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"Rig option," she announced. "Ain't it nice when the info ya buy is right?" Her partners didn't bother to answer her question,

but she didn't seem to mind as she settled into the stillwarm chair. In thirty seconds she had jacked in and switched the security system management over to rigger control.

Sam had never understood how a rigger made the translation between body sense and the diverse components of a building's systems. Rigger security control was even more alien than the way they piloted vehicles. "Nothing to it," she had said when he proposed the raid. "It's just like a big body; ya get itches where something's happening." The concept was creepy to Sam. It lacked the purity of the Matrix or even the more understandable body-control concept of vehicle rigging. But Sam didn't have to understand or like it. It was Willie's job\a151all Sam had to do was count on her to do it right.

"What's going on in the residence?" he asked. "Quiet," she replied. "I don't think anybody's home."

' 'And no signs of recent occupation,'' Dodger added confidently.

"Wrongo, elf. Plenty of signs: dirty dishes, rumpled bed, private line call logged out less than two hours ago. But nobody's there… wait a min. There's something funny about that level." "Looped broadcast?" Sam suggested. "Neg. All eyes are live. But they're not seeing everything."

"Alternate sensors tracking something?" "Neg on that. There aren't alternate systems anywhere but on this level. I think… yeah, it's got to be. There's part of this level that isn't covered by the security system." "A black room?" Sam speculated. "Could be." Willie agreed. "Looks like you two will be doing an in-person visit after all." "Thrilling," Dodger said.

"You can handle the locks, Willie?" "Null perspiration. You want to go up by lift or stairs?"

"Stairs. More options for retreat." "Allow me," she said. Across the lobby a doorway opened. Through the arch, Sam could see stairs.

He tapped Dodger on the shoulder and started for the stairs. Sam could hear the elf grumbling under his breath as he followed. The unprofessional bitching stopped as they reached the landing below HydeWhite's residence. Guns ready, they advanced up the last flight. When Sam signaled their readiness to the stairway camera, Willie opened the door. Dodger went through low while Sam covered him. They got the drop on an empty room. When nothing reacted to their presence, Sam said softly, "You there, Willie?"

"Affirm." Her voice came from the building intercom speaker. "I see you but they won't. I dumped a copy of an all-camera scan, just in case we need to know the layout of the place for some future op, and I'm using it to run refeed on the room cameras from the five minutes before you got there. If anybody notices, it'll look like a digital overprint. Just let me know if you need more time. But try to be quick, a second blip'll start looking suspicious." "We'll do that. Now where's this blind spot?" Hyde-White's residential level was made up of a bewildering arrangement of spaces demarcated by freestanding walls and half-walls and room dividers. There were also several spaces which were completely enclosed. Willie directed them as well as she could, but it still took them five minutes to isolate the area that was in the rigger's blind spot. Dodger found the door hidden behind a tapestry.

"Sir Twist," his muffled voice called. "You must needs see what I have found."

Sam pulled aside the tapestry preparatory to entering the hidden chamber and immediately felt the tingle of magic. Warily, he leaned against the outer wall and probed with his astral senses. The room was surrounded by the rosy glow of an astral barrier. Something coiled about the top of the domed-shaped protection, but it seemed inactive. Sam sensed no threat from it. Concluding that the ward was only a protection from astral intrusion, Sam returned to his mundane senses and probed the open doorway with a tentative hand. Nothing happened, so he followed Dodger into the chamber.

The stench was the first thing he noticed. The place smelled as though something had died there. Rotting meat was Sam's first thought, but the temperature was so low that meat would have been unlikely to spoil. Sam was already chilled despite his winter clothes.

The room was only a few meters across, but it was jammed with an eclectic collection of furniture and artifacts. Dodger was poking about among the jackdaw's nest of furnishings and decorations, but Sam paid him no heed. His eyes were locked on a large oil portrait of a woman that dominated the wall opposite the doorway.

"Quite attractive for a norm," Dodger commented when he noticed Sam's fixed stare.

"Janice," was all Sam could say.

"Find anything interesting?" Dodger reached for his Sandier as soon as he recognized the voice, but she was faster. She snatched the weapon from his fingers before he could get a grip. He kicked the chair back as he stood, but she skipped clear. He spun, hoping to get inside her aim, but again she was too quick for him. He eased back against the table, forcing his muscles to relax. Elven reflexes weren't good enough to dodge bullets at this range.

Hart smiled at him. "Much more reasonable reaction."

"What do you want?"

"To talk."

"That is obvious. Else, I would not be breathing." She shrugged and lowered the muzzle of the Sandier, but Dodger felt tension in her still. Gauging the distance between them, he briefly entertained the idea of a move, before dismissing it as foolish. He'd seen her in action and knew he wasn't her match. She would be ready for anything he tried.

"Speak, then. You have captured my attention." She hesitated before saying, "I want to offer my help."

Was she serious? After what she had done to him, how could she expect Sam to let her anywhere near him? "He doesn't trust you anymore. I don't either." Her smile was sad. "You should understand how compelling previous arrangements can be, Dodger. Have you told him who had you get him involved in this mess, or that you're still passing his plans on to Estios?"

"You didn't tell him, did you?"

"Not yet, but I could."

She gripped the Sandier by its barrel, carefully lowered it to the floor, and leaned it against the wall, and stepped away from the weapon. Her actions were likely intended as a sign of her peaceful intent and meant to reduce the tension between her and Dodger. He found himself considering her motivations, and the possibilities only made him more nervous.

"We can help each other, Dodger." "If you really want to help, you'll go back where you came from. He's screwed up enough now as it is." Her brow furrowed. "What's happened? Is he hurt?"

Her concern seemed genuine, but she was a good actress. She had thoroughly fooled Sam. He considered the wisdom of telling her what was wrong with Sam, and decided that her reaction might provide a clue to the motivation behind her recent actions. If not, there was the slim chance that she might have some data that applied to the riddle of the painting.

"There was a picture of a norm woman in Hyde White's sanctum. He said it was his sister."

She grasped the situation at once. "A norm woman? I thought she had goblinized. When was the painting made?"

"The date within the artist's cartouche was mis year's."

"And the artist?"

"His identity is a mystery."

"So what have you been doing?" "He's been brooding when he hasn't been rerunning the tapes we got of Hyde-White's apartment. I've been trying to break into the OWN personnel files." "With no luck, I expect."

He was annoyed by her casual assumption of lack of progress. "I am the Dodger. It is only a matter of time."

"Isn't it always."

She reached into her satchel, and he tensed again. She offered him a tentative smile along with a raised hand. Her other hand slowly emerged from the bag, holding a slim black chip case. Dodger relaxed as she opened the case and selected an unmarked chip carrier. When she held it out, he recognized the molding as UCAS government issue.