FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Technofox 10

"I don't have clothes like that," Technofox said, looking at one of the women in the audience. Of course, not too many women did. She was a chimera, a cougar, wearing a dress that seemed to be made of strategically placed horizontal strips. The cougar brushed her hair out of her eyes, dipped a shrimp into sauce, and put it in her escort's mouth. She then leaned over to him, and her tongue flicked lightly over his lips.

There were three strippers out at the moment; all human. There were two working the same table. That was odd; maybe the people at the table were regulars, or really good tippers. The third was more in the middle of the floor; she had her back to Technofox and was undoing her bra for the patron in front of her. The cougar was sitting at another table.

"How does her dress work?" David asked. "She doesn't seem to have any underwear on. I suppose her tail goes between two straps..."

Technofox was impressed that they had both picked out the same woman. "The topological complexity is mind-blowing."

"And the sociopolitical ramifications are appalling," David said solemnly.

"I think the strap under her breasts gives some support," Technofox said. "She's got to have a G-string or something to keep her from flashing every time she takes a step."

"Could be," David agreed. He looked away. "I shouldn't stare."

"I doubt she minds," Technofox said. "She's probably a professional."

"That's kind of the point," David said. "I hope we're wrong, but I'd bet she's working. She's not having fun with a friend. She's as smart as I am, she has a life inside her, and she's being treated like a toy."

"Or a pet."

He looked away, upset. "I mean, that's worse than just prostitution. Being paid for some time followed by a hot bath is bad enough, but she's pretending to have a relationship with that schmuck."

Being a pet's better than being a punching bag, Technofox thought. She wished that hadn't come to mind. It was too depressing.

At that moment, the singer belted out the line "Baby make me feel so good" and moaned. Distaste flicked across Technofox's features. That just seemed vulgar. She didn't recognize the voice, but she was pretty sure she could identify the software they used to make her sound like every other female singer.

"Assuming he is a schmuck," Technofox said, instead.

"If she's doing a job, he's a schmuck," David replied.

"You'd never pay for sex, would you?" Technofox asked. It seemed very odd for her to have a conversation like this with a human man. Maybe the fact it was dark helped; there were things that hurt too much to say in daylight.

Technofox wondered why no strippers had drifted down their way yet -- perhaps three wasn't really enough for the entire floor, especially with two clumping like that. Or maybe they noticed that she and David were conversing. She thought that strippers might focus on tables that seemed bored.

In Blue Diamond, she had never been allowed to walk around the nightclub unsupervised. She had never been with a client unless chained. Even with Todd's Friend, she had been collared and leashed to the bed, never even allowed the illusion of freedom. Todd's Friend had liked that, maybe because he knew she hated it.

The dancers probably assumed that she was like the cougar, David's property, a valued pet. She felt annoyed by that -- she wished there was something she could do to disprove it.

As though the time Tigre had spent on her, the chains that Blue Diamond had laden her with, weren't proof enough.

For a moment, she thought of leaping to her feet and announcing that she was here with David because she felt like being here with him. Human / Chimera couples weren't entirely unheard of; in some jurisdictions they could even get married.

But what sort of relationship was that for the human? A good chunk of the people out there thought chimerae were just clever animals with advanced linguistic and interactive capabilities. Another chunk would assume the relationship was exploitive. If money could buy a chimera's love, some said, how could a chimera give it freely?

A smile flickered over his face. "Only as part of the job. I've had to ... pretend to be a patron at brothels. Does that sound like a line from Major Bloodnok?"

Technofox grinned briefly. "I believe you. It's a job, like when you were trying to find us," Technofox said. "Thank you. I'm serious about that and I don't think it's funny. My point is that it's not something you'd choose to do." She patted his hand. She liked touching his hand.

David looked up at Technofox and then away. "I wish I could be sure," he said. "I see someone like her," he said, pointing at the cougar, "and then I do my finances and I wonder if I could afford a model like her. I've had days where I kept myself from researching what the payments would come to. I'm afraid I might be able to afford her. The problem is that that sort of unconditional affection and attention is appealing, even if you know it's fake."

The music changed, and Technofox frowned in thought. It was an instrumental cover of "Yesterday," which was not a piece she thought was particularly danceable; the contrast with the other piece was practically measurable. Her suspicions seemed justified; as though at a prearranged signal, the strippers milked a few more tips, finished up, and bounced down the runways towards the stage, naked and smiling and clutching their money and costumes. They all vanished stage right.

"I think you'd be a good master," Technofox heard herself say. It was, she realized, a dumb comment.

What if she had met David at Blue Diamond, someone normal and decent and fun to talk to? She would have counted herself lucky to be with him. Of course, someone like that probably wouldn't go to Blue Diamond ... and then she realized he had, and his name was Andrew.

She liked Andrew. She liked the presents he brought Firefox, and she liked the way he made Firefox happy. Andrew wasn't rich. He had a police disability pension that kept him alive and his photography more than paid for itself. The collection of preserves he had brought Firefox didn't make him miss any meals, but it did mean he had to put off downloading an album he wanted; generous people find ways to be generous.

She liked talking to him. If the four of them had met Andrew in the world, he would probably be a friend. They'd hang out and correspond and they'd look at his pictures, and Technofox would help him with his home network, and she would sometimes buy him equipment and pretend it was a hand-me-down.

But they had met in Blue Diamond, where slave women were for the pleasure of men, somewhere copulating was not merely casual but mandatory. And maybe they had accepted that, a little. It was easier to kneel respectfully in front of Tigre and lick her to satisfaction if sex wasn't important.

Once you started sleeping with someone, it was easy to keep sleeping with him.

She noticed she was fretting about Blue Diamond again. Could she ever have a relationship that wasn't touched by Blue Diamond? With an ache, she realized the answer was no. By definition, he was part of any relationship of hers, and she had been touched by Blue Diamond. And always would be.

What happens in Blue Diamond stays in Blue Diamond, the ads used to say. If only.

"I don't want to be any sort of a master," he said reluctantly, as though he thought it sounded phony.

"Exactly," she said, nodding and relieved he had made her point. "Well, if good people didn't sometimes want bad things, there would be no word for 'temptation.'" He looked uncomfortable, so Technofox thought it might be best to shift the conversation to something less emotional. "Did you have a chance to look at that memory image I got from Odenberg's apartment?"

"Oh, yes -- I've got it running as a virtual machine on my Compaq," he said. "He had an RGP partition. And it wasn't mirrored to the Web. He had to synchronize it by carrying portable media with him."

Technofox frowned. She hadn't noticed any portable media in Odenberg's apartment. "How big was the partition?"

"Fifteen gigs," he said.

"Crap," Technofox said. "RGP, are you sure?" she asked, hopefully. "Not "PGP or DGP?" She had the tools to crack Pretty Good Privacy, and ICON could crack Darn Good Privacy, but not even the NSA could crack a Really Good Privacy archive, unless they found different versions of the same archive. Since RGP wasn't a messaging system, that was unlikely.

It was a matter of key length, basically. When an encryption key was shorter than the data it encrypted, the key had to be repeated in order to encrypt all the data. Code breaking programs analyzed the data for repetitive patterns, and each time the key repeated itself the pattern was easier to work out. That was why long keys were more secure than short keys, and short messages more secure than long messages. The more often the key repeated, the more vulnerable the encrypted data was.

An RGP archive used a key as long as the archive itself. That meant that the key never repeated, and there were therefore no repetitive patterns to analyze. Unless they could find multiple versions of the same archive to compare to one another, the data might as well be random noise.

"Yeah, I'm sure," David said politely. "Fifteen gigs is an interesting number."

"Right," Technofox agreed. "Take a sixteen gig thumb drive, reserve one gig for ... I dunno, the system files for the thumb drive, bad sectors, maybe system updates, whatever -- and that leaves fifteen gigs for the key, so you're restricted to a sixteen gig archive."

"I was thinking the same." He scratched his nose. "If we found different, older versions of the same archive, then it might be possible to crack it that way."

"That's why Odenberg didn't synchronize it to the Web," Technofox said. "Every time someone backed up the server, they'd make it easier to crack the archive."

"No, but we know he kept a different version on each of his computers..." David said, brightening for a moment, and then looking crestfallen. "What am I thinking? With a fifteen gig key, we'd have to find hundreds or thousands of different copies."

Technofox laughed. "Maybe we'll get lucky," she said brightly.

He looked up and was about to say something, when the music from the speakers on the table paused. It wasn't well timed, really; they should have waited for the end of the song. It seemed like an offense to the spirit of the Beatles to use "Yesterday" as a signal and not even let it play out. The patrons went alert, something was obviously up.

"And now, on the main stage," came an announcer's voice, "Geronimo is proud to present the lovely Ebony."

A light snapped on, shining on a darkened part of the stage. Shadowfox was already there, crouched low, her head bowed. A faint stir of surprise waved across the audience; nobody had noticed her before the spot. The light wasn't bright; Technofox was pretty sure she had a flashlight that threw out more lumens; it was there to draw attention, and not to reveal.

Shadowfox's posture broke up the lines of her body and her fur drank the light; she had melted perfectly into the darkness. Still, now that she was highlighted, it was hard to believe the she would have been missed; in the same way an optical illusion can't be "un-seen" once it was seen. It was as though she had magically appeared when the spotlight clicked on.

The music started, a soft piano piece. Shadowfox rose slowly to her feet. Since she was digitgrade she was always walking on her toes, but she moved her feet and body to echo a ballet dancer coming to point. She was wearing a black cape over a white blouse and pleated knee-length skirt, very demure. Technofox was fairly certain she recognized the blouse: it was one of Silverfox's, made of an opaque material to conceal a shoulder holster. Shadow had probably draped the cape over the blouse to hide more effectively. As she stood, the cape dropped away. She moved slowly, with perfect balance. Her motion was somehow sad and distant, even shy and innocent. The lyrics came up softly.

"I've been looking for an original sin..."

They were sung by a woman with a slightly rough voice, instead of the synthetic smoothness that was so popular today. Technofox guessed the song was from the 1980s, back when female singers were still allowed to sound distinct from one another. The lyrics sounded not merely experienced, but debauched -- from a sensualist who had passed beyond sensation, was sated, but craved desire more than its satisfaction. They contrasted oddly with Shadowfox's movements.

Then the music started to kick up; Shadowfox started moving one leg to the drum. She let the beat move through her body, and snapped around with her back to the audience. Her tail bounced and the skirt moved slightly, hinting at the movement in her butt cheeks. She started to unbutton her blouse, starting low. She looked over her shoulder at the audience. There was something cold and calculating in her expression. It wasn't a look someone gave a lover; it was an animal in heat considering potential mates.

She went into some tight, abrupt twirls, her skirt spun out flat and flashed her blue bikini bottom, a tiny, rounded triangle in front, and a barely visible strap from behind. The lower buttons of her blouse were undone and her shirt tails spun out, flashing the fur over her hard midriff. Technofox shifted in her seat, both marveling at the control she was seeing and staring so she wouldn't miss any boob. She thought she caught a flash of chrome under Shadowfox's shirt.

Shadowfox reached to undo another button while spinning, but her wrist came up against a vertical pole. She glared at the pole for a moment, as though it had deliberately intervened to keep her from revealing more, turned away and then came at the pole from another direction, as though surprising it from behind. She launched herself up high.

She gripped the pole in both hands and pulled herself up; her feet had to be a good meter and a half over the stage. She swung her legs up and around, bringing her feet up above her head and letting them swing down the other way, as though she were the hands on an analog clock, her ankles describing a circle perpendicular to the floor. Applause broke out; and the only reason it wasn't sustained was that the audience didn't want to ruin the dance.

Somehow, her skirt came off during the spin. Technofox was sure both of Shadowfox's hands were on the pole when it released; she wondered how Shadow had done that. The vertical strap in the back of her panties was tucked between her cheeks. Now right side-up, Shadowfox brought her knees up, ground her crotch into the pole, and slid slowly down, her head back and eyes closed in pleasure. When she landed on the stage, she smirked contemptuously at the pole, as though she had just used it against its will.

The percussion changed, became harsher. Shadowfox was on her knees, bouncing to it, as she undid the remaining buttons on her blouse, facing the audience, but not allowing them to see anything she had not exposed already.

She sprang to her feet; slipping out of the blouse and leaving it behind. All she wore above her waist was a sled dog harness, made of chrome chain that flashed in the light. She landed lightly on all fours, butt to the audience. Her panties dropped off. She lifted her tail, presented, and looked over her shoulder invitingly. Her mouth opened, flashing white teeth and a pink tongue that matched the color between her legs.

The chorus sustained a note and the band stopped; only a piano played over the last lyrics:

"...

There will be Hell to pay some day,

put it all on the bill..."

There was more, but Technofox didn't hear it in the applause. She wasn't too upset at the noise, because she was making more than her share.

Shadowfox hopped up, brightly and energetically, with a girlish enthusiasm completely at odds with the song and the dance. She waved happily.

"I love you all!" she yelled. "Thank you!" The applause went up a notch, and she laughed, seemingly embarrassed, although, Technofox noticed, not so embarrassed she covered her breasts. Shadowfox waved awkwardly, beamed, and strode purposefully down a runway towards an occupied table.

"Do you see Korolev?" Technofox asked suddenly.

David was watching Shadowfox leave the stage. "No," David said, switching his gaze to the audience. He shook his head slightly. "Did you?"

"No. I guess he's not here tonight."

Shadowfox paused briefly near the occupied table. She squatted down and shook hands with two of the men there, and had a brief conversation: from her businesslike body language and stance Technofox suspected she was delaying briefly on her way elsewhere; in a rush, but being polite to the guests -- "I have to leave now, but I'll be right back soon" -- something along those lines.

Someone held a bill. That got Shadowfox's attention. The black vixen hopped off the runway, pushed her chest out to him. He tucked the bill into the chain that looped under Shadowfox's breast; she closed her eyes and moved slightly as though his touch gave her pleasure. She smiled at him, laughed at his joke, and turned, swishing him lightly with the white tip of her tail. Technofox looked steadily at the men at the table: had Shadowfox singled them out for some reason, or were they just on her way?

Shadowfox continued in a straight line towards the bar, on the opposite side of the room from the stage. To the left of the bar there was a short corridor which probably led to the bathroom. To the right there was another door, unmarked, made to fit the decor, and suspiciously innocuous in a way that made Technofox regard it distrustfully.

Shadowfox slipped behind the bar; the bartenders nodded at her and she said something back to them. Shadowfox then stepped into an alcove and turned right, going into a passageway that wasn't visible from the floor. Probably the dressing room, Technofox decided. She guessed that the table had just been on Technofox's way.

"Did you notice the door to the right of the bar?" Technofox asked.

"No, I didn't," David said, looking. "Those aren't the bathrooms -- those are to the left."

Technofox scanned the floor, thinking tactically. "The fire exits are alarmed. Looks like there's only one other way in -- the door we came in through."

"Maybe Shadow went to the dressing room?"

"I don't think so," Technofox said, musing. "When the dancers left the stage, they turned right -- towards the north wall." She frowned, trying to express herself clearly, hooking her hands to show the directions. "But when Shadowfox went behind the bar, she turned right -- towards the south wall." She pursed her lips. "See what I mean?"

"I get you. She turned away from where ever the dancers went. Where would dancers go if not to the dressing room?"

"Maybe she went to the VIP lounge," Technofox suggested.

A stripper came out on stage. She was Asian and had short hair, dyed a bright red. She wore a midriff-bearing ensemble with a red top, tight white hot pants with snaps on her hips, and black boots that reached her knees.

The red-haired dancer walked with a loose-limbed gait, kind of, but not quite, in time with the music. She kicked Shadow's blouse up against the curtain in the back of the stage. It lay there for a moment, and then vanished, as though slurped up by a blouse-slurping curtain-dweller. Technofox wondered if she were a dancer, or just there to keep the stage tidy. It seemed unlikely they'd have a stagehand dress up...

David smacked himself in the forehead. "Of course." He looked around. "I'll ask about the VIP room at the bar. Would you like anything?" he asked. "I was going to get a Mozambique Drill anyway."

"Oh," Technofox said. She wasn't sure what that was, but it probably had something to do with two for belly, and one for the head. "I'd like a coffee. Plain black, no sugar."

"You sure?"

"I'm driving," she said apologetically. "And alcohol really hits me hard."

"Okay," he nodded, and got up.

Technofox gritted her teeth. Was she being too formal and distant? Should she have accepted something alcoholic? Was he trying to get her too drunk to resist his advances, she hoped?

The red-haired dancer came down the runway nearest Technofox. Technofox froze. When she had come to the strip club, she had not considered the possibility that she might be approached by a pretty, scantily-clad woman.

The dancer knelt down, a little unsteadily. She wasn't quite used to her boots. "Hello," she said, just a little bit too distinctly, as though she were speaking to someone who spoke English badly, if at all.

"Hello," Technofox replied automatically. The dancer's pants had fasteners on the hips. Women wore clothes like that in Blue Diamond to provide access even when their ankles were chained. The dancer probably wore them so she wouldn't need to take her boots off.

"Would your owner like to watch me give you a lap dance?" the dancer asked. She spoke with her voice lowered.

The dancer assumed that she was David's pet, and that she was there for him, and was offering to help her amuse him. The fox was about to say no, but the dancer was down low, her breasts jiggling slightly in her top, like scoops of Jell-O yearning to break free. And maybe Technofox wanted to make a point.

"I'd like you to give me a lap dance," Technofox said instead. She felt a little irritated, and it made her feel aggressive. "I'm paying, and I want it to be for me."

The dancer's eyes widened slightly with surprise, and immediately Technofox felt guilty. After all, it had been a reasonable assumption for her to make. "Okay," the human said. She forced a grin. "We'll have fun."

David came back, holding a tall orange drink in one hand and a coffee in the other. "Good evening," he said, looking at the dancer. He put the drinks down, the coffee next to Technofox.

"Hi," the dancer said. "My name's Cutie, and you'll have to get in line." Cutie playfully scritched the front of his shirt with her fingernail, and gave him a long, sultry look as he sat down. Cutie guided Technofox's chair clear of the table and undid the snap that held her white pants tight on her hips. She undid them and took them off, showing a sparse patch of black pubic hair and a garter high around one leg. She wasn't wearing stockings, and Technofox suspected it was for stuffing folding money. Cutie turned around. "Hold these for me, honey?" she asked David, bending over to give Technofox a good look at her butt.

"Sure," David replied, taking them.

Cutie had a scar there. Makeup had been applied to cover it, but it had rubbed off. Technofox looked at it intently, worried. It didn't look like something from a flogging -- more like two small punctures.

Technofox relaxed, breathing out slowly. She had reflexively looked at Cutie for signs that Tigre had worked her over. And that was entirely unnecessary, she told herself. Most of the slaves in the sex industry weren't just to look at, so Cutie was probably a free citizen, here voluntarily. And after her shift was over, she'd go to her apartment. Not to a cage.

"Did you ever sit on a snake?" Technofox asked.

Cutie paused, shocked, and burst into laughter. She faced Technofox, grinning. "Good eyes. Yes."

"Ouch," David said. "Well, so it wasn't a lucky vampire?"

"Not too lucky -- I was only twelve," Cutie said.

"I won't make the obvious joke about kissing it to make it better," David said. "I'm sure you're tired of hearing it."

"Thanks, I appreciate that." She reached around and rubbed the area absently. "I've been thinking about getting the scar removed, but it kinda gives my tush character, I think. If I had that done it'd be for the job, and once you do that you're getting your tits inflated and a rib removed and you might as well be a -- " she caught herself. "Statue," she said instead.

Technofox pretended not to notice her slip as Cutie moved to sit down on her lap, facing her. Cutie was just a bit hesitant; Technofox wondered if she had ever been this close to a chimera before, or if it was just that Technofox was small and appeared frail. Cutie twitched her head to move a lock of dyed red hair out of her eyes. "Is that comfortable?" she asked Technofox.

"Yes. You're not heavy," Technofox replied.

"I never drink anything sweet. Have you had a lap dance in Atlanta before?"

"No," Technofox said, "But I read the EULA on the display," she said, pointing to the computer screen on the table.

"I've never met someone who read those," Cutie said, surprised. "Anyway, the gist is that you can't touch me. I will touch you, but if you're uncomfortable with that, just let me know and I'll stop right away."

"Has that ever happened?" Technofox asked curiously. It seemed like an odd thing to say. Maybe it was mandated?

"No, but I've never danced for a chimera before."

Oh, Technofox thought. Okay, she was a little bit nervous then. Reasonable.

"The way this works is you get one song, starting when this one ends. Okay?"

"Understood," Technofox said seriously, and she had to keep herself from repeating the instructions, as though it were a drill.

Cutie smiled and slid in closer, putting her arm around Technofox, and her cleavage directly in her face. Technofox suddenly remembered she was wearing a gun in a shoulder holster. She lowered her left arm and hoped Cutie wouldn't pat her down. Legally, she knew, she was in a good position -- she was with David and had a bodyguard permit, and she hadn't seen any posted notices about firearms in this place, but it wouldn't be surprising if Cutie panicked if she found a gun unexpectedly. It wouldn't be illegal, but it would be very unpleasant. "Are you okay?" Cutie asked.

"I have a bodyguard concealed carry permit and I'm armed. I should probably take the weapon off."

"Is the safety on?" Cutie asked, sitting very still.

"Of course," Technofox said, lifting her eyebrows.

"It's okay then," Cutie said, relaxing. "Guns don't scare me. I'm from Texas and my daddy's a sheriff. It's under your left arm?"

"Right. I mean, correct."

"Okay. I won't go near it. Thanks for letting me know. I'd hate to set off another accidental discharge."

Technofox looked aghast. "Someone had a lap dance while wearing a gun with a chambered round?" Untrained people did stupid things with guns, but that seemed to go beyond mere stupidity into stupid of the sort that wrapped the fabric of space-time around it and formed its own pocket universe of stupid.

"It wasn't a gun," Cutie explained.

"Oh." Technofox wondered how management reacted when that happened here. In Blue Diamond, Tigre would usually take the girl off the floor and slap her around a bit, unless everyone pretended that it hadn't happened. It was harder to get money out a man who had just climaxed for free; it was against the rules, but Master understood it happened from time to time; so it wasn't one of the big rules.

For the little rules, it was better to let Tigre knock you down after a few blows and cry if you could; for something more serious but not big enough to be worth a flogging, you were better off staying on your feet for as long as possible, because Tigre would kick you when you were on the floor and that was worse than being slapped. Even though Geronimo wasn't a brothel, the same principle probably applied. In fact, it was probably a flogging offense here because the police might --

What was she thinking? They didn't flog the dancers here. Her mind kept racing down those corridors.

Hesitating, Cutie put out a hand and gently stroked the line of Technofox's jaw. Technofox sat very still, as though not to frighten off a skittish animal. "That feels nice," she said, keeping her eyes open. "Very soft."

At that moment, the song stopped, and a new one started.

Cutie leaned back, and undid a snap on her top. "You don't have to look in my eyes," she said. "This is for you. I'm here for you to look at."

Technofox looked down as Cutie undid another snap. She rose slightly from Technofox's lap and started moving her hips back and forth, in a slow rhythm older than music. Her tongue flickered at her lips. She closed her eyes and turned her head, as though in pleasure. The song playing wasn't important. Cutie was not dancing so much as she was miming copulation.

Her breasts came into view, and Technofox swallowed. Surgery or not, they were nice; between Shadow and Fire's in size, sagging only slightly under their weight. Cutie shrugged and dropped her top to the floor.

Cutie ground her naked crotch into Technofox's lap, stroked her own breasts, from the sides and ran her fingertips over her nipples, tweaking the puckered pink flesh, moving her breasts slightly, to show their weight and how they jiggled, all the while contorting her face in pleasure.

She rested her weight on Technofox's lap, and stopped moving her hips. Cutie leaned forward and brushed her breasts against Technofox's muzzle: Technofox smelled the tang of human flesh, traces of a deodorant soap, and when Cutie gasped in mock ecstasy and her breath wafted across Technofox's nose, toothpaste and mouthwash. Cutie smelled fresh and clean and womanly, without heavy perfume that masked instead of enhancing.

Technofox suppressed a quiver, fighting against the desire to taste her. She hoped Cutie would move her chest back; Technofox wasn't sure if she could resist the temptation. Unfortunately, Cutie moved closer, pulled her breasts apart and pushed them together on either side of Technofox's muzzle. She moved back slowly, moving the insides of her breasts against the fur of Technofox's jaw. Technofox bit her lips to keep her tongue in her mouth. Still, at some level, she wasn't fooled: Cutie didn't smell excited.

The little fox shuddered and gasped. If Technofox was this stimulated, what must it be like for a human male, who would feel the inside of Cutie's legs rubbing against an erect penis, who wouldn't miss the fragrance of a woman's amour? She could easily imagine they might climax.

To Technofox's relief, Cutie took it down a few notches after that; presenting her body to Technofox, displaying herself and giving her a good look instead of touching her. Technofox suspected she worked out: her muscles were well defined, and her small, busty frame reminded her of Victoria.

The song ended, and Cutie relaxed.

"Oboy," Technofox gulped. She laughed, and Cutie laughed back.

"I like the way your fur feels." Cutie said. She touched the end of Technofox's nose lightly, experimentally. "Beep." She got off Technofox's lap, and reached down for her top. Technofox got her wallet and fished out two twenties, so they'd be ready when Cutie turned around. Cutie beamed on seeing them, and presented her hip to Technofox. The vixen tucked the bills into her garter, accidentally scratching her lightly with her claws.

Cutie fished one of the twenties out. "Give them to me one at a time," Cutie suggested. "Then you get to touch me twice."

"Thank you," Technofox said, taking the bill back and repeating the process. "I'll remember that."

"Thank you," Cutie said. "You're sweet." She leaned down and gave Technofox a peck on the top of her head, and brought her breasts close to her muzzle one last time. Technofox gulped and clenched her teeth. Cutie smiled at her -- did she know how hard Technofox had to fight to keep from taking those nipples into her mouth? If she did, Technofox suspected she wouldn't be quite so relaxed around her.

Cutie turned to David, who handed her her pants. "You don't want me to put these back on, do you?" she asked.

David laughed. "Not really," he said. "When does your shift end?"

"Eleven." Cutie smiled politely, but there was a trace of frustration there -- this was probably the best moment to make a sale, and she hadn't made it.

"Then I'd better get on your queue before it fills up," David said. He put his hand over the screen in the middle of the table, and again the image flipped so it was right side up to him. How did it do that? Technofox wondered. Maybe infrared sensors? Yes, those could detect the orientation of his hand and from that derive the position of his body. "Do I need to do it through the computer?" he asked. "I don't want to cut in line."

Cutie turned her wrist and looked at the bracelet she was wearing on her left arm. "No, I'm available now," Cutie said. Technofox was impressed. She had assumed it was costume jewelry. Reflexively, she turned her head slightly to bring Cutie's wrist into the arc of the yagi antenna built into her mandible. Cutie's bracelet was a Bluetooth device. Technofox guessed there was an LED built into it that could be used to send messages.

"People have no taste," David said. Cutie smiled shyly, charmed or pretending to be. "Do you need to freshen up?"

"Thanks for offering, but I'm okay," Cutie said.

Technofox wondered if the computer logged dances, and if Cutie was trying to avoid that. Maybe management took a cut? Technofox did Shadowfox's finances, but different clubs had different rules, and it was unlikely that Cutie cut the same deal that a touring performer like "Ebony" could. David pulled away from the table and let her sit on his lap.

"His is less boney than mine," Technofox said.

Cutie froze for a moment, and Technofox sensed she had read the dancer's mind. "I wouldn't say that," Cutie lied politely, and then, to David, with a touch of lascivious humor in her tones. "Are you packing? Aside from the obvious," she said, rising her eyebrows and moving one leg slightly, as though appraising an erection through his pants.

"No, I'm not," David replied. For an instant, Technofox froze. Did he really go around without a weapon? Well, that wouldn't be too surprising. ICON did have range requirements, but they weren't demanding, and the mandatory combat course was just used to evaluate agents for assignments. Shadowfox almost never carried a pistol, and a gun would be more of a hindrance than an aid in most of David's cases.

Still, she kicked herself. She had failed to maximize her chances in a fight again -- this time by assuming she was with an armed agent when she was not. She hoped Firefox wouldn't ask.

"Comfy?" Cutie asked him.

"Very," he replied.

The song ended and Cutie sat with her hands on his shoulders for a moment. Since they were on the other side of the table, Technofox wasn't quite sure what Cutie was doing with her hips, but Technofox could guess from her own experience, from how Cutie's spine moved, from David's reaction.

As Cutie took off her top, she shifted her weight up slightly, and Technofox was certain he was erect and Cutie was stroking his shaft through his pants. She wondered how that felt -- if it was as nice as having Firefox touch her clitoris. Or was there something fundamentally different in the way a human male's brain was wired -- was this enticing for him, or frustrating? Did he need to insert it to enjoy it? She thought of Blue Diamond; the men there had always put it into her.

Well, David seemed to be having fun, so maybe a guy could enjoy play without insertion. It suddenly struck her that the men here paid money so women would pretend to have foreplay with them. Of course, she had just done the same.

Cutie stopped moving her hips, and didn't touch David's face with her breasts as she had with Technofox. Technofox wondered why. Maybe Cutie had gone further than she should with Technofox. Was it to get a dance from David? Maybe Cutie slipped up and treated Technofox as a fellow entertainer? Was it because doggies didn't count? Was Cutie trying to show she didn't think of Technofox as a doggie? Was Cutie curious about the way Technofox's fur would feel? Technofox shook her head. If she kept thinking along those lines she'd fool herself into thinking that Cutie was interested in her.

And there was, she had to admit, something compelling in the fact that she could have any woman dancing here squirming naked in her lap for a scrap of paper. Shadowfox had appeared in venues in Boston; Technofox wondered if there were any nice ones near their apartment. She had found a new, albeit expensive, pastime.

The song ended, and Cutie gradually withdrew from David with feigned reluctance as she beamed into his face. She looked back at Technofox, and Technofox could see some honest curiosity there. Or was Technofox imagining it, the way she sometimes imagined people found her attractive.

"Are you here for Ebony?" Cutie asked David. She had second thoughts about the question, obviously. "If you don't mind my asking," she added, lamely, putting her pants and top back on. It wasn't an unreasonable guess. David was either Technofox's owner or friend, and either way he might have a fur fetish.

"Actually, we came here because a friend wanted an order of wings," David said. "But then we thought it would be fun to check it out." Technofox noticed he didn't mention knowing Shadowfox -- she appreciated his leaving that open. "And it has been. Thank you," he said, sliding two more bills into Cutie's garter.

Technofox looked away, and the smile vanished from her face.

She would never have bought a lap dance before.

She couldn't kid herself. She didn't hire Cutie because she was in love with the dancer. She hired her because Cutie looked nice, had a good rack, and because Technofox wanted Cutie, naked, close to her. It was a perfectly normal lust and there was nothing wrong with that, but before she hadn't felt normal lust.

She had a boyfriend before. Ted was nice to her, and she slept with him because it was normal to sleep with men. And Ted tried to make her feel good, and she pretended to feel good just like Cutie feigned ecstasy. Instead of money it was because Technofox liked Ted and she didn't want him to feel bad about himself. She had felt none of the passion she had just felt for Cutie -- the sense that she had to feel him naked, to run her tongue over him. She had felt none of the satisfaction she felt with Firefox, holding the beautiful woman glowing after an orgasm, secure that she was a good enough lover to bring a woman as lovely and experienced as Firefox over the brink.

And it wasn't just because she loved Firefox. She didn't love Cutie, and she would rather kiss Firefox than take Cutie to bed, but Technofox had thoroughly enjoyed Cutie's performance. She loved and lusted for Firefox. She lusted for Cutie. But she did Ted a favor.

She wished she were gay. Then she could stick with Firefox and the others, and she could pretend her failure with Ted -- Ted's failure with her; whatever -- had just been because she hadn't known her own mind. It wasn't because there was anything wrong with Ted, or with her. It was just her own mistake. And not because there was anything wrong with her.

But she knew that wasn't it. She hadn't lusted for Ted because she had known him before.

Before Blue Diamond.

She had never been excited in bed until she was chained to one, with a man who used her without her consent.

She remembered what Cheshire had told her: Blue Diamond girls were actors. How she wished that were true. Cutie was an actor. Technofox was not.

"Isn't there a VIP lounge here, or something like that?" David asked. "I mean, some place with a little more privacy?"

Cutie perked up. perhaps smelling another shot at selling a dance. "Oh, yes ..." she thought some more and looked crestfallen. "...No, not tonight, it's closed for a private party."

"That's a shame," David said. "Thank you for the dance. It's hard to believe that someone as pretty as you doesn't have a full queue, though."

Cutie smiled hesitantly, and Technofox wondered if it was genuine. "I'm looking forward to it," she said, and Technofox realized it wasn't. Technofox considered asking her where the dressing room was, but realized that question had to be a red flag for a dancer.

Cutie dallied for a moment, as though reluctant to leave. At first, Technofox thought that was because Cutie had just made eighty dollars in fourteen minutes, but for no good reason she doubted it -- it wasn't as though any more money would be forthcoming, unless Cutie wanted to conduct a private transaction. Technofox looked at her, and cocked her head enquiringly.

"Uhm, it's not any of my business and I shouldn't ask," Cutie said, "but you said you two were friends?"

"Friends and business associates," David said. "We work on computer networks."

Technofox smiled. She got it. "Yes. It's okay. Sit down, please." Cutie glanced about and did, perhaps wondering if she should pretend to be giving a table dance. "I'd guess you don't know many chimerae," Technofox opened.

"Not really," Cutie admitted.

Shadowfox came out from behind the bar. She looked around the floor and walked towards the stage, meeting the eyes of several patrons, as though evaluating them as potential customers. She looked directly at Technofox without changing her expression, and then made eye contact with David. The black fur on her face made her expression difficult to read, but it was obvious she suppressed a smile.

Looking back at the stage, Shadowfox absently raised her hand and with a single claw, scratched from her temple down to her jaw, incidentally moving a lock of hair out of her face. That was the "All is Well" sign. Technofox carefully kept her hands clasped, so she wouldn't make an inadvertent gesture Shadowfox might misinterpret.

"Isn't she something?" Cutie gushed, in a way that seemed to hint at latent lesbianism, but probably didn't. "A real Blue Diamond Girl," she said admiringly.

"I wouldn't say that to her," David said carefully.

Cutie blinked, and considered. "Oh, I see what you mean," she said, chastened. "I meant it nicely."

"I'm sure you did," Technofox said, to reassure all three of them.

"And she's really nice, too," Cutie said. "The management gave her a basket of fruit and she insisted on sharing it with everyone." Technofox nodded. Shadowfox wasn't particularly fond of fruit. "She also buys pizzas. She lives up in Boston, and nobody owns her."

"The term's self-owning," Technofox said. When Cutie looked at her, Technofox explained. "By Federal law, an artificial intelligence has to have an owner. She's probably owned by a company that she owns. That's how it usually works out, legally. It's kind of weird." Technofox, of course, had set up and maintained Foxforce LLC.

"What's the difference between being self-owning and legally human?" Cutie asked. "I always hear them say 'Self-owning and legally human citizen' but I'm not sure what that really means."

"There's different rights involved," Technofox said. "A slave is legally human without being self-owning. I assume you're a free US citizen of legal age? You mentioned before that your father's a sheriff."

"...Yeah," Cutie said. She hesitated. "Mom used to be a slave, but Dad bought her and freed her before I was born. So I was kind of lucky -- if I were born while she was still a slave, I'd be one too."

State follows the mother. Technofox always wondered if that law was evil -- so a slave owner could sell his own children -- or practical -- the birth mother can always be identified, but the father can't always be.

Well, Technofox thought, that explained why Cutie was curious: she had some slaves in her family history, and maybe a good case of 'There but the Grace of God...' David shifted slightly, and Cutie quickly looked over at him, probably expecting him to recoil in horror from sharing a table with a slave's daughter. "Your father sounds like a hell of a guy," he said, obviously impressed. "Buying a slave and freeing her's about as expensive as giving someone a house. Not many people would do that."

Cutie's face split into a relieved grin and she nodded. "Yeah, Dad's an old-school abolitionist. He said the only thing he regretted about doing it was that buying my mom was like agreeing someone had a right to sell her."

"Nicely put," David said.

"So you know rights aren't like flipping a switch," Technofox said. "There's a whole continuum of rights you can have. Since you're a free human of legal age you automatically get a bunch of rights that sometimes get doled out piecemeal."

"I get that," Cutie said politely.

"'Self Owning' means Ebony can choose where she works and keep what she earns, after paying taxes -- she's got economic rights that a slave doesn't. 'Legally Human' is sort of like having a slave's rights -- in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts she can get married, killing her is murder -- 'Legally Human' is about her right to live in society. 'Citizen' means she can participate politically by voting in local and Commonwealth elections. Someday maybe she'll be able to vote in Federal elections too."

"Slaves have rights?"

"Sure. If you think of it, even animals have rights -- a person can be arrested if they set fire to their dog, or train them to fight, so in a way you can say that even food animals have a right to a clean death."

"Is that really a right, though?" Cutie asked.

Technofox nodded. "I'm sure there's plenty of humans in camps in Europe who wish they had it. Heck, Nazi labor camps are probably the only place in the world where people have no legal rights at all. Soviet camps aren't much better, if at all. Farm animals literally have better legal protection than someone in a labor camp."

"Yeah, I guess," Cutie admitted.

"In this country, slaves can't be killed by their owners, so they're way ahead of farm animals. Nowadays, you can't even sell a minor child to anyone but the owner of one of the parents -- that was a huge political issue back when McClellan was President. Since Blue Diamond burned down, a slave even has the right to communicate privately with anyone who wants to talk with them."

"It's not enough," Cutie said.

"Of course not," Technofox agreed. She pointed at David. "Georgia doesn't recognize self-ownership for chimerae. I'm owned by a company incorporated in Massachusetts. David rents me from that company. That's called a proxy arrangement. Ebony probably has a proxy, too -- most likely a human friend she trusts, someone who can sign for her when she's out of Massachusetts."

"She has to do that? Sounds like a big risk."

"It's a risk," Technofox agreed. She smiled. "That's why I live in Boston too. Of course, the proxy takes a risk too..."

"Not much of one," David explained. "Basically, I can be sued because of things Technofox does. So if she broke into someone's apartment I could be liable. For her, it's like trusting someone who can sell you to Siberia, and for me it's like being financially or even criminally responsible for someone else."

"Getting a good proxy is a huge deal," Technofox said. "You know how married people kill one another all the time? Most chimera committing homicide kill their owner or proxy."

"So I'm very, very nice to Technofox," David said.

"If I could make one minor tweak to Federal law," Technofox said, "I'd require jurisdictions to give full faith and credence to self-ownership. David and I have a good proxy relationship, but it's still pretty ridiculous -- why should he have to sign my Federal taxes?" She shrugged. "Besides, it's just silly that my legal status depends on the state I happen to be in any time."

"It must be hard to keep straight."

"There's a web site with a map of the world," Technofox said. "You can click on different places to see what your rights are. It helps a lot."

"And what about that brain implant thing?" Cutie asked. "Does it change the way you think?"

"It's just a communications device," David said.

"Well... that's not entirely true," Technofox corrected him. "It's primarily a communications device, like your bracelet. You can use it to send and receive simple pre-arranged messages, but you can also monitor brain activity. It can't tell what I'm thinking, but it can tell if ... I'm really happy, or in pain, or asleep."

They had done a lot of that in Blue Diamond, Technofox knew. Tigre had very possibly monitored how much pain and stress she was inflicting. Sometimes screaming and begging worked on Tigre -- but maybe that was the behavior she wanted. Tigre in her brain was a frightening thought, but not as frightening as the possibility Blue Diamond had used positive reinforcement as well. It was the only way to explain Silverfox's conversion from a promiscuous lesbian to a promiscuous bisexual.

Maybe they hadn't stopped at Silverfox...

"Ebony used hers to order pizza," Cutie said.

"She probably had her cell phone in her purse or something," Technofox explained, "and a wireless connection to the cell phone. The implant doesn't have enough power to work as a cell phone, but you can use it to control a cell phone. Did she have a plug in her ear? That was the mike and speaker."

"Oh." Cutie had her head on her hand, and looked at Technofox thoughtfully for a moment. "You know," she said, "I never really talked to a chimera before Ebony came here. I think she's the first self-owning legally human chimera I've talked to. It was kind of weird, at first, and then she's like any other girl here, and then the other day I realized I was making jokes about the patrons with someone who isn't human. I guess that sounds stupid," she said apologetically.

"Not to me," David said. "I grew up in New York and there were always a few chimerae around, but I can understand it's a bit weird if you're really meeting them for the first time. Anything takes a little getting used to." He nodded to Technofox. "People have body language, and a chimera's is a bit non-human. You're talking to her, but her reactions are just a bit off, and that makes you feel a bit nervous, because you're a nice person and you don't want to offend her."

"And then there's the whole head-of-a-fox thing," Technofox said. "People notice that."

They laughed, and Cutie looked at Technofox.

"Thanks for taking me seriously," Cutie said finally.

"Likewise," Technofox replied. She put out her hand. Cutie hesitated a moment, and shook it firmly. Cutie then shook David's, stood, and stepped away. Her walk turned more saucy with each step, and by the time she swung up onto the runway she had adopted a near-skip timed, Technofox noticed, to coincide with the harmonic frequency of her breasts, thereby maximizing the amplitude of her jiggleage.

"Did you mean what you said?" Technofox asked.

"About what?" David said.

"About freeing slaves."

"Sure," David replied. He hesitated. "I'm sorry if I scared you before, talking about wanting to buy one."

"It's okay," Technofox said. "I don't think you'd actually do that." She patted his hand again.

And she let her hand rest on his.

He looked back at her.

On impulse, she leaned closer to him, across the table. She closed her eyes and parted her lips; his mouth tasted of orange juice and vodka. The tip of her tongue flicked between his lips, feather light, inviting a response.

He didn't recoil, not exactly; but he didn't respond in kind either. As she moved back, he looked off at a slight angle. Technofox's spirits sank.

"Sorry," she said.

"No, don't be," he replied hastily, a little too hastily. "The truth is, you're very attractive ... but Shadowfox and I, well..."

"Oh," Technofox said.

"And she's a very sweet girl and I don't want to hurt her," he said.

Technofox sat, very still. What could she possibly say to that?

'You wouldn't,' she thought. 'She fucks all the agents we meet.' Or 'Don't worry, you mean nothing to her.' Or 'Oh, she's just pretending to like you.' No, there was nothing she could say that was both honest and wouldn't sound like a lie from an angry, jealous, and vicious woman.

"No," she said, finally. "We don't want that."

"I'm sorry," he said. He put out his hand. "Friends?" he asked.

And this, Technofox thought, this is where I'm supposed to take his hand, beam and say 'Friends,' and pretend that everything's just fine, that I'm not disappointed and hurt, and that in your eyes I'm in second place at best, and that I'm perfectly okay with that. And as icing on the cake, I'm supposed to pretend I'm all right with losing out to a woman who isn't even particularly attracted to you, someone who's just saying the right words and smiling the right smiles and is leading you around as though she had you on a leash.

If Shadowfox really liked David, would this hurt more or less?

Technofox put out her hand and smiled. "Friends," she said, beaming.

This, she decided, would be a good time to go home. His drink was still three quarters full, so she didn't raise the possibility; instead, she took her coffee -- cold, now -- and took a hearty gulp, as though to encourage him to quaff his drink more quickly. She put it back down, so the empty cup would accuse him of dawdling. And she knew she shouldn't do that -- it would make her look hurt and angry, and since she was hurt and angry she didn't want to look that way. No, the right thing to do was to change the subject, talk about work, and segue into a gracious "Oh dear -- look at the time."

She tried to think of something work related they needed to talk about, but her mind was a blank. The door to the restaurant opened, and someone came in. Technofox looked up hopefully; maybe this would be something to talk about. She stared, hoping to spot something interesting she could comment on.

Technofox's ears perked and rotated to catch sound; natural sensors taken from animals unrelated to fox or human probed the new arrival; a directional antenna hunted for a cell phone.

The new arrival was tall; she wore a black trench coat. Her skin was dark and her hair was short -- no, it was done in a bun; a light shade of blonde. Technofox was impressed; her hair had to be naturally black, and it was hard to get such a pale color to cover black so well. An unescorted woman in a strip bar? Maybe she worked here, or she was thinking of working here; it was hard to tell under the coat but she probably had the looks for it. Or she was a prostitute looking for a client, or she was going to meet someone, or she liked girls ... Cutie had made it pretty clear this was a gay-friendly facility ... she didn't have a cell phone, at least not turned on; she had no electronic signature. Not into gadgets? Not even a cell phone? She had enough money for nice clothes... yes, there was plenty there to talk about with David.

Then she took a step, her booted foot touching the ground softly, followed by another. Technofox knew that footfall. She heard it, and she was on her back, and she was sore and there was a man in her and on her and there would be another man after that ... And thoughts of talking to David vanished from her mind as it all came together; the blonde dye didn't have to be all that good because it was covering white hair, not black.

Technofox sat quietly, not daring to move. She seriously doubted her sanity. She couldn't be right. She had to be imagining it was Lilith. Yes, she looked like Lilith and her footstep sounded like Lilith's, but Lilith wasn't a human; she was a product grown to specification, like her clone sisters. She might just be another Dryad-9, or a black human who happened to look like a model. No, it couldn't be Lilith. it was hard to see her build under the trench coat, but she looked ... a little dumpier? Had she gained weight? Or was she in armor?

No, it couldn't be Lilith. Why would Lilith kill a man, and then stay in town? It made no sense.

Moving would draw attention. Her hackles rose, softly. She couldn't suppress that. From this angle, she would see Technofox backlit from the stage, and since Technofox was facing her directly, her snout wouldn't show. Carefully, she folded her ears. That would make Technofox's silhouette more human. And speaking of ears, the woman's ears were rounded and short, like a human's... it changed her appearance a lot.

"Tech, I'm so sorry," David said, in a conversational tone. "Do you want me to drive you home?"

Technofox flinched; she was amped up and his voice sounded as loud as a gunshot. Just as bad, she was couldn't make sense of what he had said. He was continuing the conversation they had been having; all he knew is that her ears had suddenly folded as though in terror or rage or supplication. Technofox's brain was working in an entirely different mode, and she had lost the thread of the conversation. She found it again, and was quite touched -- it was a sweet offer to make.

But that raised another problem. She wasn't sure that was Lilith yet. David had already seen her freak out after smelling Lilith's panties. If she started pointing at random people and declared they were Lilith, he'd think she was truly out of her mind.

But it might be Lilith, and Technofox couldn't risk blowing a crack at her.

Technofox moved her head slowly, keeping Lilith -- no, "the subject" -- keeping her in sight and making sure her snout wasn't visible. Movement drew the eye, so it was a risk, but less of a risk than standing out as a chimera. She walked clear across the floor, almost, picked a secluded table, away from the runways. Away from the cluster of patrons. Close to an alarmed fire exit. Why would someone here to see the girls pick that table?

No, it couldn't be Lilith. Why would Lilith stay in Atlanta? And even if she were stupid enough to hang around town, why would she come to this particular strip joint?

...An image flashed in her memory. A poster. "Ebony." There had to be posters around town, advertising, websites...

That decided her. It had only taken a moment or two. But she wanted to keep David's regard. She had to phrase it carefully.

"The woman who just walked in," Technofox said. "I think she's a chimera. A Dryad-9D. With trimmed ears."

Would he remember the model number and make the connection from there? Yes; he was a techie geek like her; he thought in terms of model numbers. She heard his throat close and his heart kick up in surprise. But he was a good man and he didn't flinch or cry out or do anything that would draw attention to himself.

"Where is she?" he asked, his voice low.

"Table at the North Wall," Technofox replied. "By the fire door closer to the bar."

The lighting was low, but Technofox could see her look over at the bar. It was a natural thing for a patron to do -- but it was also natural for a kidnapper or assassin; in the unlikely event there was a gun anywhere, it would probably be behind the bar. The subject was against a wall, she had easy access to an exit -- an alarmed exit, but if she needed a quick exit alarms would be going off anyway -- it was a lousy table to see the girls, but a good position in a fight.

Technofox decided she could risk moving her head and showing her snout. If that was Lilith, she was almost clear across the floor, and had no reason to look at her. Technofox looked for security. Two bouncers, by the stage, looking amiable and relaxed instead of the intent and grim Secret Service look they would probably get if they were edgy.

"Should I look at her?" he asked.

"Not yet. I'm not sure it's her," Technofox said.

"So you need a good look at her?" he asked.

"I'm a chimera," Technofox said unnecessarily. "I'd have to stare." She considered. "I'd have to get too close to smell her."

He nodded. "If she's Lilith, she doesn't know me."

"Good point."

"What if I got her talking? Could you recognize her voice?"

Technofox hesitated. It was pretty loud in the bar, but her ears were directional. "I'd need to be closer." She considered. "I'll go to the bar. Give me a few minutes after I'm seated. Then approach her. After, come back here. Don't approach me; she'll probably be watching you."

"Right. You should probably stay at the bar. We don't want her noticing that we're getting together. Send me an email if you're sure it's her; give me a call if you're sure she isn't. The tones on my phone are different. I won't answer, but you'll get your message across."

"Good idea," Technofox said, impressed. It was fascinating to see how humans could work around the disadvantage of not having cerebral implants. She stood up. "So you'll try to pick her up?"

"Yeah."

"What if it isn't Lilith and she accepts?"

He snorted. "Like that's going to happen."

Technofox chuckled and went to the bar. Along the way, she realized there was no way she could disguise her silhouette while walking across the floor, so she lifted her ears to a more natural, relaxed position. Sitting down, she twitched them to face the subject, on the off chance she might start talking to herself.

The bartender came over. "What'll it be, girl?"

The service would have to be good, wouldn't it? "Just a Coke, thank you."

"Anything in it?"

Technofox grimaced. "Don't tempt me. I'm driving."

He chuckled and half-filled a glass with shaved ice, adding soda with a gun on a flexible hose, and, with an odd flourish, added a slender straw and a little folding umbrella piercing a cherry. Technofox wondered for a moment if bar garnishes were some sort of elaborate code understood only by the Wait Staff Conspiracy. Smiling slightly, she took a sip, then pulled out her phone and started composing an email which she'd send if it turned out to be Lilith. She addressed it to the other three and to David, so they'd all get the alert.

What was the best way to proceed if it were Lilith? She might be armed, and getting into a gunfight inside a bar would be very bad ... better to lurk outside and nail her as she left.

She had the email ready when she heard David's footsteps, muffled at first, then louder as he drew nearer to the focus of Technofox's ears. "Hello," he said amiably. "I was wondering if I could buy you a drink."

"Why, thank you," Lilith said. "That would be lovely, but I'm meeting a friend here, and my whole evening's shot. Can I just give you my email and a rain check?"

It was Lilith. And she was getting rid of David in a way much more effective than 'Get lost, creep.' Technofox was about to send the email, when she realized she'd have to tell Firefox that Lilith was right next to a fire exit and was probably planning on using it. Oh, and she forgot to flag it URGENT...

As she was about to press the SEND button, David's phone rang. Technofox froze for an instant. He had gotten a phone call from someone else. What were the odds?

David patted his phone, to make it go to voicemail. "Sorry about that," he apologized. "Certainly, I don't want to intrude. Here's my card."

"Thank you -- David," Lilith said, looking at the card, probably. "And I'm sorry, but could you be a sweetie and leave before my friend shows up? He thinks three's a crowd."

Technofox pressed SEND. David now thought it wasn't Lilith. Would that be a problem? Maybe not -- whether or not it was Lilith, he'd want to break contact... Technofox turned her head to see what was going on.

Shadowfox was wearing a white camisole and panties, a pretty pink ribbon around her neck. She was just a few feet behind David. Lilith had her head turned down, reading or pretending to read the card. Technofox stared, frozen in horror. What the hell? Had Shadowfox suddenly decided to wander around the floor?

Shadow had moved too quietly for Technofox to hear. Technofox looked at her phone. It was still trying to connect to send the email. If only she had pressed SEND a minute ago... this couldn't possibly get worse, she thought, right as it got worse.

"Hi, David," Shadowfox said brightly. "Who's your friend?"

And in that moment everything went to hell.

The bear spray projector strapped to Lilith's left wrist had a single shot. Lilith had probably intended it for Shadowfox, but the possibly armed agent right across the table from her obviously took precedence. David, just turning to Shadowfox, took it full in his face. Before he hit the ground, Lilith was on her feet and her trench coat was open, matte black tactical armor, and she was pulling out a huge pistol, something that looked more like a rifle cut down than a sidearm.

Technofox was off her stool, and her pistol was coming clear of the holster.

Shadowfox was in the air and a spinning back kick sent Lilith's gun flying in the direction of the bar. Lilith kicked the table, upsetting it over David; Shadowfox had probably planned to land on it; she went down. Lilith flicked her right wrist, a hand taser appeared in her right hand.

The patrons were just beginning to notice and raise a cry, like monkeys spotting a lioness. It was lucky the place wasn't crowded. The security men started to run, against the crowd.

Technofox had her gun out. "PRIVATE SECURITY!" she roared. "FREEZE!" Technofox was surprised she could roar.

Lilith turned away from Shadowfox. Instead of coming to her feet, Shadowfox rolled away, giving Technofox a clear shot. Technofox took it.

The first was a clear miss. The second hit Lilith high on her left shoulder, on the armor, the impact making her twist. She threw herself backwards, against the wide orange door handle. The door popped open, the shrill alarm adding to the confusion. Technofox fired again, a good shot, hitting Lilith low and on the centerline. It was still on her armor, but the impact folded her around it as she fell backwards out the opening door. She tossed something behind her as she landed, got up, and awkwardly scrambled away, probably uninjured but obviously feeling the blows of two .357 rounds.

Technofox started to run forward, after her. Colors faded, the edges of her vision turned black. Shadowfox had grabbed David and was hauling him away from the door. Technofox wondered why Shadow was running away, and then she saw the grenade bounce on the floor towards her. Time seemed to compress as adrenaline and other chemicals flooded her system. She saw the handle fly off the grenade. Absently, as though it were happening in a movie, she noticed that the grenade was cylindrical and neither round nor pineapple-serrated, so it probably had no fragmentation casing. Later, she would look back at this moment, amazed that she had been so calm and analytical.

She ran faster, hoping to make it past the grenade before it went off. Shadowfox looked at her in horror, beseeching her to stop and cover. Technofox passed the grenade and was out the door when a brilliant light flicked on, and a sharp crack seemed to lift her and push her faster. More reports followed, more flashes, and Technofox smugly realized it was a flashbang. Shadowfox would be fine, and she'd back her up soon enough.

Technofox came skidding to a halt. She looked around. The multiple noisemaker charges in the flashbang were not sounds as much as they were physical blows, shocks washing over her and leaving her ears ringing. The flares strobed into the night, flashes of brilliant, white light that made the cars in the parking lot look dead and fake in some curious way, the light odd and indescribably wrong, like a chimera's face to a human.

She looked left and right, not seeing Lilith. And then she remembered she only had two rounds left in her pistol. She flipped the cylinder open and took out her speed loader, ready to dump the remaining rounds.

Footfall. Boot pushing against the ground. Breaking into a run.

Technofox turned. Lilith was almost on her. Technofox dropped the speed loader, jerked her wrist. The cylinder snapped back into place. She aimed, squeezed, the hammer fell on an empty chamber; click. Lilith seemed to fill the universe. She squeezed. She wasn't set for the report; her hand jerked up; Lilith staggered backwards as the bullet hit her, off center. Technofox shifted her aim, fired. Lilith cried out for the first time as a chunk flew out of her knee.

The leg folded, useless, and Lilith collapsed. She scrabbled against the ground, trying to learn how to move now that she was short a knee. She pushed her good leg against the asphalt over and over, trying to stand on it and failing.

Five spent casings bounced on the ground, smoke curling up from them in the cold night. Technofox slapped the speed loader home, snapped the cylinder back, and covered her. She took a breath; the air was sweet in her lungs. She hadn't taken a breath in some time, which surprised her.

"Don't move," Technofox said.

Where was Shadowfox, she wondered? Maybe recovering from the flashbang. Building security was probably making sure the clients and dancers were okay -- they were probably unarmed and sure wouldn't come racing into a nighttime gunfight. They'd call the police. Who would see a fox chimera holding a gun on what looked like a human woman... well, she hoped they were bright enough to order her to surrender.

Lilith rolled over on her back. "Can't," she said, wryly, as though it were a joke. She looked up. "You're Candi, right?" she asked.

"Technofox," she said steadily.

Lilith snorted. "Whatever. You and me, we're both dogs on a leash. Why don't you see that? What's wrong with you?"

"I don't have a master."

Lilith shook her head. Her eyes narrowed. "You killed my Master. Bitch."

Technofox blinked. Blue, the AI that had run Blue Diamond, was backed up and still running. "Odenberg?" she asked.

Lilith frowned. "What?" she asked, confused, as though Technofox had announced she liked salmon.

"Who?" Technofox asked.

Lilith stared at her, laughed mirthlessly, and shook her head. "Fuck. That's too funny."

"Who do you mean?" Technofox repeated, baffled.

"Kiss me goodbye and I'll tell you," Lilith said, forcing a smile. She shifted her hip, and coughed, loudly. It was a fake cough.

There was a moment of silence. A shot to the knee wasn't fatal. Already Technofox could hear sirens. And there was something desperate, pleading in Lilith's face. Too desperate. And under the sirens, Technofox heard the fuse hissing.