'Hurry up and wait' has been Tamarind's life for ages. In the army, while supporting orichalcum prospectors, while supporting smugglers, and as she has rapidly confirmed while doing detective work.

But this is different. Usually it is a matter of either being on stand-by or of waiting for a planned event to happen. Here she knows that Bobby has to come out eventually, but she doesn't know in what way, or when, or if he'll need help on the exfill. She'd like to prepare to help him, but drawing more attention isn't advisable at the moment. She settles for having one flying eye work its way in towards the inner perimeter of observers, but having it not push the boundaries too much.

Outside, the spirit of man seems to be quarantining the drone that was dusted with reagents. The property manager still cowers behind her desk, peeking over to see if it's still there or not. The spirit appears to be waiting for someone to come impound the drone. Tamarind hears sirens in the distance that may be related.

~~~

Inside, Bobby manages to open the dryer door with only a small thump from the door's latch. Then he slips out into the laundry room.

Looking around the laundry room with his adept-boosted vision, his primary reaction is that things are neat and tidy to a perhaps unrealistic degree. Everything is lined up just so. One might take Ms. Potter for an OCD sufferer, but that would be rather at odds with her rather frazzled and rumpled public image. It's possible that there's a cleaning drone, like a Renraku Manservent, that orders everything precisely. Or, combined with the sawdust in the dryer, perhaps the conclusion is that this room doesn't get used at all.

Peeking out of the laundry room, the kitchen and living room (and front door) are down the hall to the left. Near the front door Bobby's low-light vision sees a Lone Star Castle Guard, a home-security drone that's armed with a pistol of some sort. It doesn't seem to be patrolling but rather standing guard by the front door and living room windows. The flashlight beam suggests that the drone on patrol is checking out the kitchen.

Directly across the hallway, two meters away, Bobby sees a bathroom. From here it also looks neat and orderly.

Down the hallway to the right, there is a closed door. As Bobby does not see any other rooms, the logical conclusion is that it must be the bedroom. The door knob is round and smooth, which could make it difficult to manipulate without an opposable thumb. Being an internal door, there is a gap beneath it that might be big enough for small form, like a gerbil.

Bobby decided that the closed door was likely his best option - just as keeping to the ceiling was likely his best way to avoid detection from the drones.

So he turned into a Deserta Grande wolf spider, securing his fetish with a bit of silk to his back and began climing up the wall and along the ceiling towards the bedroom door.

Sneaking through the gap was a question of timing, so he waited patiently for the drone to be away, before he made his way through.

Timing it for when the patrol drone is in the living room, Bobby comes around the corner, runs down the wall, and tries to slip under the bedroom door.

In the process, he slams into a monstrously strong mana barrier (F12) that stops him cold. This appears to be a separate, stronger barrier that's within the warding the covers the rest of the unit. On the astral, the barrier seems to crackle with energy. Bobby recognizes it as the type of barrier that's designed to zap spirits and dual-natured entities.

In the physical world, Bobby's spider eyes can see a little bit of the room. From what he can tell, it's not arranged like a traditional bedroom. There's no quee-sized bed taking up most of the floor space. In fact, there is minimal furniture, and what little furniture there is has been pushed up against the walls. There are lots of candles on the floor around the cleared space in the middle of the room.

Bobby hears the wheels of the patrol drone heading his direction.

Bobby didn't even try to slip through the barrier. This looked very much like a lodge, a very expensive one to boot.
Instead he quickly scrambled back up to the ceiling, trying to memorize the aura of the barrier and trying to find out which tradition it came from. This was a job for a drone to infiltrate. Luckily, he now had paved the way for a Kanmushi to get into the flat.
Instead he headed for the kitchen. Looking around what food items where used - if at all, might tell him something. Also, he could use a little snack by now.

Bobby gets the sense that he's looking at something from the hermetic tradition. That said, the aura resembled a spell rather than a lodge. (Of course, it's possible that the spell was obscuring additional astral activity behind the barrier. Maybe the bedroom really is a lodge.)

Bobby makes his way back to the kitchen.

Things are neat and orderly, almost to an obsessive degree. Perhaps there is food in the fridge or in the cupboards, but there's nothing sitting out on the counter. He does spy a fruit basket and gets excited for a second until he realizes it's plastic fruit, just a decoration.

If Bobby wants to investigate the fridge or cupboards he'll need a form that can open them.

Bobby decided to first go for the bathroom. Specifically, he wanted to look for some hair - a good way to get some DNA for some testing.

Bobby slips by the drones unnoticed.

He makes his way down to the bathroom. Like the other rooms, it is exceedingly tidy. It has soap and shampoo and toilet paper and the other things you would expect of a bathroom, but it is so clean that one might wonder whether it is ever used, or if it was just cleaned earlier in the day.

If there are combs or hairbrushes, they are inside cabinets or otherwise out-of-sight. Bobby can't access them without changing forms. The sink is squeaky clean, as is the tub. Bobby takes a chance and decides to check the drains. The shower drain is unproductive, but fishing one of his spider legs down the sink drain produces a stroke of luck: within a black sludge of soap scum and toothpaste grit is a single eyelash. (It's possible that there might be some skin cells trapped within the gunk as well, but Bobby doesn't know for sure.)

Bobby hears a sharp beep, followed by an electronic chirp. It's coming from the laundry room. Skittering over to get a view, Bobby sees that the flashlight beam of the patrol drone pointed at the open door of the dryer. The drone seems to have detected a change from the previous state of the laundry room.

Bobby wrapped his jackpot in silk and added the packet to his back. It seemed as if it was time for him to make an exit.

He went for the bathroom ventilation, expecting a fan on low rpm extracting the humid air and out to the roof. Checking again to securely bind his packages to himself, he went under the cover, looking for the telltale heat signature of wires powering the fan.

Next he called again electricity to himself and attacked the device with a series of sharp strikes.

Once the fan stopped, he slipped through and began weaving a particularly long silk thread to aid his ascend with the updraft.

There is a bathroom fan on the ceiling. It is not currently running, so Bobby doesn't have to short it out.

However, it is covered by a tight plastic grill. Bobby needs to do burn through a thick layer of plastic before he can form a hole large enough for his current form. The acrid smoke is intense and unpleasant. Under normal circumstances it might be expected to set off the smoke alarm, but luckily most of the smoke goes straight up the vent for the bathroom fan. Perhaps there will be enough ambient smoke to trigger an alarm, but there's no smoke detector in the bathroom so it may take a minute to reach a sensor. That's time Bobby can use to escape.

As Bobby's finishing up the melting, the spirit of man that intercepted the drone outside materializes in the laundry room to inspect what the patrol drone has found. The spirit seems to be reading the astral signatures. Bobby decides it's time to go NOW and squeezes through the rather tight hole just as the spirit whips around.

Bobby races through the vent. For a Deserta Grande wolf spider, it's a long run to the exterior wall. Bobby knows that time is short, as the spirit will begin tracking astral signatures and may soon find him.

Bobby gets to the end of the vent and finds yet another exhaust vent cover, this time aluminum. It is attached to the exterior wall with four screws, one on each corner.

Bobby didn't waste any time: Once again he burned his way through the cover with continuous discharges of electricity, creating a hole large enough to squeeze through with his cargo. After that it was just an exercise of trusting his silk line parachute and drifting away from the building.

<< So, what are you guys up to? Anything interesting so far? AM is still looking for usable data around here, and I mostly keep my eyes open. >>

Bobby's power is a double-edged sword: his electricity makes short work of the aluminum vent cover, but all that electricity has to go somewhere. Namely it follows the screws and is delivered directly into the building's vinyl siding, which quickly melts and then something - the siding or the underlying wood framing - promptly catches fire.

Bobby's now outside the building with his precious cargo but has some important decisions to make about how to proceed from here.

~~~

Tamarind is keeping watch over the apartment building. She notices the spirit of man suddenly dematerializing. A few moments later, there's a puff of smoke on the south side of the building. Something is up!

Replying to Raven, Tamarind says <<I'm just hanging out, waiting for a friend. He's doing some shopping, pottery I think. He should be out soon, hopefully hasn't bugged them so much that he gets tossed out or anything.>

<<Hunh, looks like there is something happening down the way, at >> and she adds the address << I don't have eyes for all that is happening, I think a spirit is doing something. Times like this it would be great to send in a spirit, you know?>>

She doesn't think that she has been hacked, or that Raven has been, but just at the moment she's feeling paranoid enough not to say anything too openly, even on what should be private comms. Hopefully Raven gets the hint, but whether or not she'll risk sending a spirit that could possibly get traced back to her, she doesn't know.

Then she repositions one delivery drone up high with a view towards the smoke, to get some basic eyes on the scene, and sends the other traveling slower down the street, not as high, ready to scoop up Bobby if necessary. Or even to clumsily block a physical pursuer, or even briefly block line of sight.

Bobby ran - down the side of the building and from there across the street and into cover of a parked car. One change later, he took the form of a crow and headed back to the car. This time he made sure, to erase his astral signature after the change.

Once he reached Tamarind, he made his report:
"Dicy situation. Permanent drone patrol in the flat, special magic security for the bedroom - looks like a lodge, but was protected with an active spell. Got some DNA from the drain, otherwise it's obsessively clean in there. I'll ask Razak if he can recommend a good lab for us to make a full test. Gene sequencing should tell us something about her."

Bobby did just that:
<<Captain, we are deeply involved now in the mayorial race - now we need to run some genetic analysis. Can you recommend a discreet lab that will give us quick results?>>

Razak responds relatively quickly.

<<Ha. That didn't take long.>>

<<What's your definition of fast? That turnaround is usually half a week to a week. Faster might be possible if you incentivize correctly.>>

<<There's a DocWagon clinic not far from your place in Bellevue. Fairly close to the Redmond border; I think they use it as a forward operating base for when they need to medevac a client out of the Barrens.>>

<<Anyway, go around back. Be discrete about it. At the back door, ask for Nebula. I'll let him know that you are coming.>>

<<Thanks. We'll report back if we find something juicy.>>

Bobby relayed the information to the team.

<<Do you all want to come with? We'll also need a sample directly from her when one of us meets her at the volunteer job. So the question is do we want to hand the samples over as one package or have one analysis started early?>>

<<Not much value in having one run before the other, I'd think, in terms of data. Whether it makes more sense to ask someone to do one and later another, or to do two together, sounds like a negotiation thing that I'll leave to the negotiating type of people. One tiny advantage I could see to starting with one is if we can set up a protocol for dropping off future samples by drone, but then again I doubt we have the budget for getting a lot of DNA tests run.>>

Tamarind gathers in her various drones, and leaves the area with relief. It wasn't pleasant operating in such a heavily monitored area. She might send one back to keep an eye on things as evening approaches, but it doesn't seem like there is a lot of point in running through battery power for the rest of the afternoon.

<<Checking out beforehand might still be a good idea. No idea how long they need to run the analysis. So partial jobs it is.>>

Bobby replied and indicated for Tamarind to drive to the clinic.

The drive was a bit of a distance, and grid guide made sure there was no easy way to beat traffic, so Tamarind relaxed and let the machines do their job for most of the trip.

Killing time, she asks Bobby how hard it is to fly, as a bird? Some day she'll work up the nerve to actually ask him to change her into something, but for now educating herself will do

When they get close to being close to the clinic she spends a bit of time double checking them for marks, unexplained silent running devices that seem to be traveling with them, or drones that seem to be pacing them.


Then once they are closer she takes over driving and loops around the site first, checking for possible issues, before pulling up near the back door. "Figure we wait to get noticed, or knock on the door?"

<<Saturday Mid Afternoon - 15:00 - April 8, 2079 - Doc Wagon Clinic, Bellevue>>

Tamarind and Bobby can hear approaching sirens as they prepare to leave. Fire engines, ambulances, and Knight-Errant officers all screech up to the apartment building. Luckily the arterial right in front of the building makes it easy to merge into traffic and slip away unnoticed.

It's Saturday afternoon. There's a bit of traffic, but nothing like there would be on a weekday morning. It's not hard for either GridGuide or an experience driver to pilot the vehicle safely. It isn't the most direct route, as it needs to sidestep around the Barrens, but about 45 minutes later you arrive at the clinic.

DocWagon clinics are both emergency hospitals as well as health centers where people can go for doctor's visits and various procedures. The weekends are quieter than weekdays, but there is still a steady stream of patients who are coming in for medical attention or visits with their primary care providers. Naturally, they use the front door.

The back of the clinic is strangely similar to the back of the animal hospital. There are large dumpsters and other containers for refuse and recycling. There's also a service entrance and a delivery bay. The delivery bay door - a large garage door - is open even though there's no delivery in progress.

Looking inside you see someone in a lab technician's white coat working in AR. Their hands wave in the air as they work on AROs you can't see. It's unclear why they're doing it in the delivery bay as opposed to somewhere else. Looking at them, you decide that it's an intensely skinny, intensely androgenous Caucasian human. Their haircut is an asymmetric bob with a pronounced undercut. They're wearing tight black slacks with bright teal ballet flats. Everything about them is skinny and narrow, as if they had been flattened in a hydraulic press. Their lips are pinched and their nose is sharp.

Bobby told Tamarind:
"Flying is incredible - total freedom in any direction. Maybe you should invest in a rigger control - you could jack into a flying drone to perceive something similar."

At the clinic, Bobby got out and walked towards the technician:
"Hey, how's it going? Razak recommend your place for genetic testing. Are you in charge of that?"

The way home is quiet. My mind is running from a few angles, and I am eager to get to the print house tomorrow; I am not entirely sure what to expect...
>> So Tam, did you sign me up for that shelter, or are you going yourself? I then write a friendly email to Potter's campaign manager (I hope), saying there is much support and plenty of debate and asking for a visit.

"Anything out of the ordinary on your side?" I ask Raven while driving manually but quite automatically.

The man turns to Bobby with a pinched expression of extreme distaste. Bobby can feel the man's eyes moving up and down Bobby's cheap vendor automat clothing.

"Are you an escaped mental patient?" the man asks, his voice dripping with derision.

He huffs an exasperated sigh.

"Why can't they ever send elegant people? A noble patron?"

His aura shows a high degree of frustration coupled with extreme condescension. He's not awakened but he does have a fair degree of headware, both cyber and bio.

He reluctantly holds his hand out for whatever you're going to give him.

"The things I do to debase myself for my art," he moans dramatically.

Bobby frowned but then put a smile on his face:
"I hope your art isn't as a stand up comedian. Because you'd suck at it."

Bobby pulled out the little spidersilk package:

"There's goo from a sink in here. There should be one or two hairs or eyelashes in there. I want a full analysis on phenotype, health and whatever else significant you can give me, as well as whatever your databases can tell me about the person.
And preferably, I want the results sooner than later. Here's a commcode and a downpayment."

Bobby handed over a cheap credstick with 500 Nuyen on it as well as the contact number.

"Not really, no. I havn't encountered much of anything in terms of magical activity, to be honest. They do have magical faculties there, though, so I guess it is more concentrated in certain places. Should make it a bit easier for us to get in there, when we want to do some more digging," Rachel answers.

"Well, its Dog shelter and print office for me. The university honestly does not know if Potter is an alumni but they stopped digging into it because it is convenient. I was thinking of seeing if I can find her in physical documents." I comment and adds "it leaves some downtime, unless Bobby and Tam needs us"

The technician is not happy with Bobby's attitude. A bit hypocritical of the man. His aura goes from annoyance to outright anger.

"No!" he says pulling his hands away. "I cannot do it. I cannot debase myself for the likes of you. Away with you! Go, before I call security! A DocWagon HTR team will cut you down where you stand on my merest instruction!"

There might be a bit of a bluff in this but it's hard to say how much. He flicks you away with the back of his hand, as if you are a bad odor that may be waved away.

Tamarind briefly looks up at the sky, sees no help there, so then takes a couple of steps forward to move herself into conversational range.

"Sorry, it sounds like we have a classic culture clash between ex-military and the gentler arts. My companion" she nods at Bobby "Doesn't mean to irritate, he just was very good at absorbing the military's preference to eliminate the small talk and issue orders."

Over the matrix she sends to Bobby <<The others could probably do this more gracefully, but you're stuck with me as a peace-keeper, sorry for the exaggeration.>>

"We come asking a favour, we shouldn't have been issuing commands. I'm sure in your business can be exhausting and hard on the nerves, never knowing what sort of emergency is going to pop up. It must not give much chance to escape into your own world much, and here we are interrupting you. What is it that we interrupted? Anything that I could do anything to help you with? "

Bobby threw up his hands and turned away.

<<Try your luck - I don't care what you have to tell that jerk to get what we want. I'm very tempted to turn him into a blobfish.>>

The man softens considerably to Tamarind's gentler approach.

"I'm sure it would be beyond you," he sniffs to Tamarind's offer of assistance, but his tone clearly indicates that he has been somewhat mollified.

"You are an acceptable patron of the arts," he announces after looking Tamarind up and down extensively. Who knows what he's looking for.

He holds out his hand imperiously to accept whatever you are going to give him. He doesn't even look at Bobby; it's clear he wishes to receive the sample from Tamarind.

If asked about payment, he will reply, "YOUR benefactor has arranged for everything. The results will be ready Tuesday."

If the additional credstick is offered to sweeten the deal, the results will be available Monday instead.

Tamarind gets the sample from Bobby -- rolling her eyes once she is facing Bobby and away from the other -- and then takes a moment to prepare a credstick to pass over along with the sample, 500nY and contact info.

"Of course the work is paid for, here is our contact information and everything else you need to know." An annoyed waiter might spit in your meal, what might a cranky lab technician do? She definitely prefers to stay on his sweet side, and while maybe Rachel or AM could sweet talk him without being out of pocket, Tamarind has more faith in the dulcet tones of nuyen.

Once they are back in her van, she says to Bobby "Sorry to cut in, but he really didn't seem to react well to the demanding approach. I didn't have a problem with how you were doing it, it just seemed time to offer an alternative."

Reviewing what they can do next, she realizes that she'd missed answering a question earlier <<I never went back into the system at the Vet's to change the volunteer information. The system is basic, but so are my hacking abilities, and I didn't want to press my luck. I do think that it would make sense to change it, fortunately we have someone with real decking abilities on staff.>>

Bobby shrugged: "No need to say sorry, it's the result that counts. That idiot can think whatever he wants.

Let's meet up with the others and plan our next steps."

I text Adeline Peters, not entirely my friend, and my first actual law enforcement contact:
>> Adeline, hi... it's AM Jawsie's friend. It was great talking to you at his going away party, still miss how effortlessly he could connect with people.
Anyhow, I wanted to ask you a few professional things and perhaps hang out or have dinner or whatnot. Can we meet, do you have plans for the weekend?

My next tasks is to add myself on duty to the dog shelter, perhaps by hacking. Figuring I'll blend right in there with all my unresolved issues and suppressed traumas. Perhaps I'll keep going - but realistically speaking - I want to talk to miss Potter, and feel her out.

>> Okay, I am doing shelter duty in Saturday morning perhaps catch a talk with Potter. I've also texted that cute magical forensic expert Jawsey was stashing away from us, hoping that she would like to meet and talk about work... and stuff. Wanted to dig about the murder - so any things you don't want me to miss are welcome. I hope she'll talk to me.

Adeline replies mid-afternoon on Saturday.

<<Hi, AM. I remember you. Jawsey spoke highly of you.>>

<<I have plans this evening but I'm available tomorrow for Sunday brunch. I have a weakness for real eggs and French toast.>>

~~~

The clinic's Matrix defenses are wet tissue paper against AM's skills. She has little difficulty slicing her way into the system.

AM sees that Corinne Potter is booked to be in the clinic Sunday evening from 20:00 to 22:00.

Looking back through the records, AM realizes that Corinne is usually the only volunteer at that time of night. There's no difficulty in slipping AM's profile into the system and assigning her a similar timeslot. That said, it does require a SIN, so AM will have to select between her Ammalia Parma and Emma Miller identities.

<< Sounds great, AM! Maybe I can hang around in the vincinity somwhere, and check her out astrally, when she is in the shelter. Assuming, she has no magical protection detail or something like that... >> Rachel offers.

Tamarind is happy to let AM handle interface with the policewoman, cute or not. She's learned to keep her distance from law enforcement when she can.

<<Perhaps we can make more use of the volunteer scam? Does the campaign use volunteers? If so maybe one or more of us could help make calls or whatever they do, and gain some info -- if only who's link to hack or where Bobby should investigate>>

A quick visit to the Matrix site of Ms. Potter's campaign reveals that the Technocratic party does accept volunteers. It's not entirely clear whether a volunteer would get to extensively interact with Ms. Potter in person, although there are plenty of pictures of her leading the campaign staff to help get you excited about the prospect of working with Ms. Potter.

<<I can accompany AM as a pet. For the volunteer gig we have to be careful - they'll want to see a SIN, or you have to hack their system to be allowed inside. I'd prefer the letter option.
Also, I'd like to meet that forensic expert.

Anything we can do in the meantime? There's likely a bit of tumult now in Potter's flat since they found signs of forced entry - and exit. We might have to expect some more security for her.>>

Bobby chimed in.

Which one to use... it is a tough call but I would go with Emma since I don't intend to do anything illegal, and I want to have a GTFO SIN for the inevitable implosion of my life.

>> Aham... I am not sure magical pets and astral spies are appropriate when she can have security. I mean, I would have at least kept a spirit with her for unobtrusive security, and go figure about physical security. Thinking about such, Tam may raise fewer alarms. What do you say hon?

I select a nice Diner out of local reviews one that has real eggs in the menu and then suggest it. Texting >> Real eggs it is along with a location and the suggested time of 10:00 am. Love that she comes to eat so I don't have to do it in the astral - I mean I can see the place but it is not as real to me as it is to Jawsie.

<<Saturday Night - 20:02 - April 8, 2079 - Bellevue>>

AM receives confirmation from Adeline Peters. The agreed location is called Gilbert's, which is in Bellevue mere steps away from the ice cream shop where you first met the Hackers Club.

AM and Raven successfully complete their hack and return home. There they meet Bobby and Tamarind.

A newfax comes through:

Break-in at Apartment of Candidate for Governor

You turn on the trid to watch the evening news, which is just starting.

Police are investigating a break-in at the apartment of Corinne Potter, a candidate for Seattle Governor. The break-in occurred sometime between 13:30 and 14:00 earlier today.

According to Knight Errant, intruders broke into the apartment and later set a fire to cover their escape. Ms. Potter told police that they believe the break-in may be related to her campaign.

(The trideo shows Ms. Potter giving a statement to several reporters. She looks even more frazzled than she usually does.)

"I'm feeling a little shaken up," Ms. Potter said. "Luckily I wasn't home at the time. But I'm not going to let this deter me from running for office. I'm more determined than ever to make our metroplex a better place!"

(The camera shows several emergency vehicles parked in front of Ms. Potter's apartment building as various emergency personnel rush around looking busy.)

Knight-Errant is currently reviewing security footage from the apartment building and the surrounding area. Forensic magicians have also been brought in to assist the investigation. Knight Errant officials are also asking anyone with information about the break-in to come forward.

The break-in is the latest in a string of recent incidents targeting candidates for office. Last year, Howard Cannon - the Technocratic candidate for Governor - was killed in Snohomish. Knight-Errant classified his death as a homicide.

These incidents have raised concerns about the safety of candidates and the potential impact of voter intimidation on the upcoming election. Knight-Errant has vowed to double security for both Ms. Potter and her opponent, Nikola Taul.

(The camera is now interviewing a pretty human woman who looks Middle Eastern or Mediterranean.)

"This is a serious matter," said Aviv Castel, Ms. Potter's campaign manager. "We are calling on Knight-Errant to do everything they can to bring the perpetrators of these crimes to justice."

Knight-Errant officials are urging anyone with information about the break-in at Ms. Potter's apartment to contact them this commcode. A substantial reward is being offered for information that leads to an arrest or a conviction.

The break-in remains under investigation.

"I hope you covered your tracks well there, Bobby. Either way, looks like she is turning that into another little gain for her campaign. People will likely have a bit more sympathy for her now," Rachel comments on the news.

Bobby shrugged: "I underestimated the level of security in there. I mean, come on, who has set the alert level so high that it alerts on a fragging washing machine door standing a bit more open than at last glance? And who the hell uses flamable vinyl covers for the outside walls with grounded screws in a metal cover. That just asks for a house fire. Don't want to know what could have happened if I'd had really bad luck.
I kept my masking up the whole time. Don't know if I grounded out my spell signature enough, but as long as the same spirit isn't around to catch me again, that shouldn't be an issue."

He turned to AM: "I want to accompany you for two reasons: 1) I need to get a reading on Potter's aura to compare it to the rest of the flat. There was a relatively high background count there and I'm curious what her aura holds. After all, she could be a Shedim or a bug or gods knows what.
2) If we need to pull some shady trick, it's better you aren't the one pulling it. Would be a shame to burn your SIN."

Watching the news, I grin at Bobby as he explains his reasons. "There is order in the chaos, they are clearly hiding something. Either that, or you know after the previous guy got murdered they take security seriously, and with the impressive feats some people can pull off her assassin could be a cockroach a moment before they strike." I am not sure I want to know, but I am asking for the curious cat Familiar that seems very interested in the news. Or, to the very least, to me, stroking it absently while watching the news. I don't ask him because I find the mystery amusing. Would I be interested in these things if I were an immortal spirit? Perhaps if I was so young and bootstraped by a certain woman. It is so difficult to imagine not being anxious that I am uncertain if he would care about every little sortie we make.

"Alright, Bobby, you are a grown-up man with impressive magical abilities. If you can do better than the apartment - do come, but like you said... Don't burn my SIN. I can't explain replacing a SIN to my Bellevue neighbors. They'll look at me like they did on Rat and Tom if they knew that I am SINless.

" Unless anyone needs me, I am watching trids in the Trix. " I say, and I plan to watch that new Star-wars movie for the sheer coolness of waving around lightsabers, and always having some badass line to say.

The next morning, I'll wake up early for a brief exercise then shower and e-mails and news, and then go meet Adeline, arriving a bit early to make a good impression. I'll take the Ford because it would draw less attention than my bike. I dress casually which is a jeans and tee, with a nice jacket that verifies that I am on the right side of town. I also wear my signature golden spiderweb earrings which I try never to take off in public.

"I would still very much like to get a look at her from the astral. Could be useful to know her aura's signature. Maybe I could just watch the shelter from a bit of a distance, to observe her, when she arrives?" Rachel wonders.

<<Sunday Morning - 10:02 - April 9, 2079 - Bellevue>>

Saturday night passes into Sunday morning.

AM shows up to a café called Gilbert's that's just meters away from the ice cream shop where you met the Hackers Club, and not far at all from the Gates Hotel and Casino.

It's a pleasant spring morning, sunny but cool. The café is a French-inspired restaurant with buttery yellow tones painted on the walls. It's a popular place - doubly so on a Sunday - and there's seating on the sidewalk. Rich Bellevue corpers wear scarves and the latest fashions as they dine al fresco.

It isn't hard for AM and Adeline to find each other. Adeline is a human in her early 40s. She's on the tall side, and lean. Her hair is professional and conservative; she keeps it on the short side and lets some grey show. Her clothing is similarly conservative, although AM notices a bit of flair from a colorful scarf.

"Oh, I need this," Adeline tells AM as they scan the menu. The volume is lively - and includes some upbeat jazz music - and AM might be a bit concerned about privacy, although the ambient noise will make overhearing anything difficult. They find a table in the back corner that's a bit removed from the rest of the hubbub, although it's right next to the door to the bathroom.

"Let's see, eggs or French toast? Or, how about this, eggs with a mimosa..."

Adeline eventually orders a Danish scramble, which includes eggs, havarti, Roma tomatoes, and scallions. AM sees the price of the scramble (¥28) and the mimosa (¥20), and perhaps her eyes pop a bit. But it's a business expense, right? Mato will want to write it off as a deduction. And it still might be cheaper (and tastier) than a straight bribe.

"Might need another one of these!" Adeline admits as she gulps down half the mimosa at once. "I had a day yesterday!"

She leans forward, perhaps a bit conspiratorially. AM might be taken aback by the familiarity, given that AM and Adeline are more acquaintances than friends at this point.

"I got called into the mess at Corinne Potter's place yesterday," Adeline whispers to AM. She whistles, shaking her head and leaving a great many interesting details unsaid. "Bosses are baying for blood! It's all quite embarrassing after what happened to Howard Cannon, her old boss." She mimes a psychotic expression and a stabbing motion, then laughs and drinks the rest of her mimosa before ordering another.

I grew 30 centimeters taller since I last met her, but my aura hasn't changed much as I am pretty much the same person underneath, and she can see the manipulation spell and guesstimate what I did. I knew there were a hundred kinds of eggs, and I'd even had boiled eggs before, but I looked at the menu and felt a bit overwhelmed, so I ordered the basic one with a roughly chopped market salad to touch the vegetables. I also ordered a Mimosa, and since I can stomach it now, I'll refill it every time I am done.

I grin and say, "Sure..." needlessly indicating that she can have as many as she wants; for once, money is not as tight as it once was, and second I might get more information from a slightly tipsy person.


"That is quite a story...so you have been to her place? Wow... what kind of place is it? I often get a slight glimpse at people from the way their homes feel in the astral. Never developed that gift, though."

I say, hoping that she would tell me more - perhaps I know how in trouble Bobby is. When the second Mimosa arrives, I say "cheers" and click glasses with my Mimosa, all in all doing my best to feel comfortable and staying around the subject for now.

Adeline mimes zipping her lips shut, pretending that she can't say more, although AM can tell that the get-her-tipsy plan might eventually work.

Indeed, partway through the meal Adeline lets it slip. "Her place is clean. Like, super tidy. Like, does anyone actually live here?"

She shrugs in an exaggerate fashion.

"Maybe it makes sense. If you're campaigning all day long, probably the only thing you use your place for is to sleep and shower. That's probably why it's so clean; it just never gets used."

"Thats odd you know... I mean most people that are never home have dirty homes. It just requires constant work to maintain a home, and things like windows and floors still need to be washed. You sure she actually live there? Perhaps they stash her somewhere else?" I say conversationly to peek her thoughts - I'll direct the conversation to Cannon's murder once I feel confident enough.