Silverfox 09

Story by Nathan Cowan on SoFurry

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#9 of Silverfox


Silverfox 09

Silverfox was quiet. It didn't look exactly like the one from the boat; the buttons were concave, a common feature in electronics designed to be worked with claws. Otherwise, it was the same device.

"What's wrong?" Cheshire asked.

"Nothing," Silverfox whispered. She was staring. She needed an alibi. She ran a hand over Cheshire's breasts. "They're beautiful." She pushed Cheshire's breasts together, ran her thumbs over her nipples. They were getting hard.

Cheshire licked her lip with pleasure and she closed her eyes as Silverfox's mind raced. Her first instinct was to barge in on Technofox and Firefox, screaming.

Chemicals flooded her system; she rode them like a surfer rides a wave.

She had to stay cool, to be as calm and thoughtful as she was when she was aiming a gun at someone who was trying to shoot her, and she had two or maybe three trigger pulls, and every one had to score.

Either Cheshire didn't know what it was, or she didn't know Foxforce knew. There was no way Cheshire would let Silverfox see it otherwise. And she had lain there, smiling and expectant, as Silverfox opened her shirt. Even now, the jaguar was relaxed, clearly enjoying herself.

"What's that?" Silverfox asked. "Some sort of remote control?"

"It's a key," Cheshire said. "From Blue Diamond." She said it smoothly, without hesitating.

Silverfox took off her shirt. Cheshire's eyes dropped to her breasts, casually, a woman with a lover, not at all like she was anxious or afraid. Silverfox rested herself on her, kissed and licked at her muzzle, then rolled over and raised her up, so the jaguar straddled her. Silverfox ran her hands over Cheshire's breasts; she arched her back and shoulders and let the feeling flow over her. She wasn't acting like she was hiding it.

"Oh. Why'd you keep it?" Silverfox asked lazily.

"I don't know, really," Cheshire said. "It was really important there. Tigre would slam you around if you didn't keep it safe and I guess I sort of..." she shrugged, helplessly. "You know, you get into habits. Can we change the subject?"

"Yeah," Silverfox said, with a nod. She took a deep breath. This next bit would be like pulling a tablecloth.

She moved her hands onto the lanyard and lifted, pulling the gadget up over Cheshire's head, tugging when it caught in a cornrow.

"Hey," Cheshire said, irritated and a little shocked. She slapped at the braid but she didn't grab for the gadget.

Her eyes followed it, locking onto it.

"Excuse me," Silverfox said lightly, and squirmed out from under her.

"That's mine," Cheshire said.

"I know," Silverfox clicked a switch on her neural interface. It opened her gun safe. Silverfox tossed the gadget in before turning around.

"C'mon," Cheshire said. "Give it back."

"Just locking it up," she said. "For all I know, Chantal might be a thief."

"Able to sneak in here and --" Cheshire started.

Silverfox closed the safe and held the door shut as bolts slid into place. "Even if she can, it won't help her." She shook her head. "No sense having a safe if you don't use it." Silverfox did her best to look bemused, and maybe a little irritated, as though Cheshire were overreacting. "I'm not going to steal it," she said, although that was the plan.

Cheshire was on all fours in the bed, looking past Silverfox at the safe. Silverfox smiled. "Where were we?" she said, hoping to distract her.

"I would like it back, please," Cheshire said calmly, forming every word. "This isn't funny, and I'm getting pissed off."

Silverfox didn't reply. She had her email interface up.

Oh, crap. She couldn't say "Cheshire has a 4094 Gadget" in an email. '4094' had to be on a list of monitored phrases.

Cheshire swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She didn't do up her shirt; she sat there quietly, looking at Silverfox. Why wasn't the jaguar ripping into her verbally?

"You know what it is, don't you?" Cheshire said, finally.

Silverfox didn't reply. That just made it more obvious, she knew, but she couldn't force out a bewildered look of incomprehension.

"Don't you?" Cheshire repeated.

Silverfox nodded. "Why did you have it with you?" Silverfox asked.

Cheshire stiffened. "I wasn't going to use it on you."

"Okay," Silverfox said. "I believe you."

"I could have kept you from seeing it," Cheshire insisted.

"That's why I believe you." Silverfox sat down in a chair. "I think you need to tell me about it."

Cheshire hesitated a moment, and nodded.

"The Tamers were issued these," she said. "They're used to erase memories of training sessions gone wrong, of jobs that might ... push a girl too far."

"What sort of jobs?" Silverfox asked.

Cheshire looked away. "Like rape fantasy." She blanched. "No, sorry, that's what they called it there and that's what I'm used to calling it--"

"Whatever," Silverfox snapped.

"Some clients want the girl to fight," Cheshire explained. "And they don't want the girl to break. So you let them at her and ..." she pointed at the gun safe. "And then you have her cleaned and shoot her up with trauma drugs."

"And she's fresh as a daisy for the next client," Silverfox said.

Cheshire nodded.

"Which girls?" Silverfox asked. "Technofox? Firefox?"

"Not Technofox," Cheshire replied immediately. "Technofox has the schoolgirl thing going for her. They wanted her ... compliant fast." She swallowed. "If you're taming a girl, you want her to remember."

"And what about Firefox?" Silverfox asked.

Cheshire looked away.

"You better tell me," Silverfox said.

"Firefox," Cheshire said. "The first couple of weeks, they kept her apart from you. We --"

Cheshire fell silent.

"You?" Silverfox asked.

"It wasn't my idea," Cheshire said.

Silverfox moved her jaw.

"You were there too," Cheshire blurted out. "You know it was do the job or take her place." She shook her head. "And what I saw them do to her ... I couldn't." Her voice was shaking. "For God's sake, if they wanted to scare a girl they made her watch and then clean her up --"

"They," Silverfox said flatly.

"Fine," Cheshire hissed. "Us. Tamers. I'm sorry I didn't let them do it to me. I'm sorry they scared me. Fuck you."

"Maybe Firefox remembers you from that," Silverfox speculated.

Cheshire trembled. "For God's sake," she said. "Stop. You're putting me back somewhere I don't want to be."

"What if Firefox passed out?" Silverfox asked. Her voice was rough. She coughed to clear it. "Wouldn't she remember what happened before that?"

"She was monitored," Cheshire said. "Her life signs. There was ... someone was there to intervene, to keep her conscious. Make the clients back off. Shoot her up with a stimulant."

"So you didn't let her pass out," Silverfox said. "And at the end, you'd clean her up, and push the reset button."

"Yes," Cheshire admitted.

Silverfox swallowed twice. It's not like Cheshire enjoyed it.

"Why did they put her back with us?" Silverfox asked.

Cheshire grimaced. "Because it made you happier."

"What?" Silverfox asked, bewildered.

Cheshire pressed her lips together. "Blue wouldn't let it go on forever." Cheshire looked at Silverfox. "I don't know if you'll believe me, but Blue needed the women to thank it. Through Master." She swallowed. "I don't get it, but Master would take me to bed, and I'd have to keep telling him how much the girls all loved him, how happy we were. I mean, when I was alone with one of his meat puppets I'd play with myself to make it think I was just that happy to be with him." She rolled her eyes in disgust. "What the fuck's the point? We spent the day fucking for it, and as a reward we got to fuck its meat puppets?"

"Blue wanted Firefox to thank it for putting her in Blue Diamond," Silverfox said. She closed her mouth. That fit what Jerry had told her. "Blue needed Firefox to say she was okay with it."

Cheshire looked thoughtful. "Right," she said, finally.

"Why did you keep that thing?" Silverfox asked.

Cheshire shrugged and laughed once. "Why not?" she asked. "I mean, I could always get rid of it."

Cheshire looked at Silverfox squarely. "You know, the day Walton was shot, I overslept too."

"Really?" Silverfox asked.

"So did you use one on me?" Cheshire asked. "To keep me asleep longer?"

"No," Silverfox said, a little surprised. She scratched her chin. "You can use these to make chimerae sleep?"

"...Yes," Cheshire said, slowly. She hesitated. "Sort of. 4094 sort of ... resets your brain back to the state it was in when you were last asleep. Any memories since then are lost. So since your brain is in a sleeping state, you go back to sleep. That normally lasts maybe fifteen seconds, but you can pass a parameter to it to keep you asleep for up to twelve hours." She paused. "Did they ever slap something on you and tell you it was a remote-controlled drug injector?"

"No." Wait -- "They did on Firefox, though."

"It might have been a 4094 gadget," Cheshire said. "At least, it was if it was on her collar or in a headband. They also had these armbands which really were loaded with drugs."

"What else can the gadget do?" Silverfox asked.

"Well, you can set up fairly complicated programs," Cheshire explained. "You can do things like, wait five hours, then run 4094. Or wait until six o'clock and then run 4094, and keep you asleep until seven o'clock."

"How much range does it have?" Silverfox asked.

"Ten centimeters," Cheshire said.

Silverfox was dubious. "That sounds very precise. Can that be boosted?"

"Oh for --" Cheshire gritted her teeth. "Look, if this thing could be used at range, Blue Diamond would have been set up to use 4094 on any chimera in the place. They wouldn't have needed to give me this thing and explain how it worked."

"So you can't use a big transmitter to cover a wide area," Silverfox frowned. "Why not? If it's a radio signal."

"Beats me," the jaguar said with a shrug.

"Did Lilith have one?" Silverfox asked.

Cheshire hesitated. "She had access to one," she said. "She might not have had it on her when Blue Diamond caught fire, though."

Lilith had committed suicide with a grenade after Technofox thwarted a kidnap attempt on Shadowfox. So, Silverfox thought, maybe Lilith had one on her and the police concealed it. Maybe the grenade destroyed it. Maybe the gadget was in her van when it caught fire. Maybe she left hers in Blue Diamond. Maybe it was still out there.

Silverfox nodded. She put out her hand. "Let's get dressed and go."

"Where?" Cheshire asked, her voice guarded.

Silverfox smiled to soften it. "To talk with Tech and Fire." She grabbed her cell phone and flipped it open. She created an email to Firefox and Technofox, Medium Priority, which meant "stop screwing but don't grab a gun." She hesitated over the wording.

"Cheshire and I will be dropping by soon to talk it over," she wrote finally. Yes, that was perfect. An outsider would assume that it was a cap to another conversation; Tech and Fire would be confused but they might read between the lines.

Cheshire looked uncertain. Silverfox glanced at her. "The sooner you tell her the better," Cheshire said.

"Do we have to tell Firefox about ...?" Cheshire asked, trailing off.

Silverfox looked up. She was about to say yes, but...

"I won't bring it up," she muttered.

Cheshire nodded, gratefully.

Silverfox knocked on the bedroom door. "Come in," Firefox said, voice relaxed.

They were in bathrobes, and they had more or less made their bed. Technofox was sitting at the desk. She had brought up a battery of programs, search agents, notepad, organizer; she sat ready to take the conversation and turn it into a string of action items and notes and search agent requests.

Silverfox closed the door behind her and stepped close to Cheshire. She rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Cheshire has a 4094 gadget," Silverfox said. "She got it in Blue Diamond."

Technofox glanced at Firefox, stunned.

"Where is it now?" Firefox asked.

"In my gun safe," Silverfox said.

"Good," Firefox said bluntly.

Technofox blinked and looked at Firefox for guidance. Something flickered across Firefox's face.

"Anything you can tell us is a lot more important to me than getting back at you," Firefox said. She looked at Cheshire directly. "As far as I'm concerned, you've got amnesty for anything you talk about here. We'll cover for you if you confess to anything illegal. Anything we find out after this conversation may be used against you. Understand?"

"Yes. Thank you," Cheshire said.

Firefox looked away. "This might be your best chance to come clean," she said.

"Yes..." Cheshire began. She bit her lip. "4094 was used on you in Blue Diamond. You personally, Firefox. I don't know if it was used on the others --"

"All right," Firefox said. She swallowed. "That's not important for now." She glanced at Technofox. "Tech has some technical questions, appropriately."

"...Not important?" Technofox asked.

"What I remember is bad enough," Firefox said. "I don't want to hear more."

Technofox looked at her, worried, and then at Cheshire, her expression turning all business. "We'll get a better sense of how it works if you'll tell us how you were told to use it."

Cheshire cocked her head. "You don't know how it works either?" she asked.

"Maybe," Firefox interrupted. "Or maybe we're screwing with you to evaluate your honesty." She smiled. "Life's fun, don't you think?"

"...Yes," Cheshire said. "The device has a Redtooth connection. It was typically programmed ahead of time, downloading programs direct from Blue."

"So it's a network enabled device?" Technofox asked. "It can initiate a two-way conversation. Interesting." She looked thoughtful.

"To use the device, we'd hold it in our right hand, away from us, out of range of our own implants." Cheshire demonstrated, her elbow slightly bent and her empty hand in front of her. Silverfox noticed that she put her left hand behind her back. She looked at Silverfox apologetically and held her hand over her head. Silverfox flinched away by reflex, swallowed, and forced herself to remain still. Cheshire didn't even have a 4094 device.

"Why are you holding your left hand that way?" Silverfox asked.

"Huh?" Cheshire asked. Obviously she didn't notice. She blinked, confused, like someone asked how to tie their shoes. It wasn't something she was thinking about; it was a trained reflex.

"There's an identification chip in your left hand," Technofox said. "The International Chimera Registry identifier chip." She considered. "They put a bracelet on me once, and told me it was a remote controlled injector. Maybe it was really a 4094 device?"

"Not on the wrist, I don't think," Cheshire said. "We were told that 4094 devices had to go around the neck or on the head."

"They had me wear one on my upper arm," Firefox said.

"That probably was an injector," Cheshire replied.

"I suppose they'd tell you as little as possible," Technofox said regretfully. "What do you do next?"

"Then you press the button," Cheshire said. "You'd then have to hold the gadget to the target's head, as still as possible, for a few seconds or so. If she fights, try to grab her hair. They said to keep your left hand away from it."

"So you have to keep it still relative to the target's head?" Technofox asked. "She can struggle, but as long as your hand stays on her head it's okay?"

"More or less," Cheshire said.

Technofox nodded. "Okay," she said. "That's how the guys who designed this were able to keep the range short."

"I don't follow," Silverfox said.

"4094 isn't a weapon, not really," Technofox explained. "It's a tool. An emergency cutoff so you can stun a chimera without really hurting us. To keep it from being a weapon, there's a proximity switch. If I were designing it, the RFID detector in your head would time the round trip signal to the tag in the device. The range has to remain unchanged, within some tolerance."

"You can spoof a proximity sensor," Silverfox said. "There's defense systems that make them go off prematurely."

"Yes, if the sensor sends signals at regular intervals," Technofox pointed out. "Or if the sensor relies on the return from a single pulse. But if the timing of the pulses are random and the logic requires multiple readings to fall within the same range, you can't use that technology."

"So bottom line is, no drones flying over a battlefield and knocking out every chimera in range," Firefox said.

"Exactly," Technofox said. She turned around.

"You guys are trying to figure out how it works," Cheshire said. "Why?"

Firefox considered, and nodded reluctantly. "That's right. We didn't know about 4094 until we found a gadget in Everett. We're trying to come up with a countermeasure."

"You serious?" Cheshire asked, awed.

"Yes," Silverfox said.

"Shit, count me in for that," Cheshire said. "Just rig me up with a defense."

"If we can," Firefox promised.

Technofox grinned. "It's actually pretty interesting," she said. "I played a bit with it. First, the gadget sends an ICR interrogator to get your registration code."

"It needs your registration code?" Silverfox asked, frowning. "Why would it need that?"

"I thought at first it was so the gadget would know it was talking to a neural implant," Technofox said. "Then maybe that it took the ICR code and hashed it to produce a key code. I don't think so any more. I think it needs a key, something different for every individual chimera." She pointed at Silverfox. "when we used it on you, it did not go online. That means your ICR number and a cross reference to your 4094 key is stored in it. On all of them."

"So these things need to update the database every so often?" Silverfox asked.

"Probably, yes," Technofox said.

"Could you fit all that on one?" Cheshire asked.

"Sure," Technofox said. "Take a look at this."

She brought up a hex editor and opened a file of what looked like random hex code numbers, 0 to F. She pointed at a line. "I got this off a memory chip inside our 4094 gadget. Cheshire, does this look familiar?"

"No," the jaguar said, after moving closer.

"Watch when I turn it to ASCII," Technofox said. She pressed a button and the characters went alphanumeric. Silverfox recognized the pattern of the twenty leftmost characters: they were ICR codes for Brandon Biotech chimerae, followed by binary gibberish.

"That's my ICR code," Cheshire said, troubled.

"Right," Technofox agreed. "And characters twenty one to the EOL are, probably, the key to run 4094 on you." She glanced around. "We're all in this list. Every chimera I know is in this list. Apart from Chantal. And 4094 probably isn't implemented on her model."

"Every chimera you know," Silverfox echoed.

"Sure. A database that cross referenced ICR code and 4094 key for every chimera on the planet wouldn't be more than a hundred megabytes."

"Which would make individual keys worthless," Cheshire said. "So why bother with them?"

Technofox shrugged. "No security system is perfect, so you have multiple systems piled on top of one another." She gestured. "The idea is to make breaking security more complicated. Whoever built the gadget might not have keys for every chimera. It works on Silverfox now, but what if our doctor changes her key during her next security upgrade? Then the bad guys have to go to the trouble of accessing the codes again."

"Okay, the gadget looks up your ICR code and gets your key. What happens next?" Firefox asked.

"Then a Redtooth signal goes to the implant asking it to turn on the RFID sensor. The sensor turns on, and radiates a signal looking for the RFID tag in the gadget. Then the sensor confirms the RFID tag's content, and that the device is being held steady no more than ten centimeters away from the sensor. That's the clever bit -- the RFID key is designed to confirm the range between the implant and the gadget. That grants the device admin access, and then 4094 is run."

"That sounds complicated," Cheshire said.

"Security always is," Technofox said.

"She's from the film industry," Firefox said. "She thinks you spend all day typing quickly and frowning at text boxes that fill the monitor and say 'ACCESS DENIED.'"

Cheshire smirked and Firefox grinned halfway.

"The programming is complex, but operation is simple. The operator's pushing a button, but that starts a whole chain of request and reply." Technofox scratched her jaw.

"What about Tigre's gadget?" Firefox asked.

Cheshire faltered. When Blue Diamond caught fire, Cheshire had taken Tigre to an ambulance.

"I don't know," Cheshire said. "I'm not sure if she had it on her. I didn't take it from her."

"We were speculating that these gadgets could be used in a kidnapping," Firefox said.

"That they were used to kidnap us," Technofox clarified.

Cheshire considered and shrugged. "I suppose," she said. "Someone standing next to you could send a command to lose consciousness at 0300. Then they break into your place and carry you out."

That one might be complicated given the security features of their apartment, but there was no reason to mention that. "Or you faint in the street," Silverfox said, putting her first thoughts into words, "and your 'friend' helps you into a car."

"Yeah," Cheshire agreed. "But they'd need to split you up if you fainted in public. One chimera faints, fine, but two? Suspicious."

"I don't think we'll ever figure out exactly how it was used," Technofox said. "We wouldn't remember how they set up the kidnapping. Or who set it up. It might be anyone we know." She shook her head, and looked at Cheshire. "How about other parameters?" she asked. "Can you do things like remove memories from a given period, or replace them?"

Cheshire shook her head. "As far as deleting memories, no. The target loses all memory since she last woke up. There's no way to go back before that, or to remove a part of that day." She glanced at Firefox. "We had to be very careful that girls didn't faint or otherwise lose consciousness during a ... session we wanted to delete. If she did, she'd retain everything that happened before she went under." She took a deep breath. "As far as replacing memories, that's possible. You could use 4094 to delete a period of time and then use a virtual simulation session to fill in the gap. But since virtual simulation sessions usually get integrated in as memories anyway, it's normally not necessary to take that step."

Silverfox nodded. Chimerae were product and products were expected to have a range of behavior. She knew that some of her experiences in the factory were programmed in, intended to make her act in a particular way. She had no idea which were and which weren't.

Firefox and Technofox glanced at one another. After a moment, Technofox nodded, just slightly. Tension seemed to draw out of Firefox; Silverfox knew that Cheshire had just passed a test. She felt relief that it looked like Cheshire would get out of this with an intact pelt, especially since it might fall to her to do the deed.

"Did you ever use it?" Firefox asked. "Outside Blue Diamond?"

Cheshire closed her eyes.

"You did, didn't you?" she accused.

"Yes," Cheshire admitted.

"How could you do that?" Silverfox asked, shocked.

"Modesty," Cheshire said finally. "Her owner raped her."

Technofox blinked and she and Firefox looked at one another in surprise.

"He did?" Silverfox asked.

"After you showed up in Atlanta," Cheshire said. "Just once."

"Oh. Well, then," Firefox said sarcastically.

"That's not what I meant," Cheshire muttered.

"I know," Silverfox said. And she was afraid she knew why Cheshire was bringing it up. The jaguar had watched. And she had probably helped him do it. And "just once" made her feel less bad about it.

She looked at Cheshire, and she couldn't throw it into her face. "You saw it happen?"

"Yes. After, she wouldn't stop crying," Cheshire said finally. "She thought he'd do it again. And she was ashamed, because she ... you know."

Silverfox could imagine Modesty clutching him, shuddering as she climaxed. "We were designed to convince rapists that no means yes," Silverfox said.

Cheshire nodded. "And I could make that memory go away. Can you blame me?" Cheshire asked. "This was in the morning, so I helped her clean up and, uhm, pushed the button. If it had been in the afternoon, she would have lost too much time. As it was, she figured she had slept late."

"And you did this in Best Condo?" Technofox asked. "Do you remember the date and time?"

"It was the day before Walton was killed," Cheshire said. "About oh eight thirty. Why?"

"Great! Server logs," Technofox said. "If the gadget accessed the web, I have Best Condo's server logs in that period. It was part of the investigation but it didn't lead anywhere."

So Modesty hadn't been hurt physically. She'd put up a fight, but was overpowered. Cheshire must have helped him.

Silverfox looked at Cheshire. "You didn't look ahead," she said. "How did you think it would play out when he did it again?" Silverfox lowered her voice. "'C'mon, baby, what's the big deal? You liked it last time.'" She raised it, imitating Modesty. "'What last time?'"

Cheshire laughed, one chuckle. "I didn't think of that. All I could think of was Modesty alone in an apartment with knives." The jaguar scratched her nose. "I'm not defending him," she said. She looked away. "But I ... think he regretted it." She set her jaw. "Not enough that he stopped hitting on her, but enough that he didn't force the issue again." Cheshire looked at Silverfox. "I'd like to pretend it was some brilliantly conceived plan on my part, that I somehow knew he wouldn't do it again." She shook her head. "But it wasn't like that."

Firefox glanced at Technofox, put out a hand and stroked her head absently. "I don't think it was the right thing to do," Firefox said. "But I don't blame you."


Silverfox and Cheshire left to return to Silver's room. Cheshire was trembling slightly; Silverfox put an arm around her and squeezed.

She closed the door and turned, pressing Cheshire against the door, kissing her with parted lips; giving comfort in the only honest way she knew how.

Cheshire responded, kissing her back. When Silverfox relented and leaned back, Cheshire stroked her face. Her eyes were half closed, and she seemed about to cry.

"What's wrong?" Silverfox asked.

"Is this a setup?" Cheshire asked back. "Did you string me along to --"

"No," Silverfox said, shaking her head earnestly. "No, not at all. I had no idea you were carrying that thing. I invited you because --"

Because I'd rather you were with me than Tigre.

"Because I've wanted you since Blue Diamond," Silverfox said. Cheshire was about to say something; she kissed her to push the words back down her throat. "Don't ever doubt that. You're still hot, and it's not like you did anything wrong with that 4094."

"I don't know," Cheshire said. "I thought I was just taking some pain away from Modesty, but at the same time ... he'll never have to deal with the fact he raped her."

"On the other hand, he stopped," Silverfox shrugged. "Well, nothing we can do about it now."

Cheshire nodded.

"Do you want to talk, or do you want to screw?" Silverfox asked. She didn't mean it as a rhetorical question, even though it sounded like one.

"I want you too," Cheshire said helplessly.

"Good," Silverfox said.

She lifted the front of Cheshire's shirt, put her hand between her legs. The jaguar was wet, she gasped as Silverfox slipped a finger into her.

"You like that?" Silverfox asked.

Cheshire nodded.

Cheshire held Silverfox close, so tightly that the fox couldn't move her hand away. So she didn't try -- she began stroking the jaguar's pubes, put her free arm around her to hold her even tighter, and didn't let go until she closed her eyes and shuddered.

Cheshire looked at her, opened her mouth, and closed her eyes. She pulled the fox into a kiss that turned into her running her rough tongue over Silverfox's face, and then neck, and then she started to lift Silverfox's nightshirt. As the fox's clothes moved up, revealing her body, her tongue moved down.

Afterwards, they held one another in bed. They kissed, lightly, and Cheshire snuggled against Silverfox to go to sleep.

"I was wondering," Silverfox said. "Have you always liked girls, or --"

Cheshire blinked. She obviously hadn't really thought it over.

"I don't know," she said. "You remember that rhyme in Blue Diamond, that the slaves used to flirt with each other?"

"'Men to obey, women for play?'" Silverfox asked.

"Yeah, that," Cheshire said. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. "You know, the casting couch is alive and well," she said. "Back when my owners had me working in the film industry, they made it very clear that I was expected to sleep with the producers and directors. It's a funny industry, it's about as far from egalitarian as you can get. Actors start off in an industry with 90% unemployment, and if you're a woman you put out as a perk. Then sometimes you get big and you become the shitter instead of the shitee."

"They're not all like that, are they?" Silverfox asked.

"Well, no," Cheshire admitted. "There's some really decent people there, and like I said, I kept in touch with a lot of them. They're the exception, not the rule. But most of it's rats fighting for a place on the life preserver. The industry encourages crazy. Crap happens there you'd never see in shoe stores."

"So why do you want to be stunt coordinator for _Tetris?_"

Cheshire shrugged. "It's show biz."

"Why didn't you hit on me in Blue Diamond?" Silverfox asked.

"I dunno," Cheshire said. "Maybe I didn't want to be a producer." She kissed Silverfox on her forehead.


"And here we are," Technofox said. "At 0229 Chantal plugged a key drive into the computer. It woke up, triggered the auto run ... " she nodded, impressed. "And then the key drive started sending commands directly to the keyboard driver. Wow. I've never seen that before." Technofox shook her head and smiled. "That's really clever. The computer thought someone was doing all this manually. ICON needs to know about this technique."

"I think we can tell Clayton without spilling anything. What was she after?" Firefox asked.

Technofox giggled, and smiled widely. "It grabbed the entire DGP archive, split it into five megabyte chunks, renamed them and added metadata to look like image files, and mailed the whole thing to Chantal at Lorraine dot org." She shook her head. "If there were anything in it, I'd be terrified now." She tapped some keys. "It looks like it even edited the server logs, to conceal where the messages were sent. I'm really impressed. We need something like this. If this computer weren't set up as a trap, I don't think I'd even know she had attacked the system."

Silverfox grinned. "Is everything I've heard about Lorraine dot org true?" she asked.

"More or less," Technofox said happily. "It's one of the more notorious Resistance domains."

"That settles it," Firefox said. "There's no way a Nazi agent would send possibly sensitive information she can't read to a Resistance domain. She's got to be Resistance."

"I concur," Technofox said idly, still looking at the screen. She scrolled down. "Then the program started looking for keywords on the drive. 'Nazi', 'Abwehr'..." she grinned. "Flying Saucer."

The door to Shadowfox's room opened, and Chantal stepped out. Immediately, Firefox and Silverfox dispersed, and Technofox hit the Boss Button to bring up something innocuous. Silverfox bolted to the kitchen, where she warmed her cup of coffee.

"Good morning," Chantal said, slurring slightly.

"Bon jour," Firefox said. "Coffee's ready. Shadowfox will be making a breakfast and you don't want to miss that."

Chantal grimaced. "I really don't want to, but you know ... owner stuff." She went into the kitchen to pour herself a cup. Silverfox nodded at her and passed her a cup.

"Hope you like the coffee," Silverfox said.

"Thanks. Is there cream in the fridge?" Chantal asked.

"Yes," Silverfox said. "Sorry about that. We take our coffee black... the sugar's over there."

"Thanks," Chantal said.

"Ah," Firefox said from the next room. She came in, smiling amiably. "Shame about the owner and how you can't hang around. We didn't want to talk about Nazi intelligence boats on the West Coast in front of Cheshire and Modesty anyway."

Chantal paused. She opened the sugar bowl, and put a spoonful into her mug. Silverfox had to admire her sang froid -- her hand barely shook.

"I think I can rearrange my schedule," Chantal said, finally.

"Good idea," Firefox replied approvingly. "You really don't want to miss a Shadowfox breakfast. It's nothing incredibly fancy or out of the ordinary, just basic stuff very well executed."

"So it's like her in bed?" Chantal asked.

"Hey," Silverfox said, the ruff rising on her back.

"No offense," Chantal replied. She pulled a chair out from under the table, sat down, and crossed her legs. She sipped her coffee.

"Meh," Shadowfox said from the next room. "You're just not wired to appreciate it."

"So, what's next?" Chantal asked. "FBI?"

Shadowfox came in. Silverfox had a coffee ready for her; coffee with a shot of rum. Shadowfox didn't drink but she had to keep her alcohol tolerance up because Ebony drank.

"No need," Firefox replied. She took another chair, turned it to face Chantal, and sat down. "We told them about you when we went to Atlanta. Since you're still at liberty, I think Foxforce and the FBI are pretty much in agreement. We're willing to look the other way."

Chantal actually looked startled. "You were after me in Atlanta? We thought you were looking for 7.62, the hitman."

"Oh, we were," Firefox assured her. "Your sources are good. You were pure luck. I suppose you suspected we were investigating you, and you gave yourself away."

"May I ask how?" Chantal asked.

"You need to get more practice touch-typing on a North American keyboard," Firefox said. "Admin / admin comes out funny when you're used to a French layout."

"Oho," Chantal said. "I'm surprised you told me."

Firefox grinned. "If I didn't you might type Q-D-L-I-N into a Nazi's computer next month, and that wouldn't make me happy at all."

Chantal looked dubious as she considered that -- as though she was thinking of different scenarios.

"You're corporate security," she said.

"The United States and I both have a Germany First strategy. National socialists are worse than international socialists," Firefox replied.

Chantal pressed her lips together. Communists always got upset when you reminded them what 'Nazi' stood for. "All right," Chantal said. "What do you know about _Flying Saucer_?"

"Public information aside," Firefox said, "we've got more questions than answers. To us, it looks like the boat was set up as a German intelligence asset investigating military bases on the West Coast of North America."

"We concur," Chantal agreed, nodding her head. "We've been able to trace some raw intelligence reports to that particular boat, circumstantially. Things like reports on US Navy activity which match the movements of _Flying Saucer._"

"So the Free French Navy's been keeping an eye on _Flying Saucer_?" Firefox asked.

Silverfox's ears perked. She didn't know much about the Free French Navy, beyond the fact there was one. Elements of the French Navy had escaped to Britain during the European War, and the fleet had been upgraded since then. Naturally, it was a great cover for British and American intelligence: chances were Hardtack had ridden to Norway on a Free French ship.

"I don't know exactly where this information came from," Chantal said. "It could come from the Free France Navy, or it could come from friendly sources in the US or Canadian Navy."

Firefox nodded. "We found out about it in the context of a smuggling investigation." She sipped her coffee. "Which makes very little sense. I could imagine German intelligence smuggling cocaine into a naval base as part of an operation, but I really don't get the connection to smuggling chimera pelts."

Chantal looked interested. "They are using the boat as part of a smuggling ring?"

"Apparently so," Firefox said. "So you don't have anything to share there?"

There was a pause. Cheshire was in the next room.

"Why don't you sleep in today?" Firefox called out.

"Gotcha," Cheshire replied, and headed back to Silverfox's room.

"I don't think so," Chantal said apologetically. "On our side, we know that the boat's owner has got some very close ties to German intelligence."

"What was his name again?" Shadowfox asked.

"Fischer," Chantal said. "He pretends to make movies. We think that he is involved in laundering money for German intelligence efforts in North America."

"Interesting," Firefox said thoughtfully.

"I mean, did you ever watch one of his movies?" Chantal asked incredulously. "Can you imagine anyone paying money to see one?"

"Now that you mention it, no," Firefox agreed. "So why hasn't your organization told the FBI about Fischer?"

"I'm not absolutely sure we haven't," Chantal replied. "I'm just following orders. Your team went to Everett at the same time a US Navy aquatic chimera team recovered a boat that was probably launched from _Flying Saucer._ My superiors wanted to know more about that boat."

"That's a fair question," Firefox said. "Silverfox, could you please activate the Fox-Com?"

"The what?" Chantal asked, amused.

Silverfox pulled the computer monitor out of the dining room table and Chantal started laughing silently. Firefox half smiled.

"We have a problem," Firefox said. "We've got some nifty pictures of the underside of the _Flying Saucer._ But we don't have any way to explain how we got them. What say we give them to our superiors and say we got them from you?"

"I like the way you think," Chantal said admiringly.


Silverfox wondered how many people used the band shell on the Charles River as a rendezvous. It was easy to find, and easy to give directions to; "south bank of the river" was about all even outsiders needed.

Silverfox liked the cold weather because it made armor less conspicuous. She was dressed and armored for bear, against the unlikely chance Tawny was setting them up.

"Here she comes," Firefox said. "She's brought company."

Silverfox looked. Tawny was walking next to a brown Ursus, one of the big ones. Silverfox's hackles quivered up and back down. If this went bad, she would have to go to guns almost immediately; she didn't have a prayer at going hand to hand with a monster like that. He was close to 210 centimeters tall, bulky rather than ripped. Tawny was almost as big as Firefox, but he made her look like a kitten.

Silverfox watched him unemotionally. He might have armor on his limbs, so she'd have to go for a kill right away. They were in public and there were people around so she'd have to aim her shots carefully. If he kept more than three meters from her she'd be all right.

She wondered what the idea was. Did Tawny think that she'd be able to fight them and win with an Ursus on her side? Silverfox thought the only thing he'd be able to pull off was to turn a scuffle into a gunfight. Or maybe she was banking on the foxes wanting to avoid a gunfight. Yes, that would make sense.

It worried Silverfox, because it had the same half-logic Tawny seemed to be showing everywhere else. Tawny was an escaped slave who did something criminal. Then when that went pear-shaped, she had her ICR chip replaced, and then put posters of herself all over Boston. Tawny didn't stay on message.

They came closer and Silverfox stepped back, feeling uncomfortable as she did so.

"You better back off," Firefox said. "Ken's Rule of Guns."

Silverfox wondered if the Ursus was there to split up the two of them. She hesitated, but Firefox was right.

Four computers interrogated one another wirelessly, and International Chimera Registry codes flashed between them. Silverfox tagged the bruiser's code and sent it back to a server in Technofox's room so a dossier could be prepared.

"Dawnstar," Firefox said.

"Firefox," Tawny replied. She inclined her head towards Silver. "Silverfox. This is Treadwell."

"I thought we were just going to chat," Firefox said, nodding to Treadwell. He grinned nastily.

"Is that why you brought Silverfox?" Tawny asked.

"I've no objection," Firefox said. She put out her hand and shook with Treadwell. Her hand vanished in his. "It's just that we need to talk about Tawny."

"Treadwell knows everything about me," Tawny replied.

"We've been together a while," Treadwell said. He put an arm around her and squeezed just briefly before releasing her. The signal was unmistakable, and it carried meaning between chimera types and species. _My girl._

"Glad to hear you've got friends," Firefox said.

"Sure," Tawny said. "Can't do without them." She glanced up at Treadwell and smiled. "You have news for me?" she asked.

Firefox nodded. "I've bounced this off my FBI contact. They want you for questioning in the death of Karl Scheck, who was found knifed in his hotel room with eight kilograms of cocaine."

Tawny lifted her eyebrows. "Eight kilograms?" she asked.

Treadwell shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes. Do you know anything about it?" Firefox asked.

Tawny hesitated. "I was just keeping his dick warm," she said. "I knew he was a dealer, of course. I found his body, in fact. But I didn't kill him."

"If you found the body, you know roughly when he was killed. Where were you?" Firefox asked.

"I had gone shopping," Tawny said. "I was buying a selection of microbrews for Karl to try out. I don't remember the names of the places, but I know where I was and I'm probably on security camera footage."

"Not any more, probably," Firefox said. "By now that memory has been overwritten. You should have dropped a line to the police so they could impound the data."

"I thought digital video wasn't accepted in court," Tawny said with a frown.

"That's true," Firefox agreed. "But it's not just about convincing a jury; it's about convincing the cops you're innocent so you never even see a jury."

"Ah," Tawny said, nodding. "I get you. Well, I know who Karl talked to. But this is where we start talking about amnesty."

"Amnesty's problematic, I'm afraid," Firefox said. "However, if you give me information that opens up the investigation, the FBI has no reason to look for you. And you will be removed from the fugitives list -- the FBI won't be looking for you any more."

"I'd still be a fugitive slave," Tawny objected.

"By executive order, the FBI does not investigate fugitive slaves," Firefox said. "Last night you talked to two other fugitive slaves."

"Yeah," Tawny said with a laugh. "A Tamer becomes a runaway slave. Pretty fucking funny. All right, I'm sold."

"Like hell," Treadwell said.

"You're not on the FBI list," Firefox told him.

He shook his head. "Not my point. She needs something more than your word."

"I'm afraid that's all I can give you," Firefox said. "You two already screwed up. If she had tried to contact the police sooner, there might be security video to clear her. I've got experience in this sort of thing."

"Don't trust the bitch," Treadwell said.

Silverfox wondered who he was talking to.

"What's the worst that can happen?" Firefox asked. "You're on the FBI fugitive list. Maybe you can get yourself off of it. As it is, the FBI has to find you because you're the only thing left for them to investigate. And if they catch you, then guilty or not you go back to your legal owner. Give them other names to investigate and they won't look for you."

"All right," Tawny said.

"God damn it," Treadwell said. "Tawny, she's going to screw you over."

Firefox sighed. "Look, if I wanted to screw you over I'd have told my FBI contact where we were meeting. The FBI only cares about Tawny because she's the next step in the investigation. And they don't care about you at all."

"How many bounties have you brought in?" Treadwell asked.

"Runaway chimerae?" Firefox asked. She reflected, to show she was taking the question seriously. "We've never taken a contract like that. There was a killer for hire who turned out to be a runaway slave. Remember Lilith, Tawny?"

"Lilith? No shit?" Tawny looked impressed. "You got her? Cool."

"You jimbo bitch," Treadwell told Firefox.

"Shut up, Treadwell. Lilith deserved it," Tawny said.

Treadwell frowned and looked away. Silverfox kept her eyes on him. Firefox could defend herself against Tawny, but Treadwell could break her neck if he got a good grip on her. She glanced past him. There were people about, but none within hearing range, and nobody seemed to pay them much attention. If they heard anything, it was a stray word or two.

"But there's something else I'm curious about," Firefox said. "Your International Chimera Registry chip. Where did you get it?"

"She has a new one?" Treadwell asked.

"What new ICR chip?" Tawny asked, face blank.

"If you start lying to me," Firefox said, "the deal's off."

"You told me you weren't able to get one," Treadwell said, frowning.

Silverfox sighed. Tawny's expression was blank, as though she was thinking.

"Damnit, Firefox," Tawny said, as though it were Firefox's fault.

"Sorry," Firefox said. "You said you had no secrets from him."

"Yeah, she did," Treadwell snapped.

"Oh, now you believe them," Tawny said. She turned to Firefox. "Forget it. I'm not talking about that."

"Scheck's friends murdered a chimera, they took her ICR chip, and put it into you," Firefox said. "Her pelt showed up in Seattle a couple of weeks ago. I'm not accusing you of anything but you know about some people who need to be taken down."

"You said they couldn't get us new chips," Treadwell said.

Tawny faced him. "I'm sorry, baby," she said. She touched his face and smiled. "I meant they couldn't get an Ursus chip. Forgive me?"

He slapped her hand away. "Lying cunt," he spat.

Silverfox had her coat unzipped. It was her light coat, not the armored coat; she wore tactical armor under it. Her shoulders were hunched forward so the two halves of her jacket would lay close together. Hopefully, Treadwell wouldn't notice the black armor.

Or would it be better if he did? Would a delicate reminder that she was there and armed defuse things a bit?

Tawny stared at Treadwell for a long moment. Her face was trembling softly.

"He killed Karl Scheck," Tawny finally said.

"Bitch," he hissed.

"I'll keep that a secret," Firefox said. "I don't care if you knifed a pusher --"

He threw a punch at Tawny. It connected before Silverfox saw it move. His arm was bigger than Tawny's legs. It hit high, on the side of her head. Tawny was ducking away from it, but it still made a solid, clonking noise. Firefox dropped and rolled away from him, out of reach. Silverfox drew her right-hand gun, half-squeezed the trigger.

Her point of view shifted as her gun camera clicked on, integrating with her neural implant. "Halt," she barked. "Private security." She set the crosshairs on his head.

He grabbed Tawny by the chin, lifted her off the ground.

The Glock 20 fired once, the report echoing off the band shell. For an instant, Treadwell looked dazed, staring at Tawny as though he couldn't remember picking her off the ground. Silverfox readied for a second shot.

The brass from her pistol hit concrete, and it rang softly.

Treadwell's expression turned placid, and he seemed to go to sleep. His massive frame dropped. Tawny landed on her feet and staggered, but stayed up. He went down, and toppled onto his side towards Silverfox, revealing the exit wound the hocpacem penetrator had made in his temple, sunlight glistening off the red patch barely visible in brown fur.

Silverfox glanced down at Firefox. She was on her back, .45 out, starting to relax now that the target was down.

There were five civilians, stopped, staring at them. One started to scream.


"'-- And this morning's gangland-style execution of a fugitive slave chimera,'" Technofox read from off the Fox-Com.

Cheshire was clearing the lunch dishes away. There were four settings; Modesty and Cheshire were moving back to their apartment, and Shadowfox was helping Modesty carry their stuff back.

"That's enough," Firefox said.

"But there's more," Technofox said. "They also talk about the shooting in Cheshire's apartment without mentioning Cain was an armed intruder."

"And later there's a really neat bit where they tie it in to Walton's murder," Silverfox said. "I think it's so cool that I'm part of a conspiracy to keep chimerae down."

"Everything becomes clear now," Technofox said, eyeing Silverfox dubiously.

"And that is why you stay in the apartment," Firefox said. "There's a lot of reporters looking for you and I'm afraid you might take a few of them out."

"Somebody has to," Silverfox argued. "Thin the herd a little."

"While I admit your plan is initially pleasing to me, on deeper reflection I think that would be a bad idea," Firefox said regretfully.

"Okay. Tech, can you print that article out for my diary?" Silverfox asked. "I want to paste it in."

Technofox glanced up at her, and then back at her computer. She swore.

"Hey, if it's going to be a problem --" Silverfox began.

"What happened?" Firefox asked.

"The police are dropping the case," Technofox grumbled. "God damn it."

Firefox blinked. "And this is bad because...?" she asked delicately.

"I'm sorry," Technofox said, scrunching her face apologetically. "It's just that they're dropping it because Treadwell wasn't legally human. As far as the court's concerned, you killed an animal that wasn't under control of its owner. Not that I want to get you in trouble," Technofox said.

"Thank you very much," Silverfox said, bobbing her head elaborately.

Technofox looked back at the monitor. "I just don't like the reason they dropped it," she explained. "Just because Treadwell didn't spend an afternoon talking to a psychologist--"

"It's all bullshit anyway," Silverfox shrugged. "This time the bullshit worked out to our advantage. If you spend your time fretting about 'why' you'll just worry yourself into an ulcer."

"Even so," Firefox muttered. "Yeah, I know where you're coming from, Tech."

Silverfox glared at Technofox. "You should be happy. Now I don't have to perjure myself."

"Perjure yourself?" Technofox asked, frowning. "What do you have to lie about?"

"About Tawny," Silverfox explained. "Since there won't be an investigation, nobody's going to ask me about the cougar chimera who was seen by witnesses, and I won't have to pretend she was just a bystander."

"Ah," Technofox reflected. "Yes, good point." She nodded her head and Silverfox imagined her dropping the issue entirely.

"You shouldn't have let Tawny go," Silverfox said to Firefox.

"I didn't have a choice," Firefox said. "If she got picked up in the investigation she'd be sent back to San Diego."

"Swell," Silverfox said. "So as far as you're concerned, she's got a Get Out of Jail Free card because she happens to be a runaway. Now she's halfway to Alaska or something, and all we've got for Agent Thompson of the FBI is hearsay."

Firefox pressed her lips together and ran her fingers through her hair. Immediately, Silverfox regretted saying it. Silverfox sighed. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "You made the best of a crap situation. I probably would have done the same."

Firefox grinned, halfway. "Thanks," she said.

"I don't want to see Tawny sold to a brothel either," Silverfox said. "But I'm afraid she knows that and she's the sort to exploit it. That one's pure shit on a stick."

"She hasn't been using her freedom to be a benefit to society, no," Technofox admitted.

Firefox shook her head. "Tawny's the type that makes me wonder about abolition," she said.

"You're not serious," Technofox said, shocked and uncertain..

Firefox grimaced. "Of course not. Well, not really. It's just that some people fuck it up so much that --"

Cheshire stepped into the room. She was carrying a coffee carafe, and refilled Firefox's mug without making eye contact. "Mind if I cut in?" she asked.

Firefox looked over at her. "Why not?" she asked.

"I know you hate me," Cheshire said. "And I know that I've been a slave overseer. But I appreciate what you did for me and I'm trying really hard not to fuck it up."

Firefox blinked, taken entirely by surprise. She looked up at Cheshire thoughtfully. "Thanks," she said.

"No, thank you," Cheshire said.

The front door buzzer went off, and the Fox-Com brought up the webcam covering the door. It was Tawny.

"What the hell?" Silverfox asked, stupefied.

"I'll get it," Cheshire said. She put down the coffee and went over.

Why would Tawny come back? Silverfox glanced at Tech and Fire for an indication they understood, but they both seemed as puzzled as she was. Why wouldn't Tawny take the chance to run?

"Won't you come in?" Cheshire said.

Silverfox stared at the camera, running scenarios through her head...

... Shotgun under her coat?

Silverfox grabbed for the gun under the table. It wasn't there.

"Thanks," Tawny said. "Feels funny not to bow and lick."

Cheshire didn't respond to that, but took her coat. Tawny was wearing a tight shirt that bared her midriff and pants so tight her wallet bulged. Silverfox slowly exhaled in relief as Tawny came into the dining room. Technofox looked at Silverfox quizzically.

"Hi. Is there a problem?" Tawny asked, looking at Silverfox.

"Thought you might be angry," Silverfox said. She shouldn't have said that. She should have just brushed it off.

"Why?" Tawny asked.

"You know," Silverfox said. "Dead boyfriend."

Tawny snorted. "He wasn't worth the effort I put into him," she said. "I should have cut him loose months ago. Dumbass claimed Karl's hotel room was clean. Can you believe it?"

Silverfox didn't reply. Was that Treadwell's epitaph?

Tawny looked at Cheshire, "Can I have a coffee?"

"Sure," the jaguar said. "Let me get you a mug."

Tawny watched her go into the kitchen, with a trace of a smile. She turned to Firefox with a grin, and spoke in tones so low Silverfox could barely hear her. "I bet you get a kick out of that," she said, a twinkle in her eye.

"So you've reconsidered our deal?" Firefox replied.

"Sure," Tawny said, sitting down. Cheshire came back and poured her coffee. Tawny smirked and Silverfox had a sudden urge to pistol-whip her one across the chops. Maybe something showed in her face because Tawny said, politely, "Thank you."

"Cream and sugar?" Cheshire asked. Silverfox glanced at her. That had to be a subtle dig.

"No," Tawny said shortly. "Remember?"

"Fine," Cheshire replied.

Shadowfox came in, and glanced at Tawny, suppressing any surprise she felt.

"So," Tawny asked, "is that Shadowfox's motorcycle in space 216? The Honda Cruiser?"

"...Yes," Firefox said cautiously.

"She mentioned she had one at the party but she didn't get a chance to show it to me," Tawny explained. Tawny grinned. "That is a really sweet ride. Of course, that's how she got it, so it all fits."

"So you like motorcycles?" Firefox asked.

"Yeah," Tawny said, a touch of regret in her voice. "I had a Mitsubishi Tempest once, but I had to abandon it in Indiana, along with our van. But sometimes you have to leave your baggage behind."

"Speaking of Treadwell," Firefox said, "You were telling us that he killed Scheck."

"Right," Tawny said.

"You planned it, I guess," Firefox said.

"He threatened me," Tawny said. "I was afraid for my life."

Firefox blinked, slowly. "I'm not sure if I believe that."

"Do you have to?" Tawny asked.

Tawny didn't need to hang around a bad situation, and it was hard to imagine her as a helpless girlfriend, not when she was sitting next to the woman who shot Treadwell. She could have dropped Treadwell at any moment just by walking. She had probably planned the whole thing, and Treadwell had dropped the ball.

"It's not likely they'll close the murder case entirely," Technofox said. "The problem is that without Tawny's testimony, it's hearsay. And even if a California judge takes her testimony, she'll implicate herself."

"Like I said, dead pusher." Firefox said. "Nobody cares about solving the murder for his sake; they want to nail his associates. So what was the plan, Tawny? If I were going to guess, you left to alibi yourself, and let Treadwell in to kill Karl. You wanted to steal the cocaine and sell it, but he wasn't able to find it." Firefox shook her head. "How did he not find it? Didn't he smell it?"

There was no way Tawny was going to implicate herself, Silverfox thought.

"Yeah, that's close enough," Tawny said, to Silverfox's astonishment. "The stuff was vacuum packed. I couldn't smell a brick when it was under my nose. I told Treadwell where it was... but that's not important. What is important is that I've got Scheck's address book." She tapped her forehead. Silverfox wondered if she meant she had memorized them, or stored them in her implant. "Twenty names and email addresses. Even if the names are fake, the addresses can be traced."

"That's true," Firefox said, impressed for the first time.

"But I need to know more about why the FBI is looking for me," Tawny said.

Because your fur was found in hotel room with a murdered man? Silverfox asked silently. It was a weird question. Her eyes widened slightly. Unless --

Firefox grinned. "They don't know about that other thing you did before Karl," she said.

"But you know about it," Tawny stated.

"I don't," Firefox said cheerfully. "I'm not being coy. I honestly have no idea what you did, except that it was something worse than just being a runaway." Firefox paused. "You wouldn't bother switching your chip for another runaway's chip, because that wouldn't improve your situation. And you obviously got the chip before meeting Treadwell, because otherwise he would have noticed that your ICR chip didn't match the one you had when he first met you. Therefore, you must have done something that would bring you to the attention of the FBI before you had Karl killed."

Tawny nodded.

"But we're getting away from the subject that interests me," Firefox said. "How did you get that ICR chip?"

"Karl and I met in Los Angeles," Tawny said. "He worked as part of a smuggling ring -- he'd arrange for people to meet the boats and help transport the goods to the clients. He'd set up reception comities to handle scheduled deliveries."

"And what did you do for him?" Firefox asked.

The cougar shrugged. "He wanted another pair of eyes to watch his back. And he liked that I could see at night. And I'm good in bed."

She said it casually, as though it was obvious. Silverfox wondered if Karl had been another sap who believed what a hooker had told him. Like Treadwell.

"Karl told me he could get me an ICR chip and he did. It was plugged into me on an outpatient basis. The doctor came to my hotel room, and he gave me his cell number in case it got infected." She recited ten digits. "Are you sure the chimera they got it from was murdered?"

"Yes," Firefox said. "Her pelt was found in a shipment from Canada."

"Her pelt?" Tawny asked, her jaw dropping. "That's sick. I mean..." She went silent for a moment, and rubbed her nose. "Look, as far as I'm concerned they were carrying drugs between Mexico and the States. You're saying they also carried chimera pelts?"

"Did they use flush deck boats?" Technofox asked. She toggled the window on the Fox-Com, brought up a wireframe sketch of the boat they had caught in Seattle. "Like this?"

"Yes," Tawny said. "But I only saw the bit above the waterline." She considered. "That matches, but I have no idea what the rest of the boat looked like." She pointed at the screen with her claw. "These parts, here?" she said, touching the hoist connections with the tip of a claw. "I remember those."

"Then it's very possible Karl was involved in the same ring," Technofox said.

It made sense -- smugglers bringing furs south from Canada might also bring drugs north from Mexico. Silverfox was struck by how Fire and Tech didn't bring up the intelligence angle. Because so far, that was the bit that didn't quite fit. German spies might have the capability of being smugglers, but why would they?

Smugglers were in for it for money. Did spies really need money that badly?

"Damn," Tawny said. She shook her head. "Guess I'm lucky I got out when I did."

Did Tawny mean that, or did she just want them to believe she meant it?

Technofox was typing, probably setting up search agents with the cell phone number Tawny had given them.

"Okay, thanks," Firefox said. "Just give us Karl's phone book and that'll be enough for the FBI."

"What do I get for it?" Tawny asked. It was inevitable, Silverfox thought. This was probably the last bit she had to sell, and she wasn't willing to let it go for free.

Firefox lifted an eyebrow, as though surprised at the question. A typical bargaining trick, to express mild disinterest. "You get the FBI off your neck," Firefox said. "I can't swing that alone. You're on their list until you give us everything they'd get from you."

Tawny held out her right hand and rubbed her thumb across the tips of her first two fingers.

Firefox chuckled. "There's around ten thousand in FBI reward money allocated for this case, provided convictions result from the information given."

"Which is impossible, because Treadwell's dead," Tawny said.

"Yes, that's correct," Firefox agreed. "However, I'll make the case that money should be re-allocated to cover information relating to the smugglers."

Tawny hesitated just a moment, trying very hard not to look tempted. She failed. Still, she shook her head: nobody took the first offer. "I think you can do better than that."

"You seem to be doing okay with this Dawnstar act," Firefox said. "But raising your profile makes it a lot easier for the FBI to find you. How much longer can you be Dawnstar before federal agents show up at a book store?"

"Especially if you tell them, right?" Tawny asked, flatly.

Firefox laughed. "I don't need to. And don't kid yourself into thinking I'm the only one who'll make the connection. Sorry, but this isn't the windfall you think it is. And getting the FBI off your butt is worth a lot more than ten grand."

"Hmm," Tawny said. "Tempting... what proof do I have that you won't screw me over?"

"You're a witness to Treadwell's death," Firefox said. "and we let you go then. Come on. If we wanted to screw you over, you'd be flying to California now in a straitjacket and blindfold."

Tawny hesitated. It was obvious that Firefox had made a good point, even if Tawny didn't want to admit it.

Firefox shrugged. "Let me give you our FBI contact's email address. You can deal with him. There's the door."

"All right," Tawny agreed. "Deal. But there's something I'm curious about."

Firefox nodded.

"Back in Blue Diamond. You were Tigre's bitch," Tawny said. "Did she fuck you without beating you?"

Silverfox was very still.

"Yes. Usually," Firefox replied, the tone of her voice unchanged.

"I thought so," Tawny said, grinning. "I mean, you're the only girl who went from Tigre's bed back to the cells without swinging by the infirmary."

"I didn't know that," Firefox said. "I can believe it." She looked away, as though she had lost interest in the conversation.

"How did you manage it?" Tawny asked, genuinely curious.

"I don't want to talk about it," Firefox said.

Tawny laughed. "Why be shy? I'm a Blue Diamond Girl too. Everyone in this apartment knows what Tigre was like. We all tried to give her what she wanted. But you're the only one to figure out what it was."

"She liked my breasts," Firefox replied. "I played along with her. I guess she enjoyed them more than hitting me."

Tawny laughed. "So she wanted to be your widdle kitten?" She made slurping sounds.

Firefox forced a laugh. "Yeah, basically,"

Tawny nodded ruefully, glancing at Firefox's chest and then down at her less impressive rack. "That makes sense," she agreed. She turned serious. "Some of the girls back there held it against you. They were wondering if you were informing."

"Informing?" Firefox asked, puzzled. "What was there to inform about?"

"There were escape plans hatching every week," Tawny shrugged. "Besides that, you could find stuff. Maybe Justine stuck her tongue out at Master when his back was turned. Or Karin took a thirty-cent tip from someone. I don't think Blue Diamond really gave a shit about half the stuff they punished. It was about flogging girls to keep everyone else scared and thinking they had a chance to get through it as long as they licked the floor when they were told to. But why ask me? Ask your maid."


Cheshire saw Tawny out and came back into the dining room.

"What would you like for dinner?" Cheshire asked. "I'm sort of in the mood to play in the kitchen. I have to go shopping anyway."

Firefox shrugged wordlessly.

"Shadow and Silver are going to the airport tomorrow. Let them set the menu," Technofox said.

"Shadow won't be back for a while," Cheshire said. "We can't wait for her."

"Isn't it Tech's turn to decide?" Silverfox asked.

Technofox frowned. "I don't know what I'm hungry for yet... can I have a few minutes?"

"Sure," Cheshire said. "When are you flying out?" she asked Silverfox.

"1938," Silverfox said. "I trust that bitch about as far as I can throw a bus."

"Me?" Technofox asked, surprised.

"No. Tawny."

Cheshire was putting a pitcher of lemonade on the table just as she said that. The jaguar smiled just a bit, and then suppressed it.

"What do you think?" Firefox asked Technofox.

"I want something I can gnaw on," Technofox said.

"Just your first impressions," Firefox said.

"For dinner?" Technofox asked, confused.

"No. Tawny." For an instant, Firefox looked impatient, and then she smiled. "Try to focus, honey."

"I could make something with honey," Cheshire said.

Technofox paused, and considered. She removed her glasses and tapped the edge against her lips in a way that made her look about three times as smart as anyone had a right to look.

"Hell if I know," she finally said cheerfully and with a grin, stuck her glasses back on.

Firefox was watching Cheshire. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

"Do you have something you want to say?" Firefox asked, finally.

"I knew her in Blue Diamond," Cheshire said. "I don't think we should bring it up."

"Go ahead," Firefox said.

Cheshire looked surprised, and then sat down. "I was there before she came in," she said. "She was a house maid, and was sold to Blue Diamond because her owners thought she was a bad influence on their son."

"Nice family?" Silverfox asked.

"They sold her to Blue Diamond," Cheshire reminded her.

"Point," Silverfox agreed.

"She was ... you had to keep an eye on her. She was always trying to get away with stuff."

"Like me?" Firefox asked, voice neutral.

"No," Cheshire said seriously. "She was just a pain in the ass. You were dangerous." She shook her head slowly. "I remember that by your fifth day, I knew you were going to kill somebody."

"I don't remember seeing you until later," Firefox said suspiciously.

"You wouldn't," Cheshire replied.

Firefox's jaw tightened. Cheshire looked away.

"Did you tell Master I was dangerous?" Firefox asked.

"No," Cheshire answered. "I know that sounds like a lie, but I didn't tell anybody. I couldn't be sure, after all. You had your family with you and we thought you might all settle in. I just made damn sure you wouldn't hurt anyone on my watch."

Firefox chuckled mirthlessly. "Settle in? To Blue Diamond?"

"To be fair," Technofox said, "Tawny probably wasn't at her best in Blue Diamond."

"Probably not," Cheshire agreed easily. "That's why I don't think it's right to hold it against her." Cheshire hesitated. "She was a sneaky little snitch. She'd sell anyone. She'd try pinning things on other slaves."

"I wonder what was scaring her," Firefox said, not looking at anyone.

"But it's not like she got out and started taking night classes in bookkeeping," Silverfox said.

"Right," Firefox agreed with a laugh.

"I'm really not surprised she went illegal," Cheshire said. "She was always ... I dunno how to put it. You'd have to keep an eye on her. Silverfox and Shadowfox would keep the little rules and break the big ones, Firefox and Technofox would break all the rules. Tawny kept the big rules and broke the little ones. She'd accept tips over the limit, but I can't imagine she'd try to escape. There's something petty about her."

"She doesn't plan things out," Firefox said.

"Or she doesn't see the big picture," Technofox said.

"That's it, exactly," Cheshire said, nodding at the little vixen. "If you were hunted by the FBI and started throwing up posters and appearing at bookstores, I'd wonder what angle you were playing. When Tawny did it, I figured it was just Tawny being Tawny. I'm surprised she hasn't been caught yet."

"It's surprisingly easy to be a fugitive," Technofox said. "Where it gets tough is making money legally when you're a fugitive."

"I manage," Cheshire said.

"Not really," Technofox said. "Not legally. We're paying you under the table."

"I kind of think there's a difference between black market housework and killing a pusher to steal his coke," Silverfox said.

"So do I," Technofox agreed. "But that's not the point."

"The point is, don't lend Tawny money," Silverfox said.

"Not if you need it back," Cheshire said. "I think she'd blow off a legitimate job to escape a thousand dollar debt. Never mind that she'd save the thousand back in a couple of months."

"So she's a fuck-up," Silverfox said. "Maybe that's why she sacrificed Treadwell."

Firefox looked thoughtful. "Well, that relationship was in the crapper anyway," she said. "So he was disposable."

"Was she lying about him committing the murder?" Technofox asked.

"Maybe," Firefox said. "But I doubt it. He didn't even try to deny it. No, I think she was hoping he'd go after us, and she'd escape in the confusion. She didn't realize Silverfox would take him out so quickly."

"Then why come back?" Technofox asked.

"I don't know," Firefox said. "Maybe Silverfox scared her so much she decided she's better off working with us? One shot kills do that."

"Did you have to kill him?" Cheshire asked.

Silverfox snorted. "Until Glock starts making a 10mm that can be set to stun, yeah."

"Still --" Cheshire began.

"He was an Ursus," Technofox said.

"Oh! Never mind," the jaguar apologized.

"To be honest," Firefox admitted, "I'm not comfortable with her knowing we're operatives."

"That can't be helped," Technofox said. "We had to let her know we had pull with the FBI to get these email addresses." Technofox nodded at the Fox-Com. "I think we got good data from her. Some of this is already traceable."

"Forward it to Thompson," Firefox said. "And let us know if there's something there we can use."

"Right," Technofox agreed. "How do we play Tawny going forward?"

"Friend or foe?" Silverfox asked.

"Tawny doesn't have friends, just people she hasn't taken advantage of yet," Firefox said. "I want to stay in that category as long as possible."

"Speaking of friends," Silverfox said, "since I can't visit Jerry and pork him, can Jerry come here to pork me?"

Technofox looked up and blinked. "Wow," she said. "That fit in so seamlessly with the rest of the conversation."

"As long as I get porked it's all good," Silverfox said.

"That's what I want. Spare ribs," Technofox said.

"With a honey glaze, right?" Cheshire asked. "I have a new recipe for a honey glaze I want to try."

"How is it?" Silverfox asked.

"How would I know?" Cheshire asked with some asperity. "I can't taste it."

"That would be wonderful," Technofox said. "Thanks."

"Okay, I'll need to go shopping soon then. Will your guest be staying for dinner?" Cheshire asked.

"Will I be having a guest?" Silverfox asked, looking at Firefox with big eyes and wagging her tail entreatingly.

"You know, I don't think he's visited us since the first night you had him over," Firefox said. "Yeah, that sounds like fun."

"Mind if I make an extra portion for me?" Cheshire asked. "I'll pay for my share of the groceries."

The big vixen looked at Cheshire briefly. "That's okay. Set a place for yourself too."


"Did you see Ted about that job?" Technofox asked.

Cheshire wrinkled her nose. "Yeah. The apartment's got three college boys."

"He didn't tell me that," Technofox said.

"Not only was it cleaning up after a party, but one of the guys tried to grab me." The jaguar chuckled. "I got to bloody his nose and they gave me a good apology tip out of that. And they're having another party next week."

Jerry paused, and frowned. "You're not going back there, are you?"

Cheshire looked up, a little surprised. "Unless something else comes up, probably. I mean, it came to over a hundred bucks."

Jerry cut himself off. "Ah," he said. "Are you sure you can handle them?"

"Yeah," Cheshire said. "You're sweet for asking."

"She saved me in her apartment," Silverfox said. "Distracted the bad guy at just the right moment."

"Thanks," Jerry said. "I owe you one."

"Heck," Cheshire said. "For all I knew he was going to shoot me."

Shadowfox looked at the ribs, something in her obviously uncomfortable with the fact they were cooked in her kitchen without her direct assistance. Still, even she could find nothing wrong with them.

"I've been thinking of getting a rifle," Jerry said to Firefox. "Silverfox tells me you're a sharpshooter. What would you recommend?"

"I use an M1A," Firefox said. "I'm not sure if that's the sort of weapon you're looking at."

He laughed. "Well, maybe. I'm thinking more starter rifle than semi-automatic sniper weapon. Still, I'd be interested in trying it out some time."

"There's a nice rifle range over in Westborough. We could go there some time. If you fall in love, I might sell it to you," Firefox said.

Silverfox gasped. "Sell your M1A?"

"I've been giving some thought to getting an M110," Firefox explained.

"She's been thinking about that for months," Silverfox said. "So don't get your hopes up. Her relationship with the M1A has lasted longer than most of her lovers."

Shadowfox looked up, and seemed to consider saying something. Then she closed her mouth.

Firefox shook her head. "No, this time it's for real. It's your fault, you know," she said pointing the end of a denuded rib accusingly at Jerry.

"How is it my fault?" he asked, amused.

"That Korth you gave Silverfox," she said. "The sight is a stripped down version of this optical-neural sight that fits on the M110 but not on the M1A. I mean, the sight has a mode where you can track a moving target and it'll offset the image to compensate." She shook her head. "It's magic. Give me enough range and a tripod and I'll shoot down satellites."

"Sounds like a no-brainer, then," Jerry said. "What does the M1A have that the M110 doesn't?"

"Cost is a big issue," Firefox said. "Some people, and I'm not naming names, burn through our annual equipment budget by September. Fortunately there's not much crime in the cold weather."

Technofox squirmed.

"Of course the tech curve is a lot steeper for electronics," Jerry said. "Eighty year old rifles are a lot closer to state of the art than eight month old intrusion programs."

"You guessed who she was talking about?" Silverfox said with mock amazement. Jerry tried to suppress a grin but failed.

"Yeah, that's true," Firefox agreed. "And we run through a lot more scanned gigabytes than bullets. That's why I'm not naming names. But there's some other drawbacks to the M110 too."

"Isn't it heavier?" Jerry asked.

"Yes, but it's also a bit shorter, which I like. On the other hand, the M1A looks like something a cop might carry. The M110 looks like a combat rifle. A bit like an M16." She took a bite from her corn-on-the-cob.

"The possibility of blue on blue stuff scares me," Technofox said. "We try to make sure the police know about us, but it's not always possible. If a cop sees you with a pistol, he'll probably draw on you and order you to surrender. I've had that happen -- it's not fun. But if he sees you with what looks like an automatic weapon..." Technofox shook her head. "What if he shoots first?"

"And she's totally in love with the wooden stock," Silverfox said.

"And I'm totally in love with wooden stocks," Firefox admitted with a grin. "But wow, the sight on that Korth..."

"No offense," Technofox said "but there's a lot of human cops who don't have a big problem shooting chimerae."

"None taken," Jerry said.

"Like that Joe - Don - Baker - Looking bastard in Atlanta," Silverfox said.

"Bishop wasn't that bad," Technofox said.

"Not really the point," Shadowfox said. "He'd never go out of his way to hurt a chimera, I think. And he's really, truly, furious about Blue Diamond. He wouldn't want to hurt a dog, either. And suppose you saw a dog running around with an automatic rifle? Assuming the dog knew how to use it?"

"Yeah," Technofox admitted glumly.


"I was wondering why your room is so small," Jerry said. He skritched the top of her head and she closed her eyes with pleasure.

"The apartment's a three-bedroom," Silverfox explained. "Two of the bedrooms were split in half. Then they added doors to the halves without doors." She pointed to the west wall. "Shadowfox's is through there. When the light's on, you can see where the paint doesn't quite match. Tech's is the server room, so she usually shares with Firefox."

"Oh," Jerry said. "Are they...?"

"Lovers? Yes," Silverfox said.

"I see," Jerry said.

"Does that bring up any nice mental images?" Silverfox asked.

"You're nicer than any mental image," he said, kissing her forehead.

She lifted the sheet and looked down. "Yes," she said. "Even as we speak, Firefox is on her back, fingers clutching the bed in ecstasy as Technofox eagerly and expertly licks at her clitoris. Firefox thrashes about, heavy breasts moving with her pleasure, as she fights to suppress a cry that would wake up the building. Wow. Look at that thing come to life."

"You are very cruel to me," he said.

She reached down, touched him gently, running her hand from the base of his penis to the tip. "In the mood for another go?" she asked. "You can pretend I'm two girls."

He chuckled and hugged her. "Is Cheshire having a hard time of it?" he asked.

"She's surviving," Silverfox said.

"I wish I could give her a hand."

"You could hire her to clean your apartment," she said.

She remembered suggesting that Cheshire would make a good mistress for him. But now she didn't feel like bringing that up. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to think of that.

"I already have someone doing that," he said. "I can't just fire him for no reason."

"Oh," Silverfox said. That hadn't occurred to her. He was right. "Well, maybe you could do something bigger."

"Like what?" he asked.

"Open some sort of business," Silverfox said. "Something designed to employ runaway slaves."

"Huh?" he said, as though surprised at the suggestion.

"Sure," she said. "Why not? You've got time. And you've certainly got the money. Heck, you might even come up with something profitable."

"Hmm," he said. "What sort of things are runaway chimerae good at?"

Silverfox grinned. "Let me show you one."