Shadowfox 05
#5 of Shadowfox
Shadowfox 05
05 Shadowfox -- Null
Shadowfox looked at the words in her polished shield. She knew she should react, visibly, but how?
Firefox and Technofox had worked in Seattle, with the FBI; Shadowfox and Silverfox had worked in Vancouver with the RCMP. So, should she be outraged, or shocked? Should she feign agreement?
Would she be _feigning_agreement?
"You don't seem surprised. Did you suspect?" he asked.
"No... yes. We saw something was wrong. The team on the ground in British Columbia was too small."
"If the RCMP believes there's a leak on their end, they would try to contain it."
He was right. "I'm startled, of course. We worked almost entirely with Sergeant McKinnon, and I can't believe he was turned."
"Not after being killed in a shootout with them, no," Thompson agreed. "Well, maybe Fischer killed McKinnon to tie up loose ends or something. But who would deliberately complicate a kidnapping with a murder?"
"Not one that sloppy, anyway. McKinnon was able to return fire." Shadowfox considered the possibilities. Maybe McKinnon was told to loose a few rounds so it would look good, and not told that his fire would be returned? It didn't seem likely. She filed the idea away.
"Our working theory is that you were the target, not Silverfox. The question being, how they confused you two."
"I think that's more solid than a working theory. Silverfox says that Carter was chewed out for grabbing her instead of the black fox. Also, Fischer bribed someone with a motorcycle, and he credited that information for keeping him out of prison." She paused. "As for how they confused us, I was on the fire escape."
Shadowfox waited for him to ask why she was on the fire escape. Then she would say she didn't remember. If he were baffled by that, he didn't know about 4094.
"So someone was bribed. With a motorcycle." He frowned. "Are you sure about that?"
"Specifically, he said 'Motorcycle Money.' Unless that's some slang term I've never heard before, that implies someone was bribed with a new motorcycle."
"Or it involved a motorcycle gang," he suggested.
"Possibly, but I don't think there's any other sign of that. I'd bet against it."
"I agree. The Mounties know about this?"
"Yes, sir."
"It makes me wonder how many Mounties recently got an expensive motorcycle," he mused.
Shadowfox nodded.
"How would you describe the relationship between McKinnon and you?" Thompson asked.
"I didn't have a chance to know him well. We tried to minimize his contact with me -- we were concerned I might be watched. I thought he was a good Mountie and I would have been happy to work with him again."
"And how would you describe the relationship between McKinnon and Silverfox?"
She guessed he probably knew. McKinnon and Thompson were both sent to the Naval base in Everett, Washington. McKinnon and Silverfox had started seeing one another there.
"They were dating."
"Still?" Thompson asked. "No break-up?"
"No," she shook her head firmly. "Silverfox and I are very close. We talk about our relationships and Silverfox didn't have any sense things were getting out of control."
"I only worked with McKinnon for a few weeks," Thompson glanced away. He was either lying, or upset and not trying to show it. "I can imagine him getting upset in a relationship. But sending Silverfox off to be hunted like an animal?" he shook his head. "Not seeing it."
Like an animal. Thompson was talking as though he believed chimerae were people. Either he did, or he was picking his words very carefully. Of course, even an intent to deceive her acknowledged she could be fooled...
"Fischer knew you are an ICON operative, cooperating with the RCMP. The Mounties knew that."
"So did the FBI," Shadowfox could not resist reminding him.
He smiled and raised a finger. "Yes, and no. ICON was reporting your actions to the RCMP, not to us. We knew you were somewhere in Canada; we didn't know what you were up to."
That was probably a half-truth; the FBI almost certainly knew that the Vix-Dix model / dancer / actor using the name 'Ebony' was actually ICON Operative Shadowfox. But that didn't change the RCMP's furtive behavior.
Most of Fischer's crew was made up of Canadian deserters; the rest were Germans or Axis satellites. There weren't any Americans, even though Fischer operated on both sides of the border.
Shadowfox didn't imagine that a Canadian was more likely to be a Nazi turncoat than an American. The US Navy was the biggest in the world; the Canadian Navy the third. That implied Fischer didn't recruit Americans.
She couldn't imagine why not. The United States hadn't been at war with Germany since the Great War ended in 1919. The US had flirted with entering the European War before that petered out in 1948, but short of a German declaration of war -- and it was hard to imagine Hitler being that stupid -- US intervention wasn't likely, not with the Pacific War and almost losing Hawaii to Japan.
Maybe Fischer felt Americans were irredeemably under the control of the Jews or some such dumbassery.
Whether or not Fischer had compromised the RCMP, Fischer certainly had a foothold in Canada and the RCMP was behaving as though it had been compromised.
"One of the men Silverfox killed had met her before," Shadowfox said. "She had identified herself as an ICON operative then."
"That is interesting," he said. "I didn't know that. So perhaps Silverfox was the target?"
"It honestly doesn't seem likely. Silverfox reported they said they were looking for the black fox. That would be me." She gave the matter some more thought. "Fischer paid me in advance for the month, in cash. I believe he was setting me up -- something where I took the money and skipped town."
His eyebrows lifted. "Would anyone buy that?"
"If they didn't know I was ICON? There's plenty of people who think chimera girls are flakey." Especially ones with websites devoted to selling naked pictures.
"Good point. It might have confused matters. If Fischer knew you were an operative, why did he hire you for his film? That means he probably found out about you after he hired you."
Shadowfox zipped up her leathers and looked at her motorcycle thoughtfully.
Shadow's Honda Cruiser was a present from a mob soldier to his lady friend, Ebony. He liked baseball and never missed a game in Fenway Park. He had never taken her there because he didn't want to be seen with her in public. Shadowfox didn't know if it was because she was a chimera or because he was married. She guessed the former.
Maybe he felt guilty about that, and that was why he had spent more than he could afford, trying to impress her. Maybe that was why he took one job too many and bled out on a street, shot by a police officer who knew exactly where he was going to be because he told Ebony and Shadowfox filed a report.
He didn't have much sense but he had excellent taste in motorcycles. The Cruiser was a thirty kilowatt electric with fore-and-aft hub motors, designed for highway use, out in the Midwest where the roads were long. It was a favorite model for people living off the grid; a decent solar array could keep it topped up, and the capacitors gave 110 volts AC at 60 Hz.
Maybe the man who bought it for her was subconsciously longing to escape, to cram the saddlebags with luggage and drive west until the capacitors went flat. It was a shame that Shadowfox had only used it in the city.
The most ironic part was that Shadowfox liked motorcycles even more than Ebony did. And someone had sold Silverfox for a motorcycle. It bothered Shadowfox that she shared a fondness with them.
Could that be useful?
The helmet was a bulky thing, eye protection with a muzzle guard like a football helmet, pushed out like the cowcatcher on an antique locomotive. Anyone looking at her helmet would know the bike was owned by a chimera. She unlocked it from the seat, pulled off the muzzle guard, folded her ears, put the helmet on and snapped the muzzle guard back into place.
She turned the key and opened the throttle. She knew she had to think about this and driving in traffic wasn't the right place for it. Motorcycles were popular executive toys because they were demanding. You couldn't zone out on one.
Did Fischer buy a motorcycle recently? For who? Can we get the VIN?
Driving into their apartment's parking lot, she noticed that Jerry's car was in a different visitor's spot than it was this morning.
She stared at it for several seconds. Yes, she was sure, it was two spaces over. Jerry had either left Silverfox alone, or they had left the apartment. Probably the latter.
Idiot, she thought, not sure which she was thinking of. Probably Silverfox. She had put Jerry up to it, and Jerry would probably have trouble saying no to a lover. Silverfox had nothing to do but lay down, and she couldn't even do that. Why hadn't she told them she'd be gone for an hour, and then called and said she was delayed? Three hours was too tempting.
When Firefox had gotten access to the shoot house, Shadowfox should have called Cheshire to chaperone Silverfox's chaperone. Wait, Cheshire was Silverfox's lover too. Damnit, did she know anyone who wasn't Silverfox's lover? No, the only one outside Foxforce they could trust to tell Silverfox no was Tall Felicia -- Shadowfox was pretty confident nurse professionalism would trump fuck-friend request.
Shadowfox was outside the door to the apartment. She knew Silverfox would hear her. Should she accuse them or give them a chance to confess?
Silverfox opened the door for her. "Come on in. Hurry up." Her face was serious and intent.
That set Shadowfox back a bit. She expected Silverfox to feign innocence. Shadowfox hung her jacket on its hook. Silverfox was using a cane, not even pretending her leg was in good working order, but she was walking around in the living room anyway. Shadowfox felt her ire shooting up. Did she think that was helping?
"Jerry took me to see the food court he's building," Silverfox said without preamble. She sat down on the couch, heavily. She was using Shadowfox's cane, and for some reason that annoyed her even more.
There were two packages over on the dining table; a cardboard box from Amazon and a padded envelope from California. Good, Technofox would have something to work on tonight.
Shadowfox shot Jerry a look. I thought you were a grownup. Oddly, he didn't look uncomfortable. "For crying out loud --"
"Later," Silverfox interrupted. "This is important."
Shadowfox's ears shifted forward. Silver had her attention.
"We saw Tawny at his food court," the grey fox explained.
The food court was an employment scheme for runaway chimerae. Massachusetts police wouldn't ship a runaway across state lines -- Dredd Scott was overturned in 1907 -- but it was still hard to get a job.
"Tawny's using the name Ambush there. Ambush has a new motorcycle."
Shadowfox blinked, and looked at Silverfox.
What was Silverfox saying? How had...
Oh.
Shadowfox's face tingled, as though she had been slapped. She started breathing faster. Tawny was a bitch, but had she--? She felt dizzy.
Someone grabbed her upper arm. Shocked, she looked at Jerry's face.
"Easy, Shadow," he said gently. He put an arm around her and helped her into a chair. The moment was bizarre and unreal. A Blue Diamond Girl had sold out a Blue Diamond Girl. A man's arm was around her and his dick wasn't hard.
"But she's one of us," Shadowfox said helplessly.
It was a complicated thing, when it came to Blue Diamond Girls. When Tigre touched her whip, you'd do anything she said. That was part of the show and nobody held it against you. When they gave an order you'd obey and it would be on them. Yes Master, thank you Master, and you'd lick his foot and smile.
That wasn't betrayal. If they were asking questions it was I don't know, Master. I swear I don't. If Tigre was working on you it was a different matter, but to go out of your way and inform on...
"I know," Silverfox said unhappily.
"Did you tell Firefox yet?" Shadowfox wished she had. She didn't want to think about this problem; she wanted someone else to take it from her.
"No." Silverfox forced a grin. "This is a little too hot for the open channels."
"Yes," Shadowfox agreed. This was no good. She had to think... and an outsider was there, and she had to filter everything in her head so he wouldn't see what she was really thinking.
"Silver," she said, "We need to talk about this."
Silverfox nodded. Jerry didn't make to leave.
"I mean," Shadowfox said more slowly, "We need to talk."
Jerry stiffened slightly when he realized "we" didn't include him. Resentment flickered over his face.
"Jerry? Do you mind leaving?" Shadowfox asked.
He frowned. "Well, actually --"
"Jerry," Silverfox interrupted him. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. But she's thinking of you. We need to talk over things you can't know about."
"Are you sure?" he asked Silverfox.
Silverfox's eyes dropped. "Yes. I'm sorry." She took his hand, kissed it and nuzzled it. "There." She grinned. "I've scent marked you. You're mine now."
He laughed and skritched her head. Her tail thumped. "Okay, hon. You've got my email."
"Love you."
"Me too."
Shadowfox's jaw dropped, for an instant. Jerry took his jacket and left without a nod to her.
"Silverfox --" Shadowfox began.
"Not now." Silverfox's voice was low and angry.
Silverfox waited until she couldn't hear him walking away down the corridor. Silverfox took a deep breath before continuing.
"Jerry is not my mark. He is not a social engineering target. He is my friend. And you will treat him with a little damn respect."
Shadowfox blinked. Silverfox was serious.
"I'm sorry," Shadowfox said.
Silverfox glanced away. "I guess you're right. I don't want him involved." She hesitated. "But watch it when you do it."
"I should have been more diplomatic," Shadowfox said, hoping to prevent an argument by agreeing with her. "But you sort of dropped a bombshell there..." Shadowfox lifted her hands helplessly.
"Uhm. Yes," Silverfox nodded, mollified. "What are we going to do?"
Shadowfox ran a hand through her hair. "Wait for Firefox, of course. She'll probably want to confirm it. I guess Technofox will."
Silverfox snorted. She believed it.
"Maybe Tawny just happened to buy an expensive motorcycle," Shadowfox shrugged. "It's not impossible."
Silverfox grimaced for a moment and seemed to reconsider. "Yeah, I suppose -- no, you're right." She brushed the bangs in front of her eyes. "Do you think she did it?" There was doubt in her voice.
Shadowfox sat down next to her. "I don't have a strong opinion either way." She patted Silverfox's thigh.
Silverfox turned around and lay down, her head in Shadowfox's lap with a soft sigh, as though she wanted to go to sleep.
"Tired?" Shadowfox asked.
"Only a little. Jerry made me use the wheelchair."
"Smart man." Shadowfox looked down at her fondly and stroked her face. "Have you spoken with Janet?"
Silverfox looked puzzled for a moment, and realization dawned in her eyes. "Not yet. So maybe Tawny doesn't know I'm back."
"Let's think about this," Shadowfox mused. Silverfox's kidnapping and rescue wasn't exactly a secret, but they hadn't broadcast it, either. They had told Andy and Jerry and... most of their spare energy over the last five days had been spent fussing over Silverfox, not socializing with friends and acquaintances. "Janet knows Tawny. Cheshire knows Tawny. Anyone else?"
"The Felicias," Silverfox said immediately. "Well, they met her at our party."
"Tall Felicia mentioned she hasn't talked to Tawny since then."
"Cheshire can't stand Tawny. If Tawny asked, I'm sure she'd tell her, but I don't see Cheshire looking her up to swap gossip." Silverfox took her hand; Shadowfox raised Silver's hand to her lips and kissed each finger.
"You know, I like that," Silverfox said wistfully.
Shadowfox smiled down at her, and touched the top of her tongue to the base of Silverfox's index finger. She ran her tongue lightly down to the tip, and took that between her teeth. She bit lightly, and took it into her mouth. Silverfox's pad tasted of salt; her claw was chipped.
Silverfox laughed. It was good to hear. "You're so beautiful."
Shadowfox looked down at Silverfox's face in her lap. They should be brainstorming. But that could wait.
Shadowfox undid her hair and pushed it over her shoulders. When she leaned down to kiss Silverfox on the mouth, it came down like a curtain, blotting out everything but the longing in the gray fox's eyes. She kissed Silverfox and Silverfox leaned into it, making it harder and more ardent.
Shadowfox was wearing a blouse. Silverfox undid the top button. Shadowfox hesitated -- she wasn't sure she was really in the mood -- but this was the first pass Silverfox had made for Shadowfox since her rescue, and Shadowfox wanted to make sure she knew she was welcome. Shadowfox was wearing a black bra, practical. Silverfox undid the fastener between her breasts. She licked a nipple and took it between her teeth.
Shadowfox shuddered and held Silverfox to support her head. She closed her eyes and bit her lip.
Sometimes, it seemed Silverfox approached sex with the simplicity of an animal. She liked sex, she liked the person she was with, and that was that.
Firefox and Technofox were a couple, now; preferring one another's company. That meant Shadowfox had to step up when Silverfox needed something physical.
At the same time, Shadowfox loved Silverfox, and she loved the thrill she was feeling now.
Shadowfox was a manufactured product, the same as the others in Foxforce. Sex toy was a real, if unspoken part of her specification.
Shadowfox was a sexual agent. She knew it and accepted it; she was proud of her skill. By taking that responsibility on herself, she kept the others from compromising themselves. Shadowfox always knew when she was with a lover and when she was doing a job with a mark.
ICON had limited that when they were originally purchased, blunted their sensations and hungers. Blue Diamond had removed those limits. Even in Blue Diamond, where seduction was the threat of a beating and foreplay was a guest squeezing your tits until he got hard enough to put it in, the physical pleasure of the act was intense and real.
It had frightened her. Since Blue Diamond, lovers and marks felt the same.
The front door opened and Firefox walked in. She smelled of gunpowder and exertion, and she carried a case for the KSG and a satchel for her armor. The big fox closed the door and whistled. "Can I have the other one?" she asked, cheerfully dropping the satchel and laying the KSG on the dining room table.
It was tempting, but Silverfox pulled away. Shadowfox stood and faced Firefox, buttoning up as she did so.
Firefox watched Shadowfox, her expression shifting from cheerful delight to attentive and neutral. Shadowfox straightened the hems on her blouse.
"...What happened?" Firefox asked.
Technofox was sitting in a corner, tapping on a keyboard. She had Canadian immigration in one window and Massachusetts motor vehicle records in another.
"Dawnstar Earthtreader crossed the Canadian border at Buffalo," she said. "On Day seven, Fischer bought her a motorcycle. On Day ten, Silverfox was kidnapped. On Day Fifteen, Dawnstar returned to the US and accepted delivery of the motorcycle."
"She risked a border crossing?" Firefox asked, frowning. "Her false ID's paper thin."
Technofox shrugged. "That's the most porous border in the world. Besides, she's a runaway slave. The Canadians have given runaway slaves sanctuary for centuries. Getting back into the US was probably a bigger risk."
"Movements in Canada?"
"That's difficult," Technofox replied. "She doesn't seem to use a credit card. I'm pretty sure she's using cash or prepaid debit cards." The little fox shrugged. "They ask for your name but those aren't too hard to fake."
"And the motorcycle?" Silverfox asked.
Technofox glanced over and hesitated. "The VIN checks out. Fischer bought it from Kawasaki, delivered it to Boston, in the name of Dawnstar Earthtreader. He reported it as a gift for customs purposes."
"You're kidding," Silverfox squinted.
Technofox lifted her hands helplessly and pointed mutely to the screen. Shadowfox didn't bother to look at it; she was confident Technofox had read it correctly.
"That's not a bad idea," Shadowfox said slowly. She gave it some thought. "It's not illegal to give someone a motorcycle. Jerry gave Silver that gun."
Silverfox smiled. "Actually, I might need to declare that on my taxes."
"A motorcycle's cheaper. If this turned into an investigation with law enforcement asking about that gift, I'll bet the plan was to stonewall and eventually admit that the motorcycle was payment for a two week sex vacation. It's legal in BC, and you don't need a license."
"Except they were on opposite sides of Canada," Silverfox objected.
"Can we prove that?" Firefox asked.
Technofox shrugged. "That's hard to do."
Planes required photo ID or a scanned ICR chip before boarding. Trains and busses asked your name when you ordered a ticket and asked that ID be shown on request. It would be easy enough to buy a ticket in Dawnstar's name and never use it.
"Doesn't matter," Silverfox shook her head. "I say this is good enough to ice the bitch."
Firefox looked off in the distance and then back at Silverfox. "You told me I was handling her with kid gloves. I didn't listen."
Silverfox looked uncomfortable. "That was just me stirring shit," she said. "I agreed you made the right call."
"Except I didn't," Firefox looked away. "You were right, I was wrong, and you ended up kidnapped."
"If you're going to start taking my advice I quit," Silverfox said seriously. She poked Firefox in the boob playfully. "I don't want to get myself killed."
Firefox smiled and rubbed Silverfox's head. Her expression went serious. "I agree it looks bad for her."
"There's going to be a 'but' now." Silverfox looked at her steadily, as though daring her to finish the sentence.
"That's right," Firefox agreed. "Someone I love got kidnapped and I want someone to go down hard because of it. But I want to make sure."
Silverfox took a deep breath and nodded. She looked over at the corner. The little fox met her eyes. "Tech, how many motorcycles has Fischer bought?"
"Oh. Uhm, no other that I saw." Technofox turned around and started typing. "I'll put a search agent on that." She looked around. "You see, I traced by the VIN number --"
"Good idea, Silver," Shadowfox said, even though she wasn't convinced. Maybe Fischer bought a dozen motorcycles a year, maybe this was the only one; it might strengthen suspicion but didn't make a difference either way. "I think Fire's right. Silverfox, is there any chance they were lying to you about the motorcycle?"
"Oh, horseshit," Silverfox thumped her cane on the floor. "Look, they treated me like dead meat. They said they were going to make me a parka because my fur was too plain to make a nice trophy." She was shaking.
Firefox put a hand on her. "Easy, love. We don't want you boosting."
Silverfox took in a deep breath, smiled and nodded.
"Hood lining," Technofox corrected. She froze and looked over to Silverfox. "Uhm, the Seattle police ran a DNA test on Baker's parka. Chimera fur was used to line the hood."
"Thanks," Silverfox said in tones that implied she was anything but grateful. "But the point is they weren't doing any misinformation shit with me. Stop defending the bitch. She was a snitch in Blue Diamond, and she's a snitch now."
"Hey," Shadowfox frowned. "We're talking about killing somebody." And then, in case she was misunderstood, "We have to be sure."
"Yeah, fine. So what do we do? Ask her to explain the motorcycle? Even if she has a good explanation, she can't prove it and we'd just tip her off."
Every mark had a key; a person they were looking for, even if they didn't know it themselves. It was Shadowfox's job to become that key. She had been ransacking her brain to come up with a key for Tawny.
"That's right," Shadowfox admitted. "But she's not going to incriminate herself, either."
"Hold on a moment," Firefox put up a hand. "Did anyone read her book?"
"No," came a distracted voice from the corner.
"I did," Silverfox contradicted her.
Technofox stared in amazement. "You read books?"
Silverfox glowered and Technofox blew her a kiss.
"Good," Firefox said without a trace of a smile. "Silver, does she say anything about séances?"
Shadowfox dreamed she was sleeping with Silverfox in her room. Tigre came in through the door. She wore a leather dominatrix outfit, whip on one hip and a strap-on on the other. Silverfox's ears twitched eagerly, and that made it more horrifying.
The tiger snapped her fingers and the doors and windows were suddenly barred. "Show respect," she ordered.
Silverfox was the first out of bed. Naked, she went to her knees, touched her breasts to the floor. Her tongue ran across Tigre's foot, and she sat back, eyes lowered, waiting for the touch on her ear that would release her. Shadowfox knew, with terror, that she herself had been too slow.
Tigre looked at Shadowfox and growled. "Bad girl." She put her hand on her whip.
Shadowfox woke up gasping. Silverfox was standing in a bathrobe before Tall Felicia. The tiger was in blue jeans and pocket T-Shirt. The fox's arm was in the tiger's hand. The tiger was holding a syringe which was slowly filling with blood. They both looked at Shadowfox curiously.
"You okay?" Silverfox asked.
Shadowfox let her face sink into her hands with a long sigh of relief.
"Sorry," Tall Felicia apologized. "Didn't mean to wake you up."
Shadowfox glanced at her clock, pulled the covers up and lay back down. "No problem."
"Anyway," Tall Felicia said sternly. "Going out yesterday? Something of a dumbass move. Seriously. But at least you told me about it. This two weeks of bed rest is about you staying quiet. If you can spend two weeks without flooding your system with amphetamines, you're probably not addicted. But let's say you're out with your boyfriend and you're almost clipped by a car."
Felicia withdrew the syringe. Without being told, Silverfox applied pressure and lifted her arm. Felicia pulled the needle free of the syringe and then held them in the same hand. She took a biohazard envelope from off the nightstand with her free hand.
The tiger continued. "Then, bang, your system's flooded again and the doctors who think you were in bed figure you gave yourself a jolt of go-juice because you were bored. Then they put you on a list of potential substance abusers and this comes up when it's time for you to renew your concealed carry license."
The tiger put the needle in the envelope and sealed it. She took out a small tube, slipped the sample into it, and then capped the tube, turning hard. There was a soft pop and a chemical smell as the plastic cap melted and fused with the tube. Felicia tucked the tube into her breast pocket.
"So what I am going to do is snitch," Felicia put her hands on her hips. "I am going to tell Doctor Clayton that you left the apartment. That way, if he sees something in this," she tapped her breast pocket, "he will reset that two-week clock to start today instead of writing you off. Any questions?"
"You explained everything very clearly and I am sure I understand," Silverfox said with a nod. "Thank you. However, I want to ask if you know that your breasts are amazing, and I really want to feel them again. Also, I owe you for that first night." She looked at Shadowfox. "I wasn't able to bring her over."
A grin flicked over Tall Felicia's Stern Nurse face. "Discretion is something for other people, isn't it?"
"Even given your condition at the time, I'm surprised," Shadowfox replied. "Jetlag?"
Felicia blinked, opened her mouth, and looked away. For a moment, Shadowfox was afraid she would get angry; instead the tiger shook her head and looked upwards, as though beseeching guidance. Her mouth slowly opened into a grin.
"How can you say that with another girl in your bed?" Felicia laughed.
"I wonder about that sometimes," Silverfox said thoughtfully. "I've always liked it, as long as I can remember. The thing is that I'm like any other chimera girl. I was designed to put out for whoever bought me. In Blue Diamond sex was a job you couldn't refuse. Maybe this is how I turn it into something I do with people I like. A lot of people don't look at it that way. Will I hurt you? Because I don't want to do that."
Felicia considered and shook her head. "I'd be lying if I didn't say I was hoping to be your girlfriend. I like the idea of keeping someone special, exclusive. But I know where you're coming from, and you've never tried to convince me you're someone you're not." She grinned. "What I'm trying to say is that you're fun to be with."
"Until something better comes along?" Silverfox asked.
"Better for me, maybe."
"I can live with that." Silverfox stepped forward to give her a hug. Felicia stepped back.
Silverfox blinked. "Sorry."
"No, it's not that. I can't let anyone touch me while I've got your sample on me," the tiger explained. "You could be a ninja pickpocket."
I'm the ninja. Shadowfox found her robe on the floor and pulled it on while under the covers. She got up. "May I get you a coffee?" she asked. "Or you could stay for breakfast. I'm not planning to go all out, but I thought I'd make some eggs and bacon."
Felicia looked distracted for a moment, as though looking at a display only she could see. "I'd really like that," she said. "I'm going to run this down to General Hospital, but I can be back in, uhm, half an hour? I'll bring some fresh bagels."
"Sounds good."
"And oh, by the way," Shadowfox said, "have you spoken to anyone about Silverfox?"
"Uhm." Felicia considered. "Now that I think of it, no I haven't. I guess my brain's in professional mode. You don't gossip about a patient, even with her friends."
"Good," Shadowfox said. "Felicia, we'd appreciate it if you could keep that lid closed for a while."
"Sure." Felicia blinked. "Is there a problem?"
"I'm afraid so." Shadowfox improvised. I wish I didn't have to tell you this, and I know you'll keep it a secret. "It's the op. We've decided we need to keep the fact she's okay secret for the time being, because someone who put her away thinks she's still missing."
It was, Shadowfox noted with a touch of surprise, the actual truth.
"Right," Felicia nodded. "What should I say if someone does ask about her?"
"That as far as you know, the four of us aren't in town."
Felicia looked a bit uncomfortable at being asked to lie. She wasn't good at it, Shadowfox decided. "Gotcha," Felicia said with a nod. She wasn't happy about it, but she'd try.
When Felicia left, Firefox and Technofox came out of their bedroom. They said good morning and Shadowfox dove right in.
"If we decide to take out Tawny, we might need Tall Felicia's co-operation."
"Really?" Firefox's expression showed she was less than thrilled with bringing in an outsider. "Why?"
"Stress markers," Silverfox walked in. "They can't tell me getting scared from me turning into an amphetamine junkie. From what she said, I'm afraid to watch a zombie film. Which is pretty ironic if you think about it."
"The safest solution is to wait until after Felicia's done with you," Firefox said.
"I don't think she'd be a big help," Shadowfox said. And, since Silverfox looked dubious, she added "She's thinking about going for her nursing license. She needs to stay on the good side of the hospital. And c'mon, you saw her, Silver -- she's not comfortable lying."
"You're right. Besides, we have a much better option." Silverfox raised a finger to draw attention to her cleverness. "Bait that Tawny will find impossible to resist."
Firefox and Technofox looked at Silverfox curiously. Shadowfox knew what Silverfox was about to say. Mentally, she began to prepare counter arguments.
"A millionaire's penis," Silverfox nodded firmly.
... And Shadowfox's arguments went swirling down the drain, as she realized that Silverfox was right.
"Heck no, I'm not going to sleep with her." Jerry was frowning. "Not if she sold out Silverfox."
"I don't mind," said Silverfox.
"I do," he said, turning on her.
Shadowfox didn't know Jerry well. She had filed him away with Silverfox's other lovers: someone Silverfox was fond of, certainly, but lacking real depth. Most of them would tap any chimera girl who lifted her skirt.
Marks, mostly human males, were generally just looking for something to keep their penises warm. Shadowfox had been designed with that function in mind. Even though her own mantra of "be the woman they want" mitigated against it, the possibility that a human male would look at a sexually compatible chimera and reject her because she was an evil bitch bothered her on some level.
She knew, intellectually, that some human males saw chimerae as people. Her modus operandi required her to use men; she rationalized that by thinking they were out to use her. She didn't like that train of thought, so she stopped it.
How could you think such a thing of me? She thought. Silverfox is a dear friend and I know exactly what you mean to one another.
"Of course you don't have to sleep with Tawny," Shadowfox scoffed. What a ridiculous notion! "I'm just saying that she's a predator. If you want sexual comfort, she'll give it to you."
"For a price."
Shadowfox shook her head. "She won't be that obvious. Tawny's doing okay here and she has a source of income. She's not desperate, she'll probably take time to set you up for a big payoff. That means she becomes your friend, maybe she takes some money, maybe she nobly refuses it, then she becomes your lover, and then, bam, suddenly she needs money, a lot of it. There's a friend she needs to bail out. Maybe her owner's tracked her down, and she needs you to buy her." She noticed he was nodding, serious and attentive, but ... "Have you heard all this before?"
Jerry laughed, abashed. "Well, as you said -- I've got money, and I took a course in how to protect it. Do you think she'll make a play for me?"
If Shadowfox were in Tawny's position, she would. There was little chance of a backfire; everyone knew chimera girls were easy.
"I think so," Shadowfox said. "Actually, I think she already is. She invented Ambush, and Ambush is getting involved in McKinnon's, and I don't think it's because she wants to bake cookies. This might be hard for you because she's going to pretend to be concerned about you."
"Yeah, that's so."
Shadowfox couldn't resist smiling back. "Anyone ever try that one on you before?"
"Oh, yes." He leaned back in his chair. "She even pulled it off, sort of. She knew I could use search agents so the crisis was her mother's medical bills, and she used a woman who was actually in the hospital and needed to pay for care. So I paid the money directly to the hospital, thinking it would be a nice surprise."
Shadowfox was laughing. "And when the girlfriend found out--"
"Oh, it was great!" Jerry lifted his hands and face as though bearing witness to a host of angels. "I was devastated, of course, but it was over voice chat and I got the whole thing on video." He shook his head. "The mother offered to turn the money back to me, God bless her soul. I just didn't have the heart to do it. I told her it was worth twice that to get the bitch out of my life. Well, I didn't say that."
You're funny and I like talking to you. It was the appropriate thing for her to think, and Shadowfox was a little surprised because it was also true.
Shadowfox was satisfied. The possibility that Tawny might swing him over to her side seemed remote. She took a second cookie from the plate and dipped it in milk. "Okay," she said. "I think we want to have some rehearsals. I'll be Dawnstar."
Salem, Massachusetts was a small port north of Boston. Its motto was "To the Farthest Port of the Rich Indies," and its harbor protected American privateers from the Royal Navy through the Revolutionary War. Trading ships from Salem had cemented the United States as a global power in commerce. It was the home city of Nathaniel Hawthorne and the lesser-known Nathaniel Bowditch, arguably the greatest mathematician of the 19thCentury.
It was best known for a lurid few months. In the 17thCentury, at the behest of a number of schoolgirls, Salem hanged nineteen of its unpopular citizens for witchcraft, and during pre-trial examination, crushed another with rocks, in the form of plea-bargaining favored in those harsher times.
Counter-intuitively, Wiccans of later ages would make the town their home. They would leave coins in remembrance and tribute to long-dead Puritans falsely accused of witchcraft and put to death; one could only imagine the likely reaction of the recipients to prayers and consolation offered by self-declared witches from a later century.
And with those seeking enlightenment and spiritual power came shops selling comical witch memorabilia and tiny, ghoulish museums catering to those who found the whole thing amusing. One such museum was dedicated to an officially unsolved axe murder in a different city.
But this was 21st-Century Salem, a macabre Disneyworld without a Walt, where history and legend and tourist schlock rubbed shoulders with statues of witches from sitcoms and people who spelled "magic" with a "k" at the end. It was a small city which could never be confused with another.
It was night, and of course the moon was full. Shadowfox was sitting in the driver's seat of a rented limousine. The white patches on her forehead and the tip of her tail were dyed black, and she wore a chauffer's uniform. She had taken a bath in water with an additive to subtly change her scent, in the unlikely event that Tawny would get close enough.
They were parked outside of a small, converted church on the outskirts of Salem, next to a motorcycle. The GPS logger now plugged into Shadowfox's new notebook computer had, until recently, been attached to it. The highest speed it recorded was an impressive 160 kph, heading north on Revere Beach Road. That wasn't remotely legal, but with a bike like that Shadowfox could empathize.
Her phone chirped, and scrolled a short text message from Jerry: "Leaving soon."
Shadowfox unplugged the GPS logger from the netbook and brought up a video. She advanced two hours in, as though she had been watching it since Jerry had left the car, and watched the front door of the converted church. It had been built in the 1950s in the style of a colonial era church, and was now a Place of Occult Power that rented for five hundred a night.
The front door opened. Jerry stepped into the night. Shadowfox took that as her cue to do the same: she stood by the rear door, ready to open it for him. Tawny scampered out after him.
"Jerry," she called. "Wait." She was holding an envelope in one hand.
He looked at it, and at her. "Keep it." He turned away.
"I don't want it." She shook her head, looking miserable. "Not after ... a message like that." She opened his lapel and stuffed the envelope in. "Uhm, please," she said. She gasped. "I will pray for you and for her that I'm wrong. And wrong or right, I don't want to take it from you now."
"Thank you," he said.
She didn't let go of him. "Do you want me to... stay with you? You shouldn't be alone now."
"No. I'm fine. Thank you." His voice was strained.
"Please keep in touch," she said. "I'm worried about you. I'll call tomorrow."
"Thank you."
She hopped up and kissed him like a sister, on the cheek. Then she turned away and returned to the rented Place of Occult Power. She put a slight, inviting swing to her hips which _might_have been happenstance.
Jerry walked towards Shadowfox. His face was drawn, stressed, and he wasn't putting it on for Tawny. It was easy to laugh at fortune tellers in the daylight, but dark pronouncements about a friend weren't fun even if you didn't believe in the slightest.
Silently, Shadowfox opened the door for him. He didn't respond to her, but slid in. She closed it without a word -- the silent, efficient servant, in case a cougar's eyes were watching. She got into the driver's seat and carefully backed into the road.
Jerry was quiet, and it bothered her.
"You okay, Jerry?" she asked. The first name was meant to tip him off that it was safe to speak.
"I fucking hate being chauffeured," he replied. "I hate this shit where I sit in the back seat, I hate it when people carry my fucking luggage!"
"...Oh," she said.
"GOD-Damnit!" he shouted. He turned sideways in his seat and kicked the door on the other side of the car. Twice. "Fuck. Sorry."
"Look," she said, her eyes on the road. "The Victory Pub's on our way, sort of. Let's pull in there. I'll take off this stupid hat and coat, you can have a whisky and I'll have a Coke. Then you can ride shotgun as we drop off this bitch magnet. My treat. Sound good?"
He laughed. "Yeah, thanks -- I could use one."
"And I should point out that Silver and the others are sitting at home right now, waiting for your report. I can guess what happened. Can you make the call?"
We need you to be strong, she thought. She doubted he could read her body language from the back seat, but it was worth a try.
"Yes," he said. He took out his smart phone and turned off the voice recorder.
"And don't say anything you don't want to hear on a witness stand," she reminded him.
"...Right. ...Hello, Firefox? This is Jerry, I'm with Shadow. Like you know, I was just talking with Tawny. I'm pretty convinced, uhm, I'm pretty sure you're right." He waited for a response he could hear, but she couldn't. She wished he had put it on speakerphone. "It's recorded, but Shadow thought you would want to know right away... Yes, we'll be there after we return the car... No, that's okay -- it's only three blocks. Thanks, though. Good-bye."
Shadowfox pulled into a parking space. The car asked if she wanted to pay for parking now, and she accepted. As a computer in the car talked to a computer in City Hall, she removed her hat and coat. With black tie and white blouse she still looked like a waitress, but at least she didn't look like a chauffeur.
He opened the door for her and offered her an arm. She took it and leaned on it as though she needed it.
They walked down the street together. Shadowfox couldn't see the sky for all the lights. They were too bright, and the light they cast was flat and somehow dead.
"You know," he said conversationally, "I always heard that a medium would find out what you wanted to hear and tell it to you."
"She didn't, then?" Shadowfox could guess what was coming.
"In the forest, she said." He wasn't looking at her, and he put a hand on hers. He didn't want her to let go. "She said Silverfox was shot. Her body was mutilated. In more than one grave. That her killer was bragging over her skull."
Shadowfox exhaled, slowly.
"And God help me, I almost bought her act." His voice was disbelieving, and at the same time contemptuous towards himself. "I honestly found myself wondering if that lying bitch was telling the truth. She just seemed so... I dunno, vulnerable. And sincere about helping me."
"She was a slave. Slaves are good at that."
"I guess."
"People are wired to make friends. Someone puts out a hand, or cries for your loss, it's hard to throw that back in their face and call them liars. Tawny exploits that."
He nodded.
Part of her brain was analyzing. "So she hasn't spoken with Fischer recently."
"Huh? Oh, I see. Yes, if she did, then she'd know Silverfox is alive."
It was difficult to puzzle through. Obviously, Tawny had some way to talk to Fischer, or else she wouldn't be able to tell him about Shadowfox. But on the other hand, Fischer didn't feel obliged to tell her that Silverfox had gotten away and that she might want to consider getting out of town.
That sort of disregard for the life of a furjob wasn't surprising, but such contempt for an information source was. Speaking of which, she really should keep talking to Jerry.
"Right. You're right about telling people what they want to hear. But can you imagine how impressive her story would be if Fischer had killed Silverfox?" She gave it some thought. "I wonder if she told you all she knew."
"Do you think she's holding something back?"
"It's possible. If you don't get in touch with her over the next few days, she might be planning to call you up and start dropping hints about where it happened."
He made a chopping gesture with his hand. "It doesn't matter. She knew what Fischer was going to do."
"It does matter, because she might know something we don't," she reminded him.
"Yes, of course." He was only thinking about revenge against Tawny; he wasn't thinking about the bigger picture. She could understand that, but it was a problem they needed to address at some point.
The bar was only a little ways off. Jerry looked at it thoughtfully. "You know what? I don't think I want that drink."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure. And I should apologize to you. I've been acting like someone who needs his hand held and you've known Silverfox a lot longer than I have." He turned and started heading back to the car.
Shadowfox laughed and shook her head. He looked at her, inquiringly. "If it means anything, I think you've done very well for a green operative."
"Heh. Nice of you to say."
"Gentleman adventurer," she teased. "Jerry Shayler is the ... I don't think JS is a good acronym for anything. Java Script? Simon Templar had it easy."
He chuckled and looked away. She wondered how much of his attraction for Silverfox was that she was a for-real secret agent, and if he had a collection of spy films on his home network. She probably shouldn't laugh at him about it.
"But seriously, the fact she's still going for you instead of running for the hills? That proves you didn't scare her off. So honestly, I've seen people handle it worse. But I don't think it's over yet."
"Ah." He looked troubled by that.
"You need to keep her interested. She needs to think her con's working."
"You're saying I have to be nice to her. That's asking a lot."
"Believe me, I know."
They got into the car. He put her costume in the back seat and took the passenger-side front. "Don't force yourself," she said. "Talk to her on the phone tomorrow. If she wants to come over, accept but put it off a day because you have business to take care of." She started the car. "String her along. It will be a lot easier if you can adjust your schedule, and brace yourself for dealing with her. Otherwise, she might drop by unannounced because she's so worried about you."
"Do you think she'll do that?" he asked, disgusted.
"I'd bet on it. She's posing as your friend. When a friend's in mourning, you distract them." She sighed. "I'm a little disappointed. I was hoping we might be able to trace him through her. I saw her give back your money."
"Well, some of it. I rented the place for the night. Wonder if she's getting a kickback?"
"It was a nice bit of drama. She's definitely playing a long game. First, she's ingratiating herself with you. But you have to remember that she's dangerous. She knew what she was getting Silverfox and me into."
He hesitated. "Would you understand if I said I'm glad of that? I mean, that she's not some innocent dupe? It makes it easier."
"Yes, I understand."
Tawny was wanted by the FBI. One email and she would be in a Federal institution, and once she had told them everything -- and she would -- she'd be handed back to her owner. But Firefox couldn't stomach that, so they got the Feds off her ass and because of that Silverfox had holes in her leg and her hand in a cast.
It didn't really matter how Tawny had got that way, as far as Shadowfox was concerned.
Gentlemen Adventurers didn't hunt down escaped slaves, brutalized to the point where someone's life was less valuable than a new motorcycle.
And should she mock him for that, even in her thoughts?
He paid for the car and carried the chauffeur costume back to Foxforce's apartment. They arrived about midnight. He gave the recording to Firefox. Silverfox wanted to hear it; Firefox vetoed that on the grounds that Silver might get too upset for tomorrow's blood sample. Silverfox acquiesced with poor grace, and Jerry took on the job of distracting her while the other three sat around the dining room table and listened to the confession Tawny didn't know she was making.
Shadowfox's respect for Jerry went up. He had summarized the recording pretty well. It was couched in words like "Vibrations" and "Impressions" and "Other Side" made more than a few appearances.
"Can you think of any scenario where she isn't guilty?" Firefox asked. "Maybe she's pulling a scam on Jerry without ..."
Technofox was shaking her head. "She got a motorcycle from Fischer so she knows him. And she _coincidentally_says Silver's been murdered?"
Firefox nodded. "Jerry needs to keep her on the hook for about a week. We've got another five days before Silver's last blood test. And that's assuming she passes all of them."
"What do we do if Tawny finds out Silverfox is all right?" Technofox asked. "Won't she bolt?"
"I don't think so," Shadowfox shook her head. "If I were her, I'd say that I received a message from one of the chimerae who didn't make it."
Technofox looked at her dubiously, and then grinned. "It makes sense, doesn't it? Some poor chimera girl murdered and mutilated and calling out from her unhallowed graves for revenge?"
Firefox moaned and threw her pen on the table. She put her face in her hands, and started to tear up. "I really fucked this, didn't I?"
"Hey," Shadowfox said consolingly. "Not your fault."
"Shadow's right," Technofox said. "Want to ask Silverfox?"
Firefox shook her head and sniffed. Technofox put her arm over her. Shadowfox looked away. If Silverfox didn't get over this, neither would Firefox.
When Shadowfox awoke the next morning, Technofox was at the dining room table. She had her normal working laptop, next to it was Big Red.
Shadowfox came out of the kitchen with two coffees. She put one next to Technofox's empty cup and sat wordlessly.
Technofox looked up. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Check this out," the little fox said boastfully. She placed a small aluminum ring on the table. Into the ring, she placed a quarter, heads up. The inside of the ring must have been ground with two different diameters: the quarter sat on a lip and did not fall through the ring.
She put a finger on the quarter and lifted it and the ring. She brought it down, hard, against the table with a bang. She repeated that two more times; the third time she lifted the ring, the back had come off and was on the table. Sitting on it was a micro SD card, rated for sixteen gigabytes.
"Pretty sweet." Shadowfox was impressed.
Technofox smirked, proud of herself. She tucked the card into the micro SD slot in her black laptop. A moment later, she had a file browser up.
"Oh, it's shuffle.exe," Technofox grinned happily. "Wow, that takes me back."
"What's that?"
"It takes a binary file, splits it into a few hundred parts, and then does a Faro shuffle on it. More or less. You pass it a number and a file name and it turns the file into a corrupted mess. Then you run it again with the number multiplied by negative one, and it restores the original..." her expression changed. "...File."
"What's wrong?" The little fox's ears were lowered, and the joy was out her face.
"It's a fifteen gigabyte RGP key," Technofox swallowed.
"Really Good Privacy?" RGP was a common encryption algorithm. So why would... "You mean, like 7.62's?"
"Uh-huh." Technofox copied the two files to an empty directory on her hard drive, and ran a file compare to confirm that the executable matched a version she knew was safe.
"So I know this archive is scrambled," Technofox said. "I'm guessing that the code to unscramble it is the first two digits in those fake phone numbers. I should have seen this coming," she mused. "7.62 had several computers, each with a encrypted partition. Why carry the key to those partitions around with you? Why not just carry the data?"
"To force the police to find one of your computers as well as your key," Shadowfox said immediately. "And to force them to put it all together."
"That's what I thought," the little fox said. She pulled a data key out of her black laptop and transferred it to Big Red. Obviously, Big Red was off the network. "Or 7.62 was part of a larger organization which used this key to share information." Her mouth set into a grim line. "And this key matches the one used by 7.62. We're in trouble."
"Why?"
"Because I modified that key before I gave it to the cops." She looked at Shadowfox. "You remember. To cover up how you killed Doctor Walton." Technofox picked up half of the hollow quarter. "If one of the good guys gets one of these coins, they can figure out I doctored evidence."
Tall Felicia's bagels weren't New York Bagels, but they were good enough. The tiger had picked up more the next day. Shadowfox's teeth sank into one, onion, toasted with cream cheese.
Technofox's computers were hibernating and stacked on a TV tray; the table was laid out with a bowl of scrambled eggs, bacon, and things to spread on Felicia's bagels. The tiger was apparently listening politely to Silverfox, but Shadowfox could see her glancing from time to time at the kitchen.
"I'm really concerned about my range work," the grey fox explained. "I haven't fired a gun in, like, forever. I'd really like to squeeze off a couple of hundred rounds this afternoon."
"Ten days," Felicia corrected.
Jerry was in the kitchen. "I really don't know if I'm ready. I mean, I appreciate it, and you're a very lovely girl, but..."
"Like I said," Silverfox agreed.
Felicia sighed. "Can you do it without using your left hand? I'm serious about that. If you screw up your thumb more you're in a lot of hurt. Trauma drugs don't help with bones. Loading means using your left hand."
"Uh -- oh," Silverfox said. She lifted her left hand and stared at it. Canid chimerae didn't sweat much. Unfortunately, one of the places they did sweat was the pads of the hands. Her cast was smelling just a bit rank. The edges were slightly frayed, because of the periodic insertion of scratchers made from carefully-bent wire hangers. It wasn't a large cast, and it was covered with brightly-colored doodles in marker. Silverfox had been agitating for a replacement.
"One moment," Jerry said. He lifted his voice and looked around the door. "I can help with that. Okay?"
"Okay," Silverfox nodded.
Jerry grinned and gave her a thumbs up.
"Er, all right," Felicia took out her phone and typed in a message. "But you don't drive, and if something happens, you let me know."
"I will," Silverfox promised.
"Okay," Jerry said from the next room. "Lunch. I'll buy. Thirteen hundred tomorrow, at the Spinnaker." He paused. "Looking forward to seeing you."
Felicia was speechless. Her jaw was open, and her irritation was obvious. "You know, Silverfox can hear everything you said."
Jerry came out of the kitchen. "I know. That was Ambush." He looked at Silverfox. "You remember Ambush, don't you honey? She's a model and she has some sort of scheme she's trying to get investors for."
"Oh, right," Shadowfox said. "Didn't she have an interview in New York? How did that go?"
"Not too well," Jerry shook his head. "So she's a little down on her looks right now. Her ego needs some pat-pats. You okay with that?"
"Sure," Silverfox nodded.
Felicia looked satisfied. Perhaps that was less because of Jerry's performance than the fact Silverfox was right there, but she didn't raise the issue for the rest of breakfast.
"We wanted to get some stuff from David," Shadowfox said. "I thought I could run down there today and come back tomorrow."
Firefox looked a bit surprised. "I thought you had an interview this afternoon." The interview was with a porn hubsite, support for the Ebony identity, and the train to New York would be noisy.
"I can do that on the train," the black fox sipped her coffee. "I dropped a line to David, and if he's okay with it I can catch the oh-nine-forty out of South Station and be back tomorrow at fifteen-ten."
"I'm trying to imagine why he wouldn't be okay with it," Firefox said smoothly. She probably had questions, but she wasn't going to raise them in front of outsiders. "I'll handle the dishes."
"No, that's okay," Jerry said. "It's about time. I've had too many breakfasts here without cleaning up."
"Thanks."
Felicia was gone and Jerry was in the next room. Shadowfox was packing a negligee into her overnight bag when Firefox came in.
"Why the rush to see David? Are you just being efficient, or is there something I need to know?"
Shadowfox had been dreading this moment for months. For most of that time, she had half-convinced herself that it was safely under the carpet. Shadowfox faced her team leader.
"I've got a confession to make."
"A confession," Firefox repeated.
"I killed Doctor Walton," she said. "Technofox pinned it on Lilith by editing 7.62's RGP key. The hollow coins in the safe-deposit boxes have copies of the original, unedited RGP key."
Firefox stood there for a while, very still. Shadowfox hoped she could manage the explosion. She had a plan for that: she had done it for Fire's sake.
"So now you have to collect every copy of that RGP key or there's a chance someone will realize Technofox edited it before she passed it on," Firefox said without a hint of emotion.
"Uh -- yes." Shadowfox hadn't been expecting her to respond that way.
"There's no chance they'll decide it was just a different key?" Firefox asked.
"It's very hard to say. There's no guarantee they'll even compare them. If they do they might not notice how similar they are. If they do notice how similar they are, they might not figure out that Technofox changed them."
"So what you're saying is that we shouldn't buy tickets to Montreal just yet. No, I take that back. This is murder and Canada might extradite us for that. What do you think? Argentina? Or maybe we're better off swapping our ICR chips and trying to pass as runaways. Do you think Jazz could get us a place? We'd probably have to learn Ookpik, of course."
Shadowfox looked away.
"All right." Firefox seemed to consider her next option. "You have a train to catch. Nicely timed. We'll discuss the rest later." She turned to leave the room.
"No. Wait," Shadowfox said. She didn't know why.
"Wait for you to explain?" Firefox stopped and looked back at Shadowfox. She had the resentful air of someone whose mind was already elsewhere, and Shadowfox was interrupting. "You're just going to say whatever makes me respond the way you want. And that can wait."
Shadowfox stopped cold, unable to come up with a reply. "I don't deserve that."
"No?" Firefox looked at her lazily.
Shadowfox swallowed several times. "Please don't yell at Technofox."
Firefox folded her arms. "Why not? Did you talk the poor impressionable dear into becoming an accessory-after-the-fact behind my back? Is your noble confession supposed to touch my heart?"
"Because she can't handle it. Not from you. And she did it because of what Walton did to you."
That went home. Firefox half closed her eyes, and nodded. "Okay, fair enough. Fine." She glowered at her. "That's very plausible."
Shadowfox settled herself in her seat and wedged her netbook case between herself and the train's bulkhead. She stuck her ticket in the holder in the seat ahead of her, set the timer in her implant to thirty minutes and closed her eyes.
If she were hit by 4094 she'd retain everything up to her nap. Maybe. Was half an hour of sleep enough to create a save point? She hoped so, although they had never really researched that. Far too dangerous. She shouldn't think about that -- it made it harder to nap.
The computer in her head woke her. Shadowfox lowered the tray on the seat in front of her, and set up her netbook computer. It had soft rubber padding on the bottom so it wouldn't slide on the tray. She checked the voice connection from her headset, and looked at the image of herself on the web camera. She carefully adjusted the web camera so it would only see her against the seat.
The sun was coming in through the window, so she closed the shade. She had no idea how the tracks would curve, so it was an unreliable source of illumination. She clicked the overhead light. That was awful; the light came from above and her snout cast a shadow on her cleavage. She was prepared for that. She had an adjustable book lamp which she plugged into her notebook. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, she was satisfied.
Shadowfox scrutinized the miserable looking fox who looked back at her. That wouldn't do at all. Disheveled could work for her if it reminded the audience of a girl they just woke up with. Miserable and sad would not.
Shadowfox took a wet wipe and delicately patted her facial fur, sculpting it to imply a gentle grin. This interview would be transcribed and the text illustrated with suggestive pictures from her portfolio: the only person to see the video was the guy asking questions and writing it up. Perhaps she was taking too many pains with the video, but she wanted this to go well.
The countdown in the corner of her vision went to zero and then to positive numbers. That wasn't surprising; she wasn't being interviewed by a machine intelligence. When the number hit T+ 30 seconds, she got a call.
The guy interviewing her was in his late forties. She wondered what his background was, what sort of life experience would bring a man to interview girls who made money by getting naked. She doubted very much that he liked his job.
Give me a good write-up and I'll lick your balls, she thought to him.
He responded with a smile. "Good afternoon, er, Ebony."
"Good afternoon, Matt." She called his smile and raised.
"Are you having a good day?"
"Oh, yes." Shadowfox nodded brightly. "I'm on the train -- I'll be visiting a friend." She was careful to look at the camera and not the screen, so she would seem to look into his eyes.
"A lucky man, I'm sure. A lot of the fans on this site talk about the energy you put into your performances. Do you find that difficult?"
Why assume it's a man? No, that was fruitless.
"Well, acting is acting, of course. On the other hand, I don't think you can make it in this business without feeling some of what you put on the screen..."
In her email, Shadowfox had insisted she didn't want to be any trouble; that she knew he was working and she'd get to his apartment on her own. Despite that, David was there to meet her train in Penn Station. If she had asked him to meet her, he probably would have chartered a helicopter to intercept her halfway to Manhattan.
It's so good to see you! She grinned and he smiled in response. She shifted her bag onto her back so they could hug without it getting in the way. Shadowfox was a little uncomfortable with the display and she thought she caught a few looks, but as long as he didn't kiss her they had plausible deniability.
David was chunky, bearded and wore glasses. He looked like he had a pull box at a comic store somewhere, and he probably did.
"I'm glad you could make it." She disengaged from the hug and shifted the strap to discourage a repeat. "I thought you were working."
"I'm taking the afternoon off. Can I carry that for you?" He pointed at her satchel.
"No, I'm fine." She smiled pleasantly. "It's not heavy."
Penn Station wasn't crowded for Penn Station, but even that was pretty crowded. Early afternoon on a weekday, there weren't many commuters. Most of the people travelling were students with cheap nylon backpacks, on trips too short to fly.
"Did you want to have lunch, or would you rather go straight to the apartment?" he asked.
"Apartment. Can we pick up some groceries on the way? I'd like to cook for you." And that's not all I'd like to do.
He almost blushed, but not quite. "That's not necessary."
"You're putting me up for the night and I want to pay you back."
He led her to the subway and swiped his card for her. Conversation was difficult on the platform, and the subways were loud enough to be painful for her. She was glad she didn't commute on them.
She knew David was bi, but she had never met one of his other friends. That was typically a bad sign, showing that he didn't want them to know he knew a chimera. Shadowfox didn't think that was the case; it probably had more to do with how little time they spent together. She should try to arrange a longer visit, with more warning.
"That's no problem." He laughed. "Is there any special reason for this visit? It's not just the package. I could overnight you this stuff, or you could take it from me now and hop on the next train."
Their subway arrived and they hopped on. They were able to find enough room to sit together. She considered putting her hand on his knee and decided against it; if someone started to hassle them it would be difficult to get away.
"I wanted to see you." And by 'see' I mean 'fuck until unconscious.'
He smiled, catching her message. "Then we've got until tomorrow."
"If I'm not taking you away from work."
He looked noble. "I've been working very hard and I deserve a little time off."
"Me too." And by 'time off,' I mean 'getting you off.'
"We could try to get some tickets to a show."
"What sort of show?"
"I was thinking Broadway."
She was beginning to regret the timing of her trip. Her train tickets were for 1230 the next day, the cheap departure. That meant they had all evening, but David didn't care much for the night life; he preferred museums. And he was a lot of fun at museums.
David was a Virtual Investigator, which meant his working life was spent online pretending to be someone he wasn't. On his own time, he browsed online and went to tourist traps to vacuum up trivia and establish his alternate personalities.
David knew she was a sexual agent and it would probably be best to avoid reminding him of that, another argument against going to a night venue.
On Friday the theaters would be crowded. "Well, maybe. Let's see if we're in the mood. I did bring my Playbox controller."
He grimaced, and she knew she had taken a step too far. David didn't live in his mother's basement, but aspects of the lifeless nerd stereotype did apply. Shadowfox was the closest thing he had to an active girlfriend, and he might suspect her of pandering if she wasn't careful.
David hesitated before dropping his next line, as though afraid it would smell too much of geek. "There's a Tezuka exhibit at the Metropolitan."
Shadowfox blinked and her ears went up. She wasn't feigning. "What, really? Can we still make it?"
He brightened at the thought he was pleasing her. And he actually was. "They're open to nine on Fridays. Why don't we drop your stuff off at the apartment, and grab a hamburger on the way uptown?"
Her brain, as usual, glitched before it could translate "open to nine" to "open to 2100." She wished more humans used the twenty-four hour clock.
"Sounds like a plan. Apartment, Met, shopping."
She was tempted to make a joke about instant ramen and noodle cups, but she cut herself off in time. The last thing she needed to do was tease him.
People with room tended to accumulate things; people without room tended to collect data. Shadowfox had nerved herself for a collection of superhero statues; she was glad to see he didn't have any. Instead, he had computers and storage for computers.
David's larder was, in fact, mostly instant ramen and noodle cups. He had a frying pan, a large pot, and a mixing bowl gathering dust; she tossed them into the dishwasher just in case they were somehow contaminated. She was in the mood to make muffins for breakfast, but she'd have to pick up muffin trays and that might be a step too far; so instead she'd fall back on the reliable eggs, bacon and sausage for breakfast tomorrow. Lunch today was taken care of, so that left tonight's dinner.
I can boil, and I can fry, she thought. Spaghetti and browned beef.
It was simple, and the spaghetti would keep him from collapsing into a starch-deprivation coma.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art was a venerable and vast structure. Its collection of artifacts from the reign of Hatshepsut was considered better than the one in the Cairo Museum. David had a solo membership; he got in free, but had to pay Shadowfox's way in.
A tiny fraction of Osamu Tezuka's original manga art was hung on the walls of the Special Exhibit room like paintings, text bubbles overlaid with English translations. By the side of each original page were notes explaining the context of each page. The pages were smaller than Shadowfox had imagined them. There were a lot of patrons; a lot of them might have been Japanese.
It was deathly silent in the room. Occasionally, a smothered chuckle would be heard as someone stumbled across a particularly good comedy bit.
"How did you know that I liked Tezuka?" Shadowfox asked. As far as she knew, she hadn't mentioned it to him; and that meant that her real self was somehow shining through the woman she pretended to be around him. She was uncomfortable with that.
"I didn't," David admitted. "Not for sure. You once mentioned you watched sumo, so I thought it was likely."
Shadowfox nodded.
"How did you get into Tezuka?" he asked.
"When I was young I had a crush on Kuchi'Inu. He's the main character from the Sun chapters in Phoenix."
Shadowfox hesitated. She hadn't thought about Kuchi'Inu for years. Kuchi'Inu was a young boy in the Japanese army that invaded Tang Dynasty China. The Tang caught him, cut off his face, and replaced it with a wolf's. Since it was a comic, the xenograft took and he didn't die of an infection.
Kuchi'Inu was a compassionate and skilled leader, respected by humans, even though he had a canine's face. Shadowfox idolized him although she knew he was fictional. At the end of his story, the wolf pelt fell off to reveal his human face had healed beneath it. It was a hero's reward, and even now she could remember the bitterness of that betrayal.
Tezuka had written _Sun_in the late 1980s, at the time the first sapient chimerae were being deployed by the US Special Operations Command. Shadowfox now believed that Tezuka had meant the wolf's head to symbolize the animal side of Kuchi'Inu's nature and had no intention of saying anything about chimerae.
She looked at David and wondered if she should tell him. It was a strange thought. The idea of sharing part of herself with him was strangely appealing.