“Yes,” Logos put in. “You were.” And the AI might have said more, but Rebo had come under attack by a pair of mimes, while Hoggles was staggering about with three acrobats on his back. That left Norr to deal with the strongman alone, or try to, since the matchup was anything but fair. She attempted to backpedal, but wasn’t able to do so quickly enough, and soon found herself wrapped within the embrace of the weightlifter’s huge arms. Muscles writhed, all the air was forced out of the variant’s lungs, and she was just about to lose consciousness when Logos came to her defense. Or his defense, since that was the AI’s actual priority, consistent with his programming.
Suddenly, just as the heavily muscled norm felt the woman in his arms go limp, the surface of her dress delivered 775,000 volts of electricity directly into the strongman’s body! He let go of his victim, fell over backward, and hit the ground hard. Norr collapsed a few feet away. Having dispatched both mimes and a clown, Rebo was there to scoop Norr up and throw the sensitive over his shoulder. Then, as Hoggles threw an acrobat at a group of bellicose musicians, the off-worlders started to back away. And because the crowd was pelting the circus performers with food, none of the troupe was able to follow. Norr, who had recovered her senses by then, made use of both fi?sts to pound on Rebo’s back. “Put me down, damn you!”
The runner made sure he was well up into the seats before acceding to the sensitive’s demand. “There,” Rebo said, as he placed the young woman on her feet. “You’re welcome.”
“No you’re not,” Logos put in resentfully. “Don’t ever do that again!”
Norr wanted to sound angry, if only to maintain an appearance of independence, but the fact that her dress was talking back to her made that hard to do. She laughed, Rebo joined in, and Hoggles rumbled loudly. Then, having passed an interesting if not especially relaxing evening, the threesome hired one of the many torchbearers who were waiting outside and followed the boy home. Having sent Dyson into the runner’s guild to investigate, and having confi?rmed that a sensitive and two male companions had checked in, Shaz knew that the troublesome trio were right where he expected them to be. However, because the runner’s guild had excellent security, it soon became obvious that there was only one member of the team who was likely to get inside the facility, and that was the combat variant himself. So Shaz sent the rest of the team away, chose a vantage point in the shadows opposite the guildhall, and waited for his chance. Despite the fact that his built-in camoufl?age was good, it wasn’t perfect, which meant the guards would spot the operative if he were to walk in through the door. But if there was a distraction, something to claim at least some of their attention, then the variant stood an excellent chance of slipping past them. Once inside, Shaz felt confi?dent of his ability to locate and enter the correct room. And, if the subjects of his investigation were present? Then he would wait, and wait some more if that was necessary, because he was nothing if not patient. Which was fortunate, because the better part of an hour was to pass before the combat variant heard the rattle of an approaching carriage and saw the conveyance pull into the brightly lit area in front of the hall. There was no way to know who the passenger or passengers were, but they must have been important, because once the doorman blew his brass whistle, all manner of staff boiled out to greet the newly arrived guest or guests. Which was exactly what Shaz had been hoping for. In their eagerness to catch a glimpse of the woman who was exiting the coach, the guards missed the momentary shimmer associated with the operative’s passing and remained unaware as the variant made his way across the lobby toward the front desk. The next part was somewhat tricky, because even though Shaz knew the people he was interested in were staying at the hall, he had no idea which room or rooms they were in. So, conscious of the fact that the hustle and bustle associated with the VIP’s arrival wouldn’t last much longer, the variant made his way around the end of the counter, and sidled up behind the burly receptionist. His opportunity came as the newly arrived guest made her grand entrance. Whereas most runners preferred to maintain a low profi?le, lest they be targeted by members of the thief’s guild, this individual was an extremely obvious exception. She wore a glittery headband, complete with a red feather, and a bright green dress, all meant to impress her upscale clientele, or so Shaz assumed. But, rather than ogle the woman’s considerable cleavage, as the receptionist was doing, the operative examined the guestbook instead. And, when he couldn’t fi?nd what he sought, Shaz had to fl?ip the current page out of the way in order to inspect previous entries. That was when the variant saw Rebo’s signature, followed by Norr’s, and the nearly illegible scrawl that probably belonged to the heavy. Shaz took in the fact that the threesome had taken suite 303, and was already backing away, when the receptionist turned to pull the guestbook over in front of him. He noticed that the ledger was turned to the wrong page, assumed that an errant breeze had been responsible for the change, and wondered what the woman in front of him would look like naked.
A scant fi?ve minutes later the combat variant had climbed three fl?ights of stairs, made his way down a long hall, and was standing with his ear to a door with the numerals 303 on it. Then, having waited for a full minute without hearing any activity within, Shaz made use of a pick to open the lock. Having glanced both ways to make sure the hall was clear, the variant pushed the door open and slipped into the room. Once inside, the operative discovered that the suite was not only dark but momentarily empty, which suited his purposes well. The possibility that the AI was there, resting within a few feet of him, caused the variant’s heart to beat faster. The search began. Rebo yawned as he led the other two up the broad fl?ight of stairs, tried to remember which room he and Crowley had stayed in thirty years earlier, and couldn’t. Once on the third fl?oor he turned to the right. Wall-mounted lamps marked off regular intervals and threw pools of light onto the fl?oor. Once in front of 303, the runner inserted his key into the lock and turned it. The door swung open. The next couple of minutes were spent fumbling with matches and fi?nicky lamps. “Bring them to me,” Norr offered, having mastered the process. “And I’ll light them for you.”
Hoggles nodded gratefully, went to remove one of the lamps from a wall bracket, and swore when it burned his fi?ngers. “Damn! That thing is hot!”
Rebo frowned, slid his hand in under his jacket, and wrapped his fi?ngers around the Crosser. “Hot? Why would it be hot?”
“Because it was lit,” Logos grated contemptuously. “Check the bedrooms. I predict that someone came to turn the beds down.”
“He’s right,” Norr confi?rmed, as she peered into her room. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep.”
Having taken refuge in one corner of the sitting room, Shaz stood perfectly still and strove to defocus his mind. Because just as combat variants had been provided with the means to fool the eye, they had also been equipped to evade detection by sensitives, but only if they exercised perfect control over both their thoughts and emotions. Now, having discovered that Norr not only had the AI, but was wearing the device, the operative was hard-pressed to contain a sense of jubilation. Fortunately, there were things to worry about as well—which meant Shaz could use one emotion to counter the other. What to do? Attack the threesome and attempt to steal what he had come for, or escape and follow them? Though of value to the Techno Society in and of himself, Logos would be worth even more if they knew where Socket was, and given his present frame of mind, the AI wasn’t likely to tell them.