Deep in thought, she stepped out on thirty-nine, scanned the shielded glass walls of a lab. It was quiet here, security in full swing as indicated by the cameras in full view, the warning red beep of motion detectors. If there were any drones still at work, they were behind closed doors.
She placed her palm on a plate, received verification, answered the request for voice print by giving her name, then requested the location of Reeanna's office.
You are cleared for top level, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. Proceed left through breezeway, then right at termination. Dr. Ott's office is five meters beyond this point. It will not be necessary to repeat this procedure to gain entry. You are cleared.
She wondered if Roarke or Reeanna had cleared her through and followed the directions. The breezeway impressed her, offering a full view of the city on all sides. She could look between her own feet and see the life bustling on the street below. The music piped in was energetic, and made her think sourly of some musicologist's idea of fueling drones with enthusiasm for their work. Wasn't that just one more kind of mind control?
She passed a door bearing an imprint that identified it as William's. A game master, she thought. It might be helpful to get his input, pick his brain, jiggle a few hypotheses out of him. She knocked, watched his recorder light beep red for locked.
I'm sorry, William Shaffer is not currently in his office. Please leave your name and any message. He will respond as soon as possible.
"It's Dallas. Look, William, if you've got a couple minutes when you finish dinner, I've got something I'd like to run by you. I'm going to drop by Reeanna's office now. I'll leave a memo if she's not there. I'll be in the building or at home later if you've got time to talk to me."
As she turned away, she glanced at her watch. How long did it take to eat, for God's sake? You picked up food, put it in your mouth, chewed, and swallowed.
She found Reeanna's office, knocked. She hesitated for less than five seconds when the recorder light beeped green, then slid the door open. If Reeanna didn't want her inside, she'd have kept it locked, Eve decided, and indulged herself in a thorough study.
It looked like Reeanna, she decided. Polished to a bright sheen, underlying sexual tones in the slashes of fiery red in the laser art against cool white walls.
The desk faced the window to provide Reeanna with a constant view of the busy sky traffic.
The sitting area was plush with a deeply cushioned body-form lounger that still held the imprint of its last occupant. Reeanna's curves were impressive, even in silhouette. The clear Plasticide table was hard as stone and was intricately carved with diamond patterns that caught and refracted the light from an arched-neck lamp with a rose-toned shade.
Eve picked up the VR goggles laid on it, saw they were indeed Roarke's latest model, and set them down again. They still made her uncomfortable.
Turning away, she studied the workstation across the room. Nothing soft or feminine about that area, she noted. It was all business. Slick white counter, muscle flexing equipment even now hard at work. She heard the low hum of a computer on auto, frowned at the symbols flickering on the monitor. They looked similar to what she'd tried to decipher from Roarke's screen.
But then, computer codes all looked the same to her.
Curious, she walked over to the desk, but nothing interesting had been left out to examine. A silver pen, a pair of pretty gold earrings, a hologram of William wearing a flight suit and grinning youthfully. A short printout, again in that baffling computer code.
Eve sat on the edge of the desk. She didn't want to fit her wiry build into the imprint left by Reeanna's. Pulling out her communicator, she tagged Peabody.
"Anything?"
"Devane's son is willing to cooperate. He's aware of the interest she had in games, particularly role playing. It wasn't an interest he shared, but he claims he knows one of her usual partners. He dated her for a short time. I've got her name. She lives right here in New York. I have the data. Should I transmit?"
"I think you can handle an interview solo. Arrange a meet, bring her in only if she refuses to cooperate. Report back."
"Yes, sir." Peabody's voice remained sober, but her eyes lighted with the assignment. "I'm on my way."
Satisfied, Eve tried for Feeney, hit his frequency occupied recording. She had to settle for leaving a request for contact.
The door opened. Reeanna stopped her rush inside when she spotted Eve at her desk. "Oh, Eve. I didn't expect you quite yet."
"Time's part of my problem."
"I see." She smiled, let the door shut. "I suppose Roarke cleared you in."
"I guess he did. Problem?"
"No, no." Reeanna waved her hand. "I'm distracted, I suppose. William went on endlessly about some glitches he's concerned about. I left him brooding over his creme brulee." She flicked a glance toward her humming computer. "The work never stops around here. R and D's a twenty-four/seven proposition." She smiled. "Like police work, I imagine. Well, I didn't take time for brandy. Would you like some?"
"No, thanks. On duty."
"Coffee then." Reeanna moved over to a counter, requested a snifter of brandy, a cup of black coffee. "You'll have to excuse my lack of focus. We're a little behind schedule today. Roarke needed data on the new VR model, and he wanted it from conception to implementation."
"That was yours. I didn't realize that until he mentioned it just now."
"Oh, William's mostly. Though I had a small part. Now." She handed Eve the coffee, then took her brandy around the desk to sit. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm hoping you'll agree to that consult. The subject is currently in custody, now lawyered, but I don't think we'll be blocked there. I need a profile, angling from your particular area of expertise."
"Genetic branding." Reeanna tapped her fingers. "Interesting. What are the charges?"
"I'm not free to discuss that until I have your agreement and clear the session with my commander. Once that's done, I'd like the testing scheduled for seven hundred."
"Seven a.m.?" Reeanna winced. "Ouch. And here I'm a night owl rather than a lark. You want me up and running at that hour, give me some incentive." She smiled a little. "I can assume you've already had Mira test your subject – and the results weren't to your liking."
"Second opinions aren't unusual." It was a defensive answer. She felt defensive. And, Eve realized, she felt guilty.
"No, but Dr. Mira's reports are sterling, and they're very rarely questioned. You want him badly."
"I want the truth badly. To find it, I have to separate theory and lies and deceptions." She pushed off the desk. "Look, I thought you were interested in doing this sort of thing."
"I am, very. But I like to know what I'm dealing with. I'd need the subject's brain scan."
"I've got it. In evidence."
"Really?" Her eyes gleamed, catlike. "It's also important to have all available data on his biological parents. Are they known?"
"We accessed that data for Dr. Mira's test. It'll be available to you."
Reeanna leaned back, swirling her brandy. "It must be murder." Her lips twitched at Eve's expression. "After all, that's your field. The study of the taking of lives."
"You could put it that way."
"How do you put it?"
"The investigation of the takers."
"Yes, yes, but in order to do so, you study the dead – and death itself. How it happened, what caused it, what transpired in those last moments between the taker and the victim. Fascinating. What kind of personality is required to study death routinely, day after day, year after year, as a vocation? Does it scar you, Eve, or harden you?"
"It pisses you off," she said shortly. "And I don't have time to philosophize."
"Sorry, bad habit." Reeanna let out a sigh. "William tells me I analyze everything to death." She smiled. "Not that it's a crime – that sort of murder. And I am interested in assisting you. Call your commander," she invited. "I'll wait and see if clearance is forthcoming. Then we can go over details."