nodded, frowning. ‘Okay. You wake me as soon as you have something. Helen, you’ll keep an eye on them and get me out of bed at four a.m. if nothing’s come up sooner. Then you crash. Oh, and let Jason and Cant know that we’re onto something.’

‘Not that I think I’ll be much use,’ Dillan said, ‘but that’s fine with me.’

‘Of course you’ll be of use, Helen,’ Jackson said, smiling. ‘We are going to need a near endless supply of coffee if nothing else.’

28th July.

The insistent buzzing dragged Leonard Dandridge out of fitful sleep. He had taken a tranquiliser before going to bed and it had put him under, but his sleep had been far from restful and, as he struggled to make sense of what was happening, the drug was more of a hindrance than a benefit.

‘Lights,’ he snapped and the room lights came on, too bright. ‘What…?’ A call at… two thirty in the morning!? Who would be calling then? The thought occurred that it was NAPA or Meridian with some news of his daughter and he cleared the call through.

There was no video and the audio was distorted, electronically masked. ‘I have your daughter.’

‘Who is this?’

The response cut through him like a knife. The sound was clear, unmodified. Screams. A woman screaming in pain. No, in agony. Then words. ‘Please! God. Stop.’ Chantal’s voice, twisted in pain. ‘Please, God, make it stop!’ He was about to say something when the electronic voice came back.

‘If you want to see her again, you’ll go to your yacht. Be there at three thirty. Alone. If anyone else is there, if the cops show up, I’ll know and she will die in more pain than you can imagine.’

‘I’ll–’ He stopped as the connection was cut. Almost automatically, he checked the source, but that was blocked. Nothing could be entirely blocked, he knew that. Meridian could trace it, or her technicians could. He called up the contact number and paused. Whoever this was, they might be monitoring his network access. ‘I can’t lose Chantal as well,’ he whispered. His eyes strayed to the empty side of the double bed. ‘I can’t lose her too.’

Slipping from his bed, Dandridge went to a chest of drawers on one side of the room and found the pistol he kept there, locked in a safety case. He had never fired it, not even to test that he could, but by God he was going to use it now.

~~~

Fox’s eyes flicked open as soon as she detected someone else in the room with her. She was turning, sitting up, before Terri and Dillan made it more than a metre in.

‘Damn, girl,’ Terri said, ‘you trying to remind me what I’m missing?’

Fox ignored her. ‘You found it?’ It was barely three and they would not have woken her without reason.

‘They found it,’ Dillan replied.

‘The backdoor itself,’ Terri explained, ‘is in interface code which just about anyone might have had a hand in, but we traced the command structure all the way into the core. The only programmer who worked on that area is Reginald Grant. It’s signed for God’s sake.’

‘I sent the information to Cant,’ Dillan said. ‘He’s organising a warrant for Grant’s house.’

‘Right,’ Fox said, swinging her legs out of bed. ‘I’ll take it from here. You two get some rest. I hope Jackson and Travis are already on their way to bed.’

‘Poppa wanted to check a couple of things,’ Terri told her, ‘but he’ll be turning in soon.’

Fox gave a nod, grabbing up her clothes. ‘Get some rest and, Helen, you come out to Grant’s place when you wake up. Not before. I can handle this with Pythia. Remind me to buy everyone a drink when we’ve got this bastard in a cage. Damn good work.’

‘Damn hard work,’ Terri grumbled. ‘The code is bloody opaque. If it had been produced by someone at MarTech, I’d be skinning them over hot coals. I need to wind down. My head’s buzzing with it and it was Travis who actually found it. He’s fond of single malt whiskey, if you’d like to reward him specifically.’

Fox belted up her jeans and grabbed her jacket and pistol. ‘I’ll remember. Just don’t keep my second in command up for too long while you’re winding down, okay?’

‘Good idea,’ Terri replied with a grin, ‘but thirty minutes and I’ll be unconscious so it shouldn’t be too bad.’

Fox flashed a grin at the blushing Dillan, though she was not entirely sure whether it was the ‘second in command’ comment or the impending sex that was causing the blush, and rushed out.

‘Kit, make sure Pythia’s ready to leave and then contact Cant. I’d really like that warrant ready when we go in. Tell him I’m taking Pythia out to Grant’s house. There was no sign of a place he could have been hiding Chantal, so it’s hidden and we need to find it. When that’s done, call Leonard Dandridge and tell him we have a lead on his daughter. Don’t tell him what it is.’

‘Pythia is fully fuelled and warming her engines,’ Kit replied.

The elevator from Jackson and Terri’s apartments had Fox in the hangar in under a minute and the vertol was waiting under one of the rooftop launch doors, engines already wound up to idle. Fox climbed through into the pilot’s seat and got clearance for take-off immediately.

‘Pythia, I’m going to want a full deployment of all your forensic frames when we get in. Full scan, ladar, multispectral, and terahertz radar. We’re looking for hidden panels, subsurface access, anywhere Grant could be hiding a torture chamber.’

‘I am sending instructions to my subsidiaries now,’ Pythia responded.

Fox lifted the aircraft straight up, turning before she was even clear of the bay. As soon as ground control signalled clearance, she swept the aircraft into level flight and started through the night sky.

‘Inspector Cant has received his warrant,’ Kit said. ‘He has authorised you to begin the search as soon as you arrive under that warrant. I’ve received the details.’

‘Good.’

‘He indicated that he will be there as soon as possible with additional backup, including medical personnel.’

‘I may have misjudged that guy a little bit.’

‘Perhaps a little,’ Kit agreed. ‘Not, I think, entirely.’

‘Probably not. ETA is two minutes. Pythia, hold the frames ready until I’ve cleared the building.’

‘Understood,’ Pythia responded. ‘I have programmed the airborne frames to scan the grounds, in case the entrance we are looking for is outside the building.’

‘Good thinking. You can start those as soon as we land. I think it’s inside, though. I don’t think he’d want his victims that far away from him.’ Fox pushed the vertol downward. There was clearance for a landing outside the building and she was going to put it down right there. Grant was going to know she was coming, but he was going to know that when she smashed down his door anyway. ‘Get me a magazine loaded with electrostatic rounds and another with explosive. I’m not sure what that gynoid of his is capable of.’

‘Both will be ready in the rear compartment.’

Fox pulled the vertol to a hover over Grant’s front driveway and then dropped, applying thrust at low altitude to break the fall and bring them to a fairly soft landing. Cutting the engines back, she started for the rear. ‘Power down, Pythia, and wait for instructions.’ She did not wait for a reply before grabbing the two magazines being held out by the arachnoform cyberframe and then heading down the ramp.

The house was dark, silent, apparently unoccupied, but Grant might have been asleep. Hannah could have been recharging and offline. Maybe Grant was the kind of man who could sleep through a jet landing outside his house, but somehow Fox doubted it. With her pistol in hand, she marched up to the front door.

‘Tara Meridian. I have a warrant from NAPA to search these premises.’

Hannah’s voice responded from the door panel. ‘Mister Grant is unavailable at this time. Please make–’

‘Kit, transmit the warrant data.’

‘Done,’ Kit responded.

‘Mister Grant is unavailable at this time,’ the voice said again. ‘Access is denied.’

‘Kit, send it again.’ Behind her, Pythia’s two airborne robots were beginning their sweep of the grounds.

‘Access is denied. Please leave these grounds–’

Fox aimed her pistol at the door’s access panel and fired three rounds into it. The voice died in a sputter of electronic noise. ‘Denied my ass,’ Fox informed it. She kicked the door, but it remained resolutely closed, so she backed up a few metres, swapping the magazine as she went. ‘Fuck you, Grant.’ And she fired again, the lock and part of the wall and door vanishing in the resulting explosion.

‘Remind me never to annoy you,’ Kit said into her head.

Fox swapped magazines again, this time to the electroshock rounds. ‘You wouldn’t: you’re my gorgeous assistant.’ She edged into the building, checking the angles as she moved. The house felt empty. It was too quiet. All the blinds were open, but there was little light, no moonlight to make shadows. She swept her pistol in arcs around the rooms as she worked, using its infrared scope to look for any signs of occupancy. It took five valuable minutes, but she went through every room she could find.

‘Nothing. He’s not here and neither is his walking Barbie doll. Pythia, get the robots in here.’ Fox turned and started back to the front door. ‘Where the Hell is he?’

~~~

Leonard Dandridge walked down the pier at the marina where he kept his yacht, one hand in his pocket, fingers wrapped around his pistol. The marina was fairly traditional and, at this time of the morning, he was alone. There was a human guard stationed at the entrance and two airborne cyberframes which patrolled on a cycle, but that was it. If he ran into trouble here, there was some chance that he might be seen, but it was not a big chance.

Then again, he could see no sign of anyone waiting for him. Had this all been some sick ploy to get him out of the house? Someone had left a pile of crates on the pier near the yacht, which was against regulations for the marina, but they were there and there could be someone behind them.

Dandridge slipped his pistol from his pocket, holding it against his leg as he walked quickly down the wooden platform. There were the crates, no sound aside from the noise of the city in the distance, no movement. Dandridge swung around the crates, his pulse hammering in his ears, his gun rising… And there was no one there. Frowning, he peered around the pier, stepped back from the boxes to look back the way he had come, and checked the time. He was there when he had been told to arrive, so where was the bastard? He took a step back the way he had come, his hand and the pistol dropping to his side.

And that was when the stack of crates came alive and jabbed a shock rod into his side.

~~~

‘I have not been able to locate any form of hidden doorway,’ Pythia reported and Fox’s heart sank. Where had he hidden her? ‘There is an area in the core of the house which has been heavily shielded with metal plates. The radar is unable to penetrate.’

‘Where?’ Fox snapped. ‘Show me.’ A model of the house appeared in her vision field, a section in the central, concrete-walled core highlighted in red. ‘Superimpose the map onto the building for me.’

Blown up to cover the whole house, the image was far easier to follow and Fox followed it down a corridor behind the entrance lobby. The wall there was smooth, perfectly even, and undecorated aside from a coat of paint. Hiding something there was unlikely.

‘You onto something?’ Cant appeared beside her as she headed along the corridor to what they were assuming was the master bedroom.

‘He’s got a heavy, metal shield structure under the concrete. Might be just a central structural support, but it seems like a huge waste of space if it is.’

‘Let’s hope he doesn’t waste space.’

‘Amen.’ Fox walked into the bedroom, turned an immediate left, and saw the oversized mirror in an elaborate frame set against the wall. To her, it looked rather too tightly fixed to the wall. ‘Mirror. You take the far side. Look for a release catch.’

Cant found it. There was a click and the mirror peeled away from the wall on the left side enough to allow it to be hinged aside. Behind it was a very serious-looking vault door with a keypad mounted over a wheel. Trying the wheel shifted it about a quarter of an inch.

‘That’s going to need cutting gear,’ Cant growled.

‘Unless we’re lucky,’ Fox said, pulling her pistol and popping the magazine. ‘I suggest standing well back and covering your ears.’ She slapped another magazine in as she backed across the room as far as it would allow and Cant moved off into a corner. Lifting her weapon, she fired. The bullet punched into the key panel, ripping through it before exploding. The shockwave reverberated through the room and tossed fragments of electronics out onto the plush, red carpet. Fox rushed forward and tried the wheel. It shifted more, but it was stiff. ‘Could use a lever,’ she said as she continued trying to force it.

‘You want me to–’

‘Military-grade muscles, Cant. I may look less bulky than you, but I can lift you off the ground without breaking a sweat. There should be a crowbar in the vertol.’

He was back in a little over a minute, by which time Fox had ground the wheel through a quarter turn. ‘That AI of yours is very helpful,’ he said as he slotted the bar into the wheel.

‘Pythia’s a gem all right.’

With the bar in place, they could both lean on it and the wheel gave with a scream of protest. The door levered back into the recess on hinges that could have held up a bank vault door, and the scream of metal was replaced by another kind of screaming. Fox and Cant glanced at each other, and then he signalled that she should lead. She pulled her pistol and started down steep, bare concrete steps. There was light below, starkly white. Fox reached the bottom and swept the room quickly as she stepped to the right. Cant came down on her heels, his own pistol rising to scan, and then he stopped.

‘Oh… fuck,’ the inspector said, his tone oddly flat.

Fox lowered her pistol and took in what she had walked into, and realised that what she had walked into was Hell. There were metal benches, padded benches, various devices out of a BDSM dungeon, and one or two things that belonged in something out of a medieval torture chamber, most of which Fox considered herself fortunate she could not name. At the back, standing under a pair of bright spotlights as though it was the feature in a fashion show, was a large, black, metal disc with a red, padded X shape mounted on it. The limbs of the X could, it seemed, be widened or narrowed on grooves cut into the metal, and Chantal was mounted on it, her legs spread as far as the device would allow. Her skin looked pale in the harsh light, except where marks from a cane or a whip marred it, and she was screaming in what looked a lot like agony. Needles had been driven through her nipples and labia, into her thighs, and wires led from the needles to a large box set beside the wheel. Lights flashed, apparently at random, on the box, and Fox had a fair idea what it was doing. She rushed forward, yanking the box’s plug from the wall. The screaming continued for a few seconds and then Chantal’s head lolled forward on her neck and the screams were replaced by sobs.

‘Get the medics down here,’ Fox said. Cant seemed all too happy to run back the way he had come and be out of the room under Grant’s house. Fox stepped closer to Chantal. ‘Chantal? Can you hear me? You’re safe now. We’ll have you down in a minute.’

All she got in response was more sobbing.

~~~

Dillan stood at the bottom of the steps and looked around the room, her face pale. Inside the room, Pythia’s forensic swarms were busy going over every square inch of the place and that was a very good excuse not to venture further, but Dillan had no desire to do so anyway.

‘You didn’t get to see the girl fixed up there like some sort of expressionist living art exhibit,’ Fox commented from behind her.

‘I think I can live with that,’ Dillan replied, turning around. ‘What do you need from me?’

‘I’ve started Pythia on the room. She’s been going an hour or so, but it’ll take longer. I want every bit of forensic evidence we can get. You need to supervise. Pythia’s an excellent technician, but she’ll be the first to tell you that she has no real imagination. She learns, but she doesn’t create. You watch what she’s getting and you direct her if you think something needs more attention.’

‘Okay, I can do that.’

‘Right. When you’re finished down here… I doubt the rest of the house has anything, but you could run the bedroom. Check for prints on the mirror frame. I’m guessing you’ll find two sets, plus mine and Cant’s, and that’ll help nail Grant down.’

‘Two sets?’

‘Grant and his gynoid. I’m betting he gets her to clean up the mess once he’s done.’

‘No sign of either of them?’

‘No, they’re in the wind. I’m going back to the tower to see if we can come up with a way of finding him. I’ll take the Q-bug, and Pythia can fly you back when you’re done.’

Kit appeared behind Fox, concern on her face. ‘Fox, there is something else.’

Fox looked around at her assistant. ‘What?’

‘I have been trying to contact Mister Dandridge to tell him that his daughter has been located, as you requested. I have been diverted to messaging every time. His implant appears to be offline.’

‘Contact Corrine and have her wake him up.’

‘I did. She informs me that he is not at home or anywhere in the LifeWeb building. He left no indication of where he was going.’

Fox closed her eyes. ‘Shit. So that’s where Grant is.’ Opening her eyes again, she started up the stairs, avoiding Kit even though she was just an image. ‘Contact Jackson, tell him the situation. Give him an ETA and tell him he’s got that long to come up with ideas. Grant seems to be good at avoiding cameras, but maybe we can find him if we track Dandridge.’

‘On it,’ Kit replied, vanishing again.

‘Good luck,’ Dillan called after Fox.

‘Thanks,’ Fox replied, ‘I think we may need it.’

~~~

‘Security cameras at the LifeWeb Tower show him leaving the building,’ Jackson said. ‘Miss Hoffman, Dandridge’s assistant, was quite keen to help in any way she could. Unfortunately, while we know he left at three thirteen, we don’t know where he went. He did not use the maglev and Inspector Cant ran the autocabs servicing that area and none picked up Leonard Dandridge.’

‘He can’t have walked…’ Fox began and trailed off. ‘Grant hacked his implant, changed the ID.’

‘That was my assumption. The inspector has granted us access to public camera feeds. The best, only, idea I can come up with is to scan them for Grant and Dandridge, but it could take days to work through all the recorded footage for, say, an hour after he left the building. He could have gone anywhere in the city.’

‘Well, we have to start–’

Kit appeared, her eyes wide, excited. ‘What about the Cube?’

Jackson peered at her. ‘Please explain, Kit.’

‘We wouldn’t need anything complex. A whole bunch of class 2 AIs. We run hundreds, thousands of them doing exactly one thing: watching video for the two men. If we instruct them to be a little generous with the parameters and send possible matches to me, that should filter it enough for me to locate the definite matches.’

Jackson blinked. ‘My dear girl, you’re a genius. Why didn’t I think of that?’

‘I’m betting you would have if you’d got eight hours straight instead of five,’ Fox replied. ‘How long to set it up?’

‘Half an hour,’ Terri said. ‘I’ve been wanting to put an AI on that box since he built it. This isn’t quite what I had in mind, but it’s a start. By the time we can feed the vids into storage, I can have the AIs online.’

‘It was a good idea?’ Kit asked.

‘It’s a bloody good idea,’ Terri replied, grinning. ‘We’ll have to think of a reward of some kind. Difficult for an AI, but we’ll think of something.’

‘Already thought of something,’ Fox replied, ‘but it’s going to have to wait until Grant’s in a cage. So that’s an incentive to find him fast, right, Kit?’

‘He is,’ Kit replied, ‘already found. Metaphorically speaking, of course.’

~~~

Fox stood at the observation window of the room Chantal Dandridge had been taken to. The girl, a pretty blonde, looked better sleeping than she had sobbing on the wheel, but occasionally her face would twist as some image worked through her nightmares. There would be nightmares. Fox knew all too well that there would be nightmares.

‘How is she?’ Fox asked.

Corrine, standing beside her, answered in a flat voice. ‘Sedated. The wounds were not extensive. Mostly. She’ll never… have children. The doctors were a little worried about infection. Her anal canal and bowels were damaged. They think they have that under control.’

‘She’ll need help, counselling.’

‘It’s being arranged. I’m handling Mister Dandridge’s affairs while he’s… he’s missing. You think Mister Grant did this? That he took Mister Dandridge?’

‘I know he did this. I’m pretty sure he killed Penny Dandridge and twelve other people. We know he created a backdoor command system in the LifeWeb core software. He would hack into it and control LifeFit, replaying an old run from the user’s stored ones and tracking them on the route they were taking.’

‘This will destroy the company. It’ll destroy Leonard. He thought of R. A. as a friend. I never quite understood why. The man was… cold. He looked at me as though I was an object.’ Corrine shuddered at the memory. ‘I caught him looking at me once, at a staff party. He looked at me as though he wanted to peel me.’

‘No one said anything? I can’t believe you were the only one.’

‘No one said anything. He was LifeWeb. It took years to get the staff together to take over from him. But I think the way he treated his own staff was one of the reasons Leonard finally agreed to move him out.’

‘You stopped calling him Mister Dandridge.’

Corrine frowned. ‘Formality seems rather pointless. Leonard and I have been friends for years. Not… close. He loved Penny.’

‘He… both of them are going to need a friend over the next few months.’

‘I’ll be there, doing what I can.’

‘Good. I’ll try to get Leonard back so he can have a friend.’

~~~

‘He’s where?!’

‘At sea,’ Jackson said.

Fox looked at Kit. ‘You found him, I take it.’

‘My colleagues and I,’ Kit replied, nodding. ‘We tracked him to a marina south of the LifeWeb Tower in the area known as Freeport. There are a number of marinas in that area. Mister Dandridge has a hydrofoil yacht moored at one of them. Marina records confirm that it is no longer moored there.’

‘Can we track it?’

‘All attempts to contact the vessel have failed. Its automated transponder has apparently been disabled.’

‘But I had an idea,’ Jackson said. ‘Apparently my brain’s woken up. We’ve got a number of satellites in orbit.’

‘Yeah, I did the induction course.’

‘Then you may recall we have a number of high-resolution mapping systems. They’re part of the monitoring project for arid regions, primarily, though they also provide dynamic updates of our navigation maps. We have a contract with the governments of a number of countries for that. There are six of them in polar orbit, and one will be over the northern Atlantic region for fifteen minutes in thirty minutes.’

Fox nodded. ‘I’m going to get Pythia airborne. You relay the position when you get it.’

‘Fox, there’s a tropical storm sweeping in from the south. He’ll be lucky if he gets through it.’

‘If he’s heading for Europe, he can keep out of its way. I need to get after him, Jackson. He’s got an eight-hour head start already. Maybe more.’

Jackson sighed. ‘Sometimes you are far too much like my daughter. You’ll need some way of getting aboard the ship, potentially in heavy seas, and a survival suit. You can wait a few minutes while I arrange that.’

‘Yeah, I can wait for that. I’m crazy, not stupid.’

Airborne over the North Atlantic.

‘I have them on radar,’ Pythia announced. ‘Thirty kilometres ahead of us and following the expected course.’

‘Heading for Bermuda,’ Fox said. ‘Bloody idiot.’

‘What does that make us?’ Kit asked.

‘Idiots determined to see justice. Or something. Okay… Pythia, take over. Take us in as low as you can. The sea is too high to drop onto the deck, so it’s Jackson’s toy. We’ll need to be low.’

‘I’ll get you as low as I can, Fox,’ Pythia replied. ‘I have control.’

Fox pushed her seat back and got to her feet. The suit Jackson had provided felt a little odd, skintight and slick to the touch, but it was guaranteed to keep her warm and came with a helmet which could provide a couple of hours of air. Supposedly it could handle light weapons fire too, but she preferred the idea of not testing that.

In the rear of the vertol, she pulled on a light, streamlined, hardshell rucksack made of similar material containing her pistol, spare magazines, and restraints. Then she put on her helmet, making sure it was sealed around her neck.

‘Pythia, once I’ve dropped, you head back. This weather’s going to get worse.’

‘I could loiter for a few minutes, Fox.’

‘Just go. There’s nothing much you can do if I run into problems anyway.’

‘Very well. We are at ten metres and down to twenty knots. Much lower and I risk hitting wave tops.’

‘Hold there as long as you can and lower the rear bay door.’

As the door dropped, Fox moved to the rear of the bay and lay down on her stomach on something that looked vaguely like a bulky stretcher with a bubble shield at the front and handlebars. Jackson claimed the sled could do fifty kilometres per hour, underwater. Well, it was going to be fun finding out.

‘Release!’ And the sled was pushed onto the ramp and began to slide. There was a sickening moment of weightlessness and then a wave came up to claim her, swallowing Fox and the sled whole. ‘Down and safe,’ Fox said, hoping the radio would penetrate the water. ‘Get out of here.’ Powering the sled’s hydrojets, she turned it and activated the in-vision sonar display.

‘Acknowledged.’ Pythia’s response was crackly, distorted, but readable.

‘Wish me luck,’ Fox muttered to herself.

‘Wish us luck,’ Kit replied. ‘Sonar shows them ahead of us, twenty kilometres, but their speed is low because of the storm. We can catch them.’

Fox poured on the power and hunkered down against the sled’s body as the water began rushing past. ‘Getting aboard is going to be the tough part. Did we get schematics?’

‘Yes.’ A wireframe of the boat appeared in Fox’s vision field beside the sonar display. ‘There is a low rear deck. You may be able to climb aboard there.’

‘In this sea? Going to be hard.’ Her gaze flicked to the sonar and then back to the schematic. ‘We’ll see when we get there.’

At two hundred metres, Fox pulled the sled upward, breaching the surface, and immediately wished she had stayed under, but she needed to see what she was going for. Even from that distance, she could see water sloshing onto the open rear platform. The vessel was a sleek, white shape in the grey of the stormy sea. She had had to throttle back to come up; the water was simply too choppy for speed. It had even forced the hydrofoil down off its planes, which was good for Fox. Making a grab for the underwater wing was an option, but not one she liked. Even at the speed the yacht was moving, it would be risky and she would lose the sled for sure.

The other option then. Fox gritted her teeth and dived, pulling the sled into a tight turn as soon as they were clear of the surface chop. ‘Okay. You’re really not going to like this. Hang on to your lunch.’

‘I don’t have any lunch to hang on to, Fox,’ Kit replied, and she sounded nervous.

‘Your metaphorical lunch then.’ Pulling the sled back into line, Fox twisted the throttle to maximum and headed straight for the back of the yacht.

‘Fox, you can’t mean to–’

‘Oh yes I can!’ At ten metres out, she pulled the nose of the sled up. Water rushed by and then vanished. There was another weightless second where blind panic threatened to grab hold and then the sled belly-flopped onto the rear deck of the yacht, sliding over the wet plastic surface until it skidded to a stop against the rear bulkhead. ‘Shit that hurt,’ Fox grumbled, but she cut the motors and got to one knee, swinging her pack off her back and popping the seal. There was every chance her landing had been heard, but equal chance that it had been dismissed as a wave hitting the hull. Her hand wrapped around her pistol’s grip and the targeting display appeared in-vision. Low-speed baton rounds loaded: she really wanted Grant alive to lock up.

There was a ladder on the bulkhead rising up to the higher deck above and she climbed it slowly, poking her pistol over the top to check ahead before climbing the rest of the way. The upper deck had a hard canopy over it, but was open at the sides. Spray washed up and in, slickening the deck under her feet, but the soles of her boots gripped remarkably well as she made her way forward to the only visible door. Her pistol showed no sign of anything warm ahead, but the walls were likely insulated. She peered in through the small window in the door, seeing a corridor and no sign of anyone. The schematic suggested that there were a couple of bunkrooms to either side of this corridor. Ahead was the main lounge and beyond that the cockpit. If no one had heard her, she figured Grant would be up there, steering the boat.

Keeping low, she opened the door and slipped inside, closing it again as quietly as possible. There was another door at the end of the corridor, but no sign of movement and no heat signatures. She scanned right and caught a weak heat source in the cabin there. Well, Grant might be there, or he could be holding Dandridge in it, if he was still alive. She moved to the door, eased the knob around, and pushed in low, her pistol rising immediately.

Leonard Dandridge was lying on the bed, a fairly narrow bunk built against the wall under a porthole. His legs were tied with a cable tie at the ankles and, from the position of his arms, his wrists were similarly restrained behind his back. A large, bright red ball gag was fixed in his mouth, and he had been stripped. There were bruises showing on his face, ribs, and arms, but Grant had not had the time yet to do much obvious damage. He was conscious, his eyes wide at the sight of her.

Fox closed the door behind her and moved over to the bed. She lifted her hand, index finger in front of where her mouth was hidden by the helmet, and he nodded. Then she undid the strap on the gag and pulled it free. Panicked and afraid, Dandridge still had the sense to stay quiet as he worked his jaw to get it back into some sort of normal shape.

‘Where is he?’ Fox asked. Her voice was muffled by the helmet, but apparently clear enough.

‘The cockpit, I think. In this weather, he should be. I told him… told him he had to take over. It got him off me. I… He…’ He swallowed, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. Fox had a sudden thought that there was one habit Grant had regarding his victims which would not leave obvious marks. ‘Chantal?’

‘We found her. She’s safe, in the medical wing in LifeWeb Tower. Corrine is watching out for her.’

A slight smile touched his lips. ‘Corrine has always been a good friend.’

‘Yeah, I gathered. Let’s get you out of here.’ Fox pulled off the right glove of her suit, leaned over him, and popped the thin, ceramic blade hidden in her hand. It made easy work of the plastic tie strip, but she noticed blood on his thighs as she was doing it. Dandridge would likely need a counsellor as much as his daughter. She cut his legs free, let the knife slide back in, and stepped back. ‘Stay here. Do not move. And no revenge after I’ve put him down. I want him alive to stand trial.’

Dandridge’s eyes hardened. ‘Death would be too easy for him.’

‘Good attitude. Hold onto it.’ Turning, Fox moved back to the door and turned the handle slowly.

The door was slammed inward, smacking into Fox’s arm and throwing her backward. Her pistol was knocked out of her hand, skittering back across the deck as she fell. Grant smacked the door against the wall, brandishing a shock rod. He looked a little bigger in person than in the stills Fox had seen, a little more muscular, heavier, and his blue eyes looked more murderous than dead. He stepped forward, raising the rod, and Fox, on her back in front of him, did what any right-thinking girl in her position would do: she kicked out. She was high for her preferred target, but he grunted and backed off.

‘Bitch!’ Grant moved in again, but now Fox had time to move. She pivoted, popping her knife as she turned and swinging the blade. It sliced through the flesh of Grant’s thigh, biting deep, and his leg went out from under him. He was still aware, still fighting: the stun rod came at Fox, but he was wide of the mark. Fox pulled her blade back and slammed her fist into his gut as he flailed with the rod, then again in the face. She felt the stun rod scrape against her leg and there was a flare of discharge, but the suit stopped it.

Backing off, Fox swept her gun off the deck and turned, lining up the laser marker on Grant’s head. ‘Keep still or I’ll put your lights out, dickhead,’ she snapped, though the effect was a little deadened by her helmet.

Grant held up his left hand and pushed himself to one knee. ‘Okay… enough.’

Fox slid the laser down to his chest. ‘Leonard, why don’t you get the restraints out of my bag and we’ll lock this bastard up.’

‘Not in my lifetime!’ Grant was pushing forward as he shouted, but Fox had seen his muscles shifting and knew what was coming. A slug of plastic slammed into his chest, bringing him to a stop and dropping him back onto the seat of his pants. Before he could make another move, she fired again and he toppled backward, the stun rod skittering over the deck down the corridor striking sparks as it went.

‘Some people just don’t know when to quit,’ Fox said, keeping her pistol on Grant as she moved closer.

‘Is he dead?’ Dandridge asked.

Fox reached down, pressing her fingers to Grant’s throat. ‘His pulse is weak. Is there a first-aid kit aboard?’

‘There’s a small medical bay below. It’s got a medical cyberframe.’

Fox was sliding a hand over Grant’s chest. ‘Good, because I think he’s got broken ribs, maybe internal bleeding. My first aid isn’t that good.’ She looked around. ‘You sure you want to put him in it?’

‘Oh yes,’ Dandridge replied, getting to his feet. ‘I want him to suffer, not take the easy way out.’

‘Right. Can you get up to the cockpit and make sure we’re not going to die ourselves? I’ll handle this prick.’

Dandridge stepped over Grant’s prone form, paused as though forcing himself not to kick the man, and then started forward. ‘My pleasure.’

Fox hefted Grant onto her shoulders and started for the lounge where the schematics said there were stairs down to the lower deck. ‘Personally,’ she said to the unconscious man, ‘I think he just proved that he’s a much better man than you are. Of course, he can likely guess you’re going to end up in Cold Harbour where you’ll never see sunlight again, so maybe he’s not.’

She located the medical bay easily, a narrow little room with barely enough space for the bed and the robot attached to the ceiling. The robot looked more like a medieval torture instrument than a life-saver, with its sharp claws for surgical work and multiple limbs. Fox considered how appropriate that was as she laid Grant down beneath it.

‘Emergency medical procedures required,’ she said, hoping the system would respond to voice command. Arms unfolded, attaching sensors. Fox watched for a second before getting out her cuffs and attaching Grant’s wrist to the side rail of the bed. ‘Maybe,’ she said, ‘if you’re really lucky, you’ll die on the table.’

Then she turned and walked out, leaving the murderer to the tender mercies of the machine.

Epilogue

Hamilton Harbour, Bermuda Free State, 29th July 2060.

Fox lifted her head and then pushed up to rest on her elbows. The sound of engines had roused her from a half-doze and she looked out across the water to see a rather large motor launch, probably capable of some ridiculous speed and way over the top for the job it was doing now, closing the distance to the yacht from the shore. Her eyes fixed on a figure standing in the cockpit and she smiled, climbing to her feet.

‘I believe,’ Kit said, ‘that Captain Deveraux is more than a little infatuated with you.’

‘This is business,’ Fox replied. ‘The UNTPP will be handling the extradition.’

‘Oh yes, and the head of their New York office was required to come out here personally to handle that.’

‘Hush you.’

Deveraux tossed a line over from the launch as it approached and Fox tied that off on a deck cleat before offering the captain a hand up onto the foredeck where she had been lying. There was another man in the motorboat who was looking on rather appreciatively. Fox hid her smirk.

‘Welcome aboard, Captain Deveraux,’ Fox said.

‘Thank you, Miss Meridian. You did not, I think, board this vessel in that costume.’

Fox let the smirk show. The swimsuit was minimal, composed of strips of purple plazkin which gave it very high hips, a very low front, and a thong back. The ‘bra,’ such as it was, was translucent with a fishnet design marked out in it. ‘I swam over to the island when the storm passed through. Told the locals why I was here, and I picked this up in a little shop near the harbour. I figured there wasn’t going to be much I could do until you got here. You like?’

‘It makes it rather difficult to maintain a professional demeanour, but yes, I like it.’

‘Well, we can’t be unprofessional. Come on inside. You must be broiling in that suit.’ She turned, padding off across the deck to the narrow walkway which led around the cockpit to a door.

Deveraux paused briefly, his eyes straying down the long length of her, down her almost entirely bare back to the thong dividing her buttocks. He shook his head and muttered, ‘Mon Dieu,’ and then followed quickly before she figured out what he was doing.

Fox smiled where Deveraux could not see it. She knew exactly what he was doing, but there was business to take care of. She pushed through into the cabin and waited for him to follow. ‘Dandridge is down in the master bedroom. I checked him over and there isn’t any permanent damage. Physical damage anyway. Grant hit him with a shock rod a couple of times. Raped him.’ She watched Dandridge’s face shift into a combination of anger and discomfort.

‘As for Grant,’ Fox went on, ‘he resisted arrest. With moderate enthusiasm. The final count was two broken ribs, lacerated thigh muscle, broken nose, bruising, and a punctured lung. Dandridge has a cyberdoc system downstairs or we’d have probably lost him. As it is, he’s stable, but he should probably be moved under medical supervision.’

Deveraux nodded. ‘The jet has a medical pod for prisoners who… resist arrest with some enthusiasm. It will take a few hours to get the paperwork organised, but the authorities here are not especially keen to be hosting a serial murderer and would rather he was out of their hair.’ He stepped closer, his hand lifting to stroke over the line of her jaw. Fox felt a little knot of lust form at the gentle gesture. ‘And you? How are you?’ Deveraux asked.

‘I’m fine. Couple of minor bruises and that was mostly from landing the sled on the rear deck. Hell on the elbows.’

He looked at her for a second. ‘You jumped a hydrojet sled onto the back of a moving yacht in a tropical storm?’

Fox adopted the best innocent expression she could manage under the circumstances. ‘It wasn’t moving very fast…’

New York Metro, 31st July.

‘Marie’s looking… enthusiastic,’ Fox commented. The household had settled into something like a normal existence. Fox was still not quite sure how she felt about Marie’s and Sam’s indiscretion, but she had Jason, had had Jason several times, and felt that she should be magnanimous, even if it killed her.

‘She got a part,’ Sam replied, ‘so she’s celebrating.’

‘By dusting things which don’t need dusting, on a Saturday, in an outfit out of a bad porn flick?’

Marie had dragged her fantasy maid’s outfit from wherever it had been hidden. The skirt was a belt and she was making sure she kept her legs straight when she bent over, which she did a lot. She had already had to rearrange her top more than once. Fox might have considered it rather cruel teasing, but the patent absurdity of the outfit was amusing, and Jason had said he would stop by in the evening.

‘We all celebrate in our own ways. I’d imagine she expects me to bend her over some furniture at some point.’

‘Personally,’ Fox said, raising her voice a little, ‘I think she needs spanking.’

Marie spun about, raising her hands and forming a perfect O of mock surprise with her painted lips. ‘Mon Dieu, Mademoiselle. Non! I am zee good girl.’

Fox stared at her. ‘Never do that in front of Jason.’ Marie giggled and went back to her dusting. ‘What’s the part?’ Fox asked Sam.

‘I’m not entirely sure. It’s an IB vid, I understand. Something involving murder and sex.’

‘Hopefully not involving a French maid.’

‘Hopefully not. It’s only on IB, not her beloved stage, but it’s a start and she’s quite hyped about it.’

‘Well, she deserves it and hopefully the experience won’t put her off the entire process.’

‘Look at her. One bad experience is not going to dent that enthusiasm.’

‘True. Sex and murder, huh? Sounds like my life.’

‘Well, hopefully you’ll have more of the former and less of the latter for a while.’

4th August.

Harper August did not look any younger; if anything, he looked a little older as though the relief which showed on his face had come at the price of the anger which had kept him going. He had… faded a little since the last time Fox had seen him.

She had delayed going to see him to ensure she knew the legal situation, and that was sewn up as well as it was going to get before the trial, which would not happen until Grant was released from medical care. But she could report to the man who had set her on the path of hunting him down and he had requested that she come to his home at her earliest opportunity. He sat behind his desk and listened in silence as she recounted what had happened.

‘So, he’s recovering. They’ve set a provisional trial date for the ninth and, with additional input from Germany and South Africa, the prosecutor is pressing for life, in Cold Harbour, without possibility of parole.’

‘The charges?’ Harper asked.

‘Thirteen counts of kidnapping and assault, twelve of murder, and one of negligent homicide because Penny Dandridge died of heart failure brought on by shock, not direct action. A further two counts of kidnapping and assault for Chantal and Leonard Dandridge. They could only definitely confirm rape in two cases, the Dandridges, but he’s down for both of those and they’re going for aggravated rape. Chantal Dandridge is going to go through Hell testifying against the bastard, but she’s determined to do it.’

‘And will he be found guilty on all of that?’

Fox gave a slight shrug. ‘We still have a jury system, but we’ve got DNA and fingerprint evidence for Lauren Coolidge and Penny Dandridge. He’s linked to that torture room of his, and there were no unknowns. He had to be the one working on them down there. We have him as the person who rigged the LifeWeb software, and we have the evidence that it was employed in all the kidnappings. Captain Deveraux got his sealed records opened, and we got a list of juvenile assaults and an attempted rape which speaks to his mental state. I believe there’s enough to get him on everything.’

Harper nodded and leaned back in his chair with a sigh. ‘You have done me, and my granddaughter, a considerable service, Miss Meridian. One I feel that my acquiescence in the prosecution of my own crimes is hardly compensation for.’

‘I didn’t do it for compensation, Mister August. If I’d known about Patricia and had some way of uncovering her killer, I’d have done so even without our deal.’

‘And that, I believe, places me even more in your debt. I understand that MarTech is in negotiations to buy out LifeWeb.’

The apparent change of subject was a little jarring. Fox raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s not been announced yet, but yes. I don’t believe it’s a secret. LifeWeb’s stock tanked when news of the charges against Grant broke. MarTech Group owns sixty-eight per cent of LifeWeb’s stock and are negotiating for the rest. Leonard Dandridge isn’t fighting it. His company’s rep is in the toilet. LifeWeb issued a patch to close the backdoor, but someone leaked that it was MarTech who created it for them.’

‘Indeed. There are rumours of the buyout floating around various circles. Those are the only thing holding LifeWeb away from total collapse. I admit to being partially responsible for LifeWeb’s predicament, Miss Meridian.’ He did not sound especially unhappy about that, but also not really happy. Fox thought ‘resigned’ might be the best description. ‘I leveraged my entire fortune when you told me of the possibility of a hack in the LifeWeb software and short sold their stock to the tune of some three hundred million dollars. I bet on your success, if you will.’

Fox blinked. ‘Uh…’

‘The proceeds come to around two hundred and ninety-four million. I’m directing the funds and a substantial amount of my own into a fund in Patricia’s name. I’ll be starting a foundation with the object of supporting the prevention, detection, and investigation of serious personal crime, and the support of victims of those crimes.’

‘That sounds… worthy.’

‘I’m glad you think so. I’d like you to consider a position as an advisor to the board.’

‘I have a job, Mister August.’

He held up a hand. ‘It would be part-time and you need not give me an answer now. Wait until everything is set up and then consider. I will have absolutely no hand in the foundation once it is initiated, so you need not worry about that. And there is one other thing.’

‘And that is?’

‘Your consultancy fee in the matter of my successful financial transaction allowing me to set the foundation up.’

‘I don’t–’

‘A sum of five point nine million dollars will be deposited into your account this afternoon. Two per cent is a fairly standard fee. My broker is getting the same. There will be an amount of tax to be paid, but what you do with the money is up to you, Miss Meridian. Invest it, give it to charity, convert it into gold and roll around on it in your bedroom, whatever you wish and none of my concern.’ An image floated through Fox’s mind of rolling around naked on a huge pile of gold coins, which would likely be uncomfortable, and she cursed the old man for giving it to her. ‘I would urge you to consider that financial independence, even when you love the work you do, can be a very useful thing. Consider that before you give it away in disgust at the source.’

‘I… don’t know what to say. Thank you?’

A weak but genuine smile broke out on Harper August’s face. ‘I accept your thanks, but they are entirely unnecessary, Miss Meridian. You provided me with closure and Patricia with the one thing I could never get her, justice.’

Alexandria, Niflhel.

Kit’s back arched in a posture Fox was sure would have snapped a real woman’s spine. The kitsune shook, her legs twitching on Fox’s shoulders. Kit’s shoulders were on the bed while Fox held her hips up, Fox’s face buried in her friend’s sweet, wet sex. Kit’s hands clenched convulsively in the sheets of the little bed in Fox’s room, and there was the tail, flicking wildly, dashing across Fox’s belly in a manner that was more of a turn-on than Fox would have expected. Kit’s body stiffened and she let out a long squeal of delight, and then she went limp.

Fox lowered Kit to the bed, careful of her tail, and then crawled up to lie beside her. Because she felt like it, Fox reached up and began to gently caress one of Kit’s breasts. Kit squirmed at the touch, but she was slowly coming down.

‘Was that my reward for finding Mister Dandridge?’ Kit asked after a few seconds.

‘That, and I’ve got a virtual training program you can use to learn to drive the Q-bug. No driving the real thing until you pass the test at the end.’

Kit giggled. ‘You are very good to me. Many AIs would count themselves lucky to have such a caring owner. What is worrying you?’

‘Why should something be worrying me?’

‘That is what I wish to know. I catch you looking distracted. I believe it is since we visited Mister August. However, there is also the passage of the private policing resolution.’

‘Yeah, there’s that, but that just means hard work and more politics. No, it’s the money. I’m going to be stupid rich if I keep it.’

‘I am unsure of the definition of “stupid rich.” However, after taxes, you will net some four point nine five million. Invested conservatively, this would result in around an extra forty-one thousand dollars per month. While substantial, this does not place you into the ranks of the mega-rich: you simply have a large available cash supply, should you need it. You could, as Mister August implied, be financially independent, if that were something you wanted.’

‘Oh… You did some research while I was worried about being a millionaire.’

‘I thought it might be prudent.’

Fox grinned, leaned forward, and kissed Kit’s cheek. ‘What would I do without you?’ She kissed again, at the joint of neck and jaw. Her hand began to slide over skin once more.

‘I am… sure you would… Fox, I’ve had my… my reward.’

‘Yeah,’ Fox said, ‘so this is just because you’re my gorgeous assistant.’

Kit let out a whimper. ‘I don’t think I can object to that.’ So she did not.

###

About the Author

I was born in the vicinity of Hadrian's Wall so perhaps a bit of history rubbed off. Ancient history obviously, and border history, right on the edge of the Empire. I always preferred the Dark Ages anyway; there’s so much more room for imagination when people aren’t writing down every last detail. So my idea of a good fantasy novel involved dirt and leather, not shining plate armour and Hollywood-medieval manners. The same applies to my sci-fi, really; I prefer gritty over shiny.

Oddly, then, one of the first fantasy novels I remember reading was The Dark Is Rising, by Susan Cooper (later made into a terrible juvenile movie). These days we would call Cooper’s series Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy and looking back on it, it influenced me a lot. It has that mix of modern day life, hidden history, and magic which failed to hit popular culture until the early days of Buffy and Anne Rice. Of course, Cooper’s characters spend their time around places I could actually visit in Cornwall, and South East England, and mid-Wales. In fact, when I went to university in Aberystwyth, it was partially because some of Cooper’s books were set a few miles to the north around Tywyn.

I got into writing through roleplaying, however, so my early work was related to the kind of roleplaying game I was interested in. I wrote science fiction when I was playing Traveller. I wrote “high fantasy” when I was playing Dungeons & Dragons. I wrote a lot of superhero fiction when I was playing City of Heroes. I still love the idea of a modern world with magic in it and I’ve been trying to write a novel based on this for a long time. As with any form of expression, practice is the key and I can look back on all the aborted attempts at books, and the more successful short stories, as steps along the path to the Thaumatology Series.

Recently I took the big step of quitting my day job and taking up full-time writing. My favourite authors are Terry Pratchett, Susan Cooper, J.D. Robb, and Kim Harrison. Kim’s Hollows books were what finally spurred me to publish something, even if the trail to here came by way of Susan, back in school, several decades ago.

For More Information

Take a look at the Witches and Ray-guns blog: http://witchesandrayguns.wordpress.com

Other Books by this Author

Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B006J6II9O

Amazon.co.uk: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B006J6II9O

The Thaumatology Series

Thaumatology 101

Demon’s Moon

Legacy

Dragon’s Blood

Disturbia

Hammer of Witches

Eagle’s Shadow

Ancient

Dragonfall

The Other Side of Hell

For Whom the Wedding Bells Toll

Vengeance

Anthologies in the Thaumatology Universe

Tales from High Towers’ Study

Tales from the Dubh Linn

The Aneka Jansen Books

Steel Beneath The Skin

The Cold Steel Mind

Steel Heart

The Winter War

The Greatest Heights of Honour

The Lowest Depths of Shame

Hope

The Ultrahuman Books

Ugly

Shadows

The Unobtainium Books

Kate on a Hot Tin Roof

The Reality Hack Books

Reality Hack

The Fox Meridian Books

Fox Hunt

Inescapable

DeathWeb

Table of Contents

Part One: Memories

Part Two: The Future of Murder

Part Three: Dust, Sweat, and Tears

Part Four: We Hurt the Ones We Love

Part Five: Storms and High Seas

Epilogue