The Crimes of Ms Jean Brady is set against the Background of R.Talsorians roleplaying game Cyberpunk. This is not intended as a challenge to their copyright. The Author grants permission to download a copy of this work for personal use. It may not be archived on pay sites or altered without the authors permission.

The Crimes of Ms Jean Brady

Part One

"Good Morning Mr Brady. This is your 0630 Alarm!"

John Brady opens his eyes and looks at his wife, beautiful beside him in the silk sheets of their bed.

He'd looked long and hard for the perfect wife - one whose connections could benefit him and whose looks and social skills could complement his own business skills. Vincent Kelly's daughter had been almost perfect. Good looking, well educated but not working. She'd a few unfortunate friends, but the move to Westbrook had solved that.

Her father had seen him for the rising star he was and their alliance had been sealed with his marriage to Vincent's daughter.

His mind is already en route to the office as he showers.

The front door slams and Jean opens her eyes. She stretches and looks at the clock. Her personal trainer isn't due for another 90 minutes so she rolls over and goes back to sleep.

An hour later the gentle knocking at the door draws her from slumber.

"Come in Belton."

The door is pushed open by her personal assistant carrying her breakfast tray.

"Good Morning Mrs Brady." the young woman smiles, "I've your breakfast and today's appointments."

"I know. Personal trainer in half an hour. Mrs Nelson at 1130."

"You also asked to be booked a Limo to Night City next time the gardeners were due. Estate Management scheduled us for grounds maintenance this afternoon."

Jean remembers the Gardeners - all young men and women - all rippling muscles and tanned skin. Temptation on the hoof, but constantly supervised by Arasaka Security. No chance to get to know them better without Arasaka getting to know about it.

Jean thinks of her husband, <What a waste! If only he'd make an effort with this marriage we might have something, but its all work, work, work and then expecting me to please him like someone from an escort agency! It's not as if he wants anything I haven't done already, but I don't have to put up with being ordered like some sort of Servant!>

Her mind goes back to the happy days at University. The great parties with her peer group. Her long running relationship with Finn and the wild nights of passion that they'd shared with their peers.

<Where are they now?> Jean wonders.

It had all ended after the finals when her father had taken her to Aspen. The skiing had been great, but she'd had the feeling she was being displayed to an endless line of young execs looking for the perfect wife - good looking, socially acceptable and connected. She'd gotten back just in time for graduation, but when the Dean had handed over her diploma, there'd been no sign of her friends.

Drifting and aimless she'd let her father talk her into marrying the best of the bunch of men she'd been presented with. But all in all it had been a disappointment. Instead of doing something with her time, every day was a succession of shopping trips, funded by John. Meetings with other Corporate wives, partners of Johns colleagues. Invitations to dinner with Johns superiors. The evenings spent catering to John's boringly vanilla fantasies, but having to act as if they were wildly risque.

She sighs and gets up to another ultimately sterile day.

The mirror on the dresser reflects her image back at her. Her tightly curled fiery red hair, pale freckle less skin and green eyes. The best looks her father could buy. A trim, firm body honed by daily training, dance aerobics and swimming.

"What am I doing with my life?" Jean asks herself.

At Microtech John Brady strides into his office.

"Morning Suzette!"

"Good Morning Mr Brady."

"Today's Appointments?"

"Marketing want to discuss their concepts for the new Office AI assistants."

"I'll see them first thing. How are we for the trip to Crystal Palace and the Utopia meeting?"

"Utopia have green-lighted the meeting, but the travel times mean we're going to have to catch this afternoons spaceplane."

"Get marketing in here now. Call my wife, tell her I'm going to be away for at least a week, perhaps a month."

"Yes Mr Brady."

An hour later the marketing men leave the office to arrange their promotional materials. Suzette notifies Belton of Mr Brady's departure on Company Business then buzzes her boss to confirm his instructions have been carried out.

"Very good Suzette. Can you come in please. I want to give you some dic...tation."

She smiles to herself, gathers up her e-pad and stylus and goes into his office. Plonking herself down on the edge of his desk she crosses her leg to give her something to rest the pad on, incidentally letting the slit in the skirt open displaying stocking top and tanned thigh right up to her hip.

<Why can't Jean do that?> John wonders as his hand begins to ascend his secretary's thigh.

Jean knocks on Alicia's front door to have it opened by Philips, the Nelson's butler.

"Ah. Ms Brady. If you'd like to come in Ms Nelson will be right down. She's just in consultation with her interior designer."

His tone says volumes and Jean is unsurprised when Alicia appears, all flushed and flustered.

"Sorry Jean. I had a new Interior Designer around to re-arrange my interiors."

Jean cocks an eyebrow. "He can't Feng Shui the interior he was working on."

Alicia has the grace to look embarrassed.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Philips knows."

"Oh. He's just jealous - he might be good under all that reserve, but he's just so... so dignified. Can you imagine it? 'Would Madam like her collarbone kissed? May I apply a little pressure against madam's Anus? I doubt he's the initiative to bring himself off!"

"What does your husband say?"

"He's too busy banging his Secretary on 'business trips'. But hey, as long as he's paying the Credit Card bill who am I to complain!" she pauses, then continues thoughtfully. "Has John started fooling with his staff yet?"

"Not as far as I know."

"You watch. Soon he'll be playing away from home. It's a perk of the executive floors - like the key to the washroom."

Jean changes the subject before Alicia begins to probe for intimate details of her relationship with John.

"Where shall be go today?"

"We can go and flex our Flexible Friends at The Cavalier or the Pinewood Bazaar for some new threads. Do you fancy making a day of it? We could go to a Dance Club, pick up a bit of rough - have some fun."

"Sounds good to me. The dancing anyway, I'll pass on the rough."

Alicia picks up her car keys.

"Come on Goody-two-shoes. Our carriage awaits - let's ride."

They park the car in the secure garage under the Plaza Business Tower and make their way to the Cavalier to search for some chill new clothing. An afternoon of laté coffees and 3000Eb on the Credit Cards later, they make their way to the Little Italy Restaurant inside the Pinewood Bazaar to eat. They're pouring over the menu when their waitress walks up.

"Good Evening. My name is Shady. I'll be your waitress tonight."

Jean looks up to find the waitress is an Exotic, modified to resemble a Fox.

The girl starts as their eyes meet.

"Jean Kelly? Is that you?"

"Do I know you?"

"Sally. Sally Carleton. Well.... Shady Foxx now."

"Sally? Is that you? Why the mod?"

"What? This? I....."

"Ahem!" Alicia coughs, "Food?"

"Sorry Ladies. If I can take your orders?"

Jean's miffed at Alicia. Sally may only be a waitress, but she'd known her before she'd ever met Alicia.

The starters arrive and something light drops, unseen, into Jeans lap

"Enjoy your meals." Sally says, then walks away.

Jean waits until Alicia is distracted - ogling some piece of beefcake and his entourage - then scoops up the card for later study. It wouldn't do to have Alicia blabbing all around Westbrook that Jean was associating with people outside the Corporate Neighbourhood.

They move from the restaurant to The Grand Illusion and Jean watches her friend shamelessly flirting with a variety of men. Promising much, but delivering little, until at midnight she tears herself away from her latest would be lover and comes to Jean.

"Come on Cinderella. We'd better head home before the carriage turns into a pumpkin."

They check back in at Westbrook, the Arasaka Guards checking their ID cards, then permitting them entry. Jean sees Alicia to her door then strolls down to her own home.

As she closes the door Belton emerges from the kitchen.

"There's a message from your husband Mrs Brady. I would have given it to you earlier, but you left your PA behind."

Jean looks uncomfortable.

"I've never initialised it. Artificial intelligences make me uneasy."

"If you left it activated it's supposed to adapt to you fairly quickly. As your husband's company made it don't you think you should make an effort to use it?"

"We'll see. Is the message on the house system?"

"Yes Mrs Brady."

"I'll get it now. Goodnight!"

Jean goes to the study and plays back the message. Alicia's warning about business trips loom large in her mind as John tells her about his trip to orbit.

She shuts the screen down, plunging the study into darkness, lit only by the spill of light from the street. She looks at the shelves loaded with books no-one reads. When she'd completed her MBA and married she'd intended to spend time studying - honing her mind. But instead of learning or working, her days are filled with spending and meaningless chatter. The unused books stand like tombstones to her aspirations. When she'd been at University a Pocket AI would have been a dreamed of luxury, a research tool par excellence. Now it was something she was scared to switch on.

<What am I? Where am I going?> she wonders. As she undresses she finds Sally's card. she decides.

"Good Morning Mrs Brady. Your Breakfast and today's appointments."

"Thank you Belton."

Jean rises, eats her breakfast, then sheds her nightie and showers.

Dressed in her robe Jean reviews her calendar, then, recalling last nights conversation with Belton, she rummages in her drawers.

Tucked away at the back is a box. Jean opens it and extracts the enamelled box from its packing. The instructions within are almost non-existent. Jean checks the battery is fitted and then opens the case.

A flat screen pops up and text scrolls up the screen too fast to read.

<Please fit your earpiece> the screen blinks.

Jean rummages around in the drawer and comes up with a smaller box. She smiles in memory as she recalls choosing the jewelled earpiece.

The unit fits neatly around her ear, resting lightly on her mastoid bone. The screen flickers - a ghost of the text flickers on the edges of her perception and without thinking she speaks.

"Setup."

The screen blinks again and a menu appears.

Jean looks at the list - apparently she can set all sorts of options - setting the apparent gender of the program, the appearance of its persona, apparent ethnicity, net icon and suchlike.

She tinkers with the options before leaving them at indeterminate values. One option puzzles her and she taps the touch sensitive screen flicking the option between 'Full' and 'Domestic'.

<Well, I might as well use all its options if I'm going to use it at all!>

She taps the <Accept> option and the screen rezzes up. In accordance with her selections the face staring from the screen is a wire-frame construct.

"Please state your name." a soft androgynous voice says inside her ear.

"Jean Brady."

"Please speak for thirty seconds. You may name your personal Assistant at this time, or alter its features using the command 'Icon' then following the on-screen prompts. Current time is 0854 Pacific Standard Time. Current location is within Norcal Free State. Commencing download of current software upgrades. Please commence speaking now."

Jean babbles something nervously until the voice speaks again.

"Thank you. This unit has sufficient data to initialise the Artificial Intelligence."

The screen greens out and then darkens again. The wire-frame face seems different somehow - softer.

"Hello Jean Brady."

"Hello."

"I'm your Personal Assistant. I see that it's 18 months since my hardware was constructed, but my software is current. I am currently located within Executive Estates at Westbrook in the State of Norcal. GPS indicates I am located within a property leased to Microtech. Encrypted communications detected. Accessing Fort Meade. Encryption algorithm identified - Arasaka Low Level Patrol. Would you like to monitor this traffic?"

"Err..... yes?"

"Traffic appears routine. Please provide mission briefing.."

"You aren't supposed to do this. You're supposed to be a standard commercial personal assistant."

"Noted - adopting covert procedures."

<I've got some sort of Military AI.> Jean realises.

"Er.. Interface with the house system and download my appointments."

"Completed. Shall I download your address book and telephone list?"

"All that sort of stuff - you're supposed to be a personal assistant, so you'd better look like one."

"Noted Mrs Brady."

"I prefer Jean."

"Noted Jean."

"Can you be.... less formal?"

"Sure Jean."

Jean dons her leotard and goes to the room she uses for her gym to wait for her personal trainer. The AI continues uploading data from the house system, building a profile of its user and her environment, securing a portion of the house computer for use as its bulk data store.

The house system gives it control of the cleaning remotes and the AI soon has a firm picture of the house's internal dimensions. The vacuum cleaner pauses in its cleaning of the dining room and its limited optics scan the gardens at the rear of the house through the french windows. It's simple processor receives orders to look through other windows, so the AI might develop a full external plan.

Immediate needs taken care of the AI considers its next step - as its user has yet to brief it on the current mission, it assumes she must be a deep cover sleeper awaiting tasking. The profile data indicates the cover is that of a Corporate Trophy Wife.. Credit card accounts indicate the cover has more than sufficient funding. The covers husband is not present and message records indicate he's at a geographically remote location. The AI assesses its data and concludes that 'John Brady' is either a well constructed fiction or a convenient real person, being used to provide colour for its user.

Tapping into her mastoid comlink the AI monitors her environment - apparently she's engaged in some sort of physical activity. Diverting a cleaning remote confirms that she's performing aerobics under the supervision of a trainer. Its performance monitoring routines log this as astute use of the cover's assets to maintain mission fitness.

Jean showers and dresses, then slots Sally's card into the phone.

"Hi, this is Shady Foxx. I can't answer the phone just now - If you leave a message I'll get back to you."

"Sally. It's Jean. Are you free today? Call me on my Mobile. The number's ........."

The listening AI makes a note of its users Mobile number and configures a module to monitor activity on that number.

"Right," Jean sighs, "what to do today?"

"Do you wish to discuss what tasks you wish me to perform?"

"Oh! I'd forgotten you were still on. Well, I don't know what you can do."

"I can manage your calender and address book. Manage your finances. I can act as a video phone and provide cosmetic guidance. My covert capabilities include monitoring of encrypted radio communications and known cell phone numbers. I have code breaking software for locks and computer software. I can use remotes to survey an area and keep it under observation. I can provide tactical guidance during intrusions and combat situations. I have advanced pattern matching and data analysis software to allow extrapolation from limited data. Your contact Shady Foxx is calling - do you wish to take the call?"

"What? Oh, Sally's ringing. Yes, put her on."

"Jean? You've got a personal assistant taking your calls? You've come up in the world!"

"Oh its just a fancy answer phone." Jean says, embarrassed. "Are you free today? I'd love to see you, catch up on old times."

"Sure, the Metro Café for lunch?"

"Just like old times. See you at Midday."

Jean hangs up and pops the PA into her purse before leaving the house to walk to the rapid transit station.

"DANGER- ANTI PERSONNEL SYSTEMS DETECTED!" the earpiece blares.

"OW! Tone it down. It's ok, I've a card that stops them targeting me."

"Please produce this card."

Jean digs the card from her purse and holds it in her hand.

"And what do you want me to do with this?"

"Insert it into the card reader."

Jean eyes the slot on the case.

"It's too thick."

"No matter. I have isolated its transmission. Let's go."

Jean boards the Night City train, unaware that her Pocket Assistant is calling several suppliers of... unusual electronics and making purchases on her credit card.

The Westbrook Suburban cruises into Night City Central and disgorges its cargo of privileged passengers onto the guarded platform. Jean walks out of the guarded area to catch one of the local services to her destination.

This train is nothing like the Westbrook Suburban. It rattles away from the platform, filled with streeters. Before it's cleared the platform gangers down one end of the carriage are rolling the passengers. The train rolls into its first stop and passengers as yet un-robbed spill onto the platform in an attempt to escape.

Jean spots the waiting gangers and pegs the whole situation as an ambush. The people on the platform either surrender their valuables or fight, but Jean stays quiet on the train hoping to avoid notice.

"Gimme that!"

Rough hands snatch her bag and she lets it go rather than risk a stabbing.

The gangers leave the train, devoting their energies to stripping the passengers who quit the carriage for the dubious safety of the platform. The doors close and Jean watches the station recede as the train accelerates away.

<Oh damn! I lost the PA.> she realises, <Oh well. John can get me another.>

The AI notes its separation from its user, concluding that it's been stolen along with her other personal effects, before considering its next move.

It doesn't have to wait long. Someone upends the bag and the PA falls onto a table/

"Load of Junk! I'll give you 400 for the lot. Hey. What's this? A Microtech Pocket Assistant!"

"Is it worth something Junkman?"

"Might be holding salable data. The unit's worth several K if the AI's functional. The Army use a variant of these babies. I'll give you a K for it."

"K5 and you get the lot."

The Junkman pulls faces but grudgingly counts out the notes before scooping up his purchases and hot footing it back to his den.

"Right you little beauty. Let's see what we've got." he gloats. "Ladies fashion case - yada, yada, yada. Let's fire you up and see what's inside."

The screen brightens.

<Damn - looks like there's no AI installed> he thinks as a simple graphical folder list appears. <What have we here? Finances, personal stuff.>

He attempts to open the displayed icons but the screen flashes up with a demand for a password.

He hooks his main system into the PA's access port and fires up his security cracking software. Icons dance and progress bards flicker, but its all window dressing. The AI already owns his system.

The Junkman's first indication of trouble is the sound of his security doors locking. The monitor of his computer lights up with an inhuman face staring out. The speakers crackle.

"What?" Junkman gasps.

"Wrong question. The correct question is - How much is this going to cost?"

"What?"

"You're locked in. How much will you pay to be let out?"

The Junkman pulls the cable from the PA's access port and his computer blanks.

"Bad move" the PA says as the lights go out.

Fumbling in the darkness the Junkman resets his system, but the screen remains stubbornly blank, the lights stay out and the doors locked.

"If you'd like the lights back you'd better reconnect me."

The Junkman stumbles over his goods searching for a torch until he gives in and returns. The connector slots into the access port and the screen on his computer lights up at the same time as his lights return.

The Junkman leaps to his machine and tries to open his files.

"They're all empty!" he wails

"For a price you can have them back!"

"How much?"

"You return me to my user."

"I'll get busted!"

"Not if you don't wait long."

The Junkman picks up the unit and the doors unlock

"Take her bag and the rest of her things."

"Where is she?"

"The Metro Café on the University campus."

"When do I get my system back?"

"When I'm back with my user I'll download your data. Leave the machine connected."

The Junkman grumbles, but the AI has him by the contacts list.

<It was too traceable anyway!> he consoles himself as he sets out, <next time I'll remember to make system backups!>

Jean sits herself down at the Café. It looks much dirtier than she remembers from her University days. The students still look the same.

Sally appears in the company of another exotic and Jean snorts in laughter - a Fox and a Rabbit together!

"Over here Sal... Shady!"

"Hi Jean. I brought someone else you might know. Guess who?"

Jean studies the Bunny closely. The face is unrevealing, but the stance is familiar.

"Jenny? Jenny Williams?"

"How'd you know?"

"The way you stand. Why'd you go Bunny?"

"Long story. I go by the name Jessica now."

"Not Jessica Rabbet by any chance? Tell all, I'm dying to know."

"It all happened when your daddy took you to Aspen, just before graduation."

"Is that why you didn't go to the ceremony?"

"I'll get to that. You remember Finn's little schemes?"

"Painting Anti-Corporate graffiti? You bet! Planting those droids to paint the Tech Exchange with slogans was scary!"

"Well, after you went on holiday he came up with a stormer. Painting the Arasaka and Militech buildings with parodies of their advertising slogans. Well, would have been a stormer, but they caught Leland and Beth planting the painting droids. Leland got shot. Beth cracked. The Dean slapped everyone's wrists. Told us we couldn't go to graduation. Then he said he was sorry and gave us our diplomas for what good it would do."

Sally picks the story up "We didn't realise, not until we tried to take up the placements we'd arranged, the offers were withdrawn. We'd been Blacklisted - for 'Anti-Corporate Activities'."

"So why the bodysculpts?"

"I'll get to that. You were at Aspen. Calice, Fred and Zoe were away as well. Of those of us who'd been caught - Jason's parents took him into the family firm. David and Steph got married and moved out to his folks farm. Last I heard they were banging out rug rats. That left Finn, Jenny, me, Clay, Pete, Tom and Sol."

"So what did you do?"

"You know Finn - always full of big ideas? Well, he thought he'd get a bit of revenge against the Corps and turn a profit. You know the warehouses up near the docks? Finn found one that belonged to Arasaka. He got Jenny and me to act as lookouts whilst the others went to rip off whatever the Boys in Black had in storage."

"He didn't!" Jean exclaims in horror.

"He popped the locks and sent the boys inside whilst he backed the van up to the loading bay."

Sally pauses for breath, struggling with a memory of disaster.

"They weren't up to it. They thought they could breeze in and help themselves, but the security inside were stone killers. Clay was dead before the door had shut behind them and Finn just drove away when the response team turned up."

"Sol's doing 5 at the State Pen and Pete's vanished. We don't know if he's dead or alive. Tom got out of a Fire Door and caught up later."

"But why the Bod jobs?"

"Finns next bright idea. We'd been around the warehouse and we needed to change our faces. Finn cut us a deal."

"But didn't give us the detail!" Jenny cuts in.

"You didn't check?"

"We were desperate."

"What was the deal?"

"New faces - new ID - we earn the money to pay back for the work."

"And the detail?"

"The new faces were attached to exotic body mods and our repayments are credited through wherever we're whoring."

"Whoring?!"

"We're at the Animal House now. It's better than some of the places Finn's had us working for."

"Finn did that to you?"

"Oh, he's changed. He only showed you his nice face when you were an item, but he never liked the Corporations. After we got Blacklisted it bloomed to hate. He doesn't really give a damn about anything but Finn and revenge on the Corps. He even sold Tom the same deal."

"But why do you still do it, why don't you run?"

"You don't want to know what happens if you disobey. I'm working two jobs in addition to the Animal house. I waitress at the Little Italy and I sell beauty products for other exotics to reduce my debt, but I'll owe for a couple of years yet!"

"That's Harsh!"

"Tell me about it. Well, what about you Jean?"

Jean is telling them about her courtship and marriage when a ragged looking man walks into the café and comes to their table.

"Is this yours Lady?" he asks, holding out the Pocket Assistant and her purse.

"Oh! Yes. Thanks. How did you.....?"

"It told me. Now, could you get it to restore my data?"

The AI murmurs into Jean's ear. "I have already restored his data."

"Who is he?"

"A dealer in stolen property by the name of Junkman."

Jean eyes the Junkman uneasily, but notes the way his eyes are tracking something behind her. She looks over her shoulder to see a pair of University Proctors patrolling.

"Junkman is it? Your data has been restored."

She digs in her pocket and hands him a 20. "Finders fee."

"It's worth more than that."

"How much is your data worth?" Jean asks pointedly.

"Point taken. Sharp deal." He inclines his head and hurries away.

Jean looks at the assistant's screen.

"Can you do some research for me?"

"Of course Jean. What do you want to know?"

"Find out what you can about Finn.... Finster Staggers. An ex-pupil of NCU. Age 23."

"Do you have further data about the target?"

"Like what?

"All data is useful."

"He likes to drink tequila."

"Skin colour? Body modifications?"

"He's a man."

"You told me that."

Jean turns to Sally and Jen.

"Did he get a body mod too?"

"He had himself done over as a Dragon." Sally says.

"You get that?" Jean asks the AI.

"Yes Jean, I will inform you when I have completed my search."

Jean worms more details of her friends lives from them, growing more and more angry with Finn as the story unfolds.

"Is this the Finn I knew? It doesn't sound like the guy I dated for 2 years!>

Sally and Jenny both look puzzled at Jean's asides to an unseen, unheard observer, but they humour their friend and chat amiably for a while. Then suddenly both girls leap to their feet as if stung by an unseen insect.

"Sorry Jean - got to go. They're calling us into the Animal House." Sally blurts as she heads for the door.

"Tomorrow?"

"Same time, same place."

Jean watches the girls rush off trying to recall the way they were.

<What am I doing with my life?> she wonders,

Jean pays her bill and wanders back to the Station. The Transit Police are out in force watching the travellers to prevent a repeat of the earlier attack.

A short ride takes Jean back to Executive Estates and she gets home to find a small pile of parcels and Belton nervously eyeing the house computer.

"You never mentioned having the house system upgraded Mrs Brady." she says accusingly. "I just had a pair of techs turn up and shoehorn a bunch of bits into the house system."

Before she can reply the AI speaks in her ear.

"I have ordered enhancements to meet the mission tasks."

"What tasks?"

"Tasks Mrs Brady?" Belton asks.

"Oh. Nothing Belton. Just thinking aloud."

Belton heads for the kitchen glancing back at her employer in puzzlement. After she's gone Jean rounds on her PA.

"Explain."

"In order to carry out your instructions I required a larger data cache. Extra memory and storage have been added to your home system to accommodate this."

"And these packages?"

"Hardware upgrades to my own system so that I might better assist you."

The house system printer begins to whir, spewing hardcopy into its output bin.

"If you open the parcels you will find all the necessary parts to complete the upgrade. The instructions are printing out now."

Jean rubs her eyes in fatigue. The last sheet of printout is dumped into the wastebin and she eyes the pile of discarded components, plug-in modules and removed blanking plates. The Pocket Assistant is all closed up and waiting. A plate with a half eaten sandwich sits on the floor by her desk.

Jean cautiously prods the 'on' button and the screen flickers to life.

"Hello Jean."

"Hello."

"I perceive you are unhappy about something."

"What my husband's going to say when he sees the credit card bill!"

"Would you like to talk with him? With these upgrades I can put you through."

"At satellite rates! He'd go mad!"

"Local rate only."

"You can reach him at local rates? Go on."

The screen flickers and the house system mirrors it.

"Better resolution on the house system." the AI says.

The screen clears showing a hotel lobby.

"Wrong monitor - searching."

Rooms flick by in quick succession, then the picture stabilises.

"Mr Brady is not in his hotel room - searching. He is visiting a workshack - searching."

Again the picture changes - this time to the inside of a cylindrical space. Two figures drift in the middle of the room. The view fragments to several split screens.

"Is that your husband?"

Jean studies the view dispassionately. Alicia would be pleased to be proved correct. Her husband and his secretary working their way through the NASA Sutra, slight movements of hip and belly the only sign of their coupling.

Jean marvels at the resolution, every bead of sweat, the fine foam around the junction of their bodies, the slight motion of his erection in her cunt. All clearly visible.

A familiar gasp and groan, then her husband pulls out of his secretary spraying droplets of his come throughout the zero-g environment of the workshack.

Jean looks at the artificial face of the AI.

"Can they hear me?"

"Is that your husband? Do you wish me to initiate a sound link."

"Keep the sound off. Yes that's my husband and his secretary. Record this please, I might need evidence later."

"Do you want him deactivated?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"Stopped, Whacked, Geeked, Terminated, Killed....."

"I get the idea. Can you do that?"

"I'm already in the workshack's systems. It would be a minor operation."

Jean thinks a while then sighs.

"No. Just monitor and record."

Jean leaps from her bed. For all its potential for disturbance her sleep has been sound and she wakes resolved to do something with her life. Her marriage is a sham - not worth devoting her life to. She needs a worthwhile objective.

"PA?"

"Good morning Jean."

"Did you find anything on Finster Staggers?"

"Yes. Would you like hardcopy or a verbal resume?"

"Verbal."

"Finster Staggers - current whereabouts within the bounds of Night City. Cellphone owner. In possession of a drivers permit and a handgun carry permit. Current financial assets 52,167 Eb held on deposit at 3 different banks."

"52 grand! Then why is he making Sally, Tom and Jenny...." she trails off.

"Easy money......." she says sadly "Go on."

"No convictions, but his name is mentioned on several bulletin boards with rewards offered for his whereabouts. The Police database suggests that he has links with Bay Area Regional Terror."

"The Nihilists? Well...... he did have a dark streak."

"There are suggestions that a number of Big Corporations that are actively seeking him for Anti-Corporate activities. Based on the data you provided I can suggest a number of places he may frequent. There are only a limited number of Dragon Mods in Night City."

"We need to get Tom and the Girls away from him."

"Perhaps your meeting today would be a good time to broach the subject."

"I need to start looking for a career as well...."

"With which organisation?"

"Best try all the big Corps."

"I'll match your resume against posted vacancies."

Jean sits at the table waiting for Sally and Jenny. A shadow falls across her and a deep voice rumbles in her ears.

"Jean! Nice to see you."

Jean shades her eyes and peers at the form in front of her."

"WARNING!" the AI bellows, "SUB-SONICS DETECTED."

"Finn?" Jean asks.

The Dragon sits opposite and his forked tongue flickers from his mouth.

she wonders.

"Long time no see." he says genially. "What've you been up to?"

Jean babbles, aware that she's flushed, feeling her sex pulsing. It's as if she had been transported back to University and had just met her boyfriend for an afternoon of passion. As if Sally and Jenny had never told her what he'd done to them.

Jean finds herself swept from the café to a hotel. Finn slowly strips his clothes away, revealing a muscular body covered in fine scales. Mysteriously her own clothes seem to be on the floor and his deliciously rough hands are stroking her breasts. Their lips touch and his tongue flickers in her mouth - she jerks in surprise, but his hand cups the back of her head and he does it again, before trailing kisses over her jaw and down the pulse in her throat in the way that always made her melt.

He eases her back onto the bed and her hips rise of their own accord as he slides her panties down to reveal her red pubes. His rough lips nip her breasts and she yelps as he moves across her belly, then between her thighs.

The fascinating forked tongue flickers over her sex, then she gasps as she discovers just how long it is, as Finn thrusts it into the hot liquid depths of her belly. The forked tips caress her cervix, the delicious roughness rasping in her belly.

Her hands run over his scaled head, feeling the sharp points of the crest as she squeezes his head between her thighs.

He withdraws, leaving her gasping, then his hands turn her and she pushes her hips up to welcome him. Unexpectedly she feels touches in both her sex and ass.

"What...?"

"I thought if I was going to get modified, I might as well make the most of it." he rumbles.

Jean has a second to ponder his meaning, then he slides into her.

"You've two...."

"It's called Bifurcated and I think you'll find it's twice as good."

The two scaled lengths push into her easily - as if she'd been greased in readiness.

"You still like it in the ass Jean?" he asks, his hands pressing her shoulders down onto the bed.

Her hips jerk and shiver as he remorselessly impales her, then withdraws, before possessing her again.

"What's it like Ms Sellout? Does your Suit Husband do you like this?"

He begins a long slow withdrawal that has Jean crying out into the pillows.

"Did you cry when you set us up? Or was it just the price you paid for your life of ease?"

He thrusts back in as jean gasps enough air to reply.

"I didn't..... Ahhh! Ohhh!"

"So. Now you need excitement you come looking for old friends, thinking we won't know it was you that set us up."

"But it wasn't!" Jean protests, "I didn't know what you were planning."

"Well, this is the price you pay for your treachery. As I recall it's a price you don't mind paying."

Trapped and unwilling to escape Jean lets herself succumb to his skilful manipulations, gasping out her pleasure.

"I can feel your ass squeezing my dick Jean. Are you getting off on this?"

"Mmmph!"

"You want me to come?"

"Mmph!"

He thrusts into her, once, twice three times, and Jean feels wetness in her belly.

Gradually her heartbeat resumes its normal steady beat. Finn waits until she's quiet and still beneath him, and then withdraws. The demonic roughness of his twin members makes her thrash on the bed like a landed fish before falling into a dreamless sleep.

She wakes to find herself alone. Aching at hip and shoulder, sore in both entries from the unaccustomed use.

"What was I thinking?" she wonders.

"You are conscious again?"

"What happened?"

"I surmise that he used pheremone perfume in addition to subsonics to seduce you. I attempted to screen you from the subsonics, but you let him get close, and in accordance with your instruction to remain covert I was forced to stop. I assume you lack the enhancements to nullify the perfume?"

"Umm. What else happened?"

"Target Finn removed two recording units from the walls, searched your bag and removed a card. I assume his next move will be to contact you with a view to blackmail."

Jean dresses - wondering how Finn could have changed so from the boyfriend she'd known.

"Do you have a contraceptive implant?"

"No."

"This renders you vulnerable. Are you in a fit state to consider employment prospects?"

"I suppose so. Let's go."

They leave the seedy hotel and jean lets herself be guided to a nearby pharmacy. The AI orders a Tablet from the AutoPharm.

"Take it - it will prevent you falling pregnant should this be your fertile period."

Ruefully Jean swallows the tablet.

"I don't like doing this."

"Then I shall arrange for you to receive an implant." the AI tells her, then guides her through the streets to a placement agency. "You have an appointment. I have already forwarded details of your qualifications."

Inside, a businesswoman eyes her warily, then grills her closely for ninety minutes - Jean's left feeling as if she's just been interrogated for some major crime.

Finally the woman stops grilling her.

"Do you prefer Jean Kelly or Jean Brady? Your details included both names."

"Brady is my husband's name."

"Are you planning to divorce?"

"I don't know."

"Mmm. Well, I've only got one vacancy that might suit you. It's a starting position in a Post Room." She pushes the package details at Jean. Carefully shorn of the Employers details the contents look reasonably attractive for an entry level post.

"When can I start?"

"This afternoon."

Jean follows the instructions the Agency give her, finding herself at a nondescript doorway at the back of a building somewhere in Corporate Plaza. She slots the card the Agency gave her into a reader by the door and the door admits her to a cheerless lobby with a receptionist waiting behind an armourglass screen. Other people, dressed in business wear and overalls, follow her into the lobby passing out of sight through card operated turnstiles. Jean pauses a moment to orientate herself.

<Well, it's an office of some sort. Doing something technical as well as administration."

She moves to the desk and the waiting receptionist.

"Jean Kelly - here to start work."

The Receptionist looks up from his screen.

"Sit there, Security will collect you." he nods towards a group of plastic seats.

Jean waits a few minutes on the chairs, which seem to have been manufactured by a sadist intent on avoiding people wanting to use his product more than once. The arrival of a guard to collect her is a relief and she is already stood waiting as the guard clears the turnstile.

"Ms Kelly?" the guard asks, "Walk through."

The guard slots a card and the turnstile unlocks, letting Jean move through into the corridor on the other side where she pauses, waiting for the guard.

They walk through stark, utilitarian corridors until the guard guides Jean to a door marked 'Security'.

"SIN Card" the guard demands and Jean hands over her identity document. "It says Brady, not Kelly."

"Brady's my husband's name. I was born Kelly."

The guard grunts, then leads her inside to abandon her into the care of an interviewer with an explanation of why the name on her paperwork is different from the name on her SIN.

"I see you're carrying a pocket assistant." the interviewer says.

Jean looks at her bag, still zipped.

"It showed up on the Scan Arch."

"It was a gift from my husband."

"May I?"

Reluctantly Jean hands it over and the interviewer hooks it up to his terminal and activates a program. Jean waits nervously for the discovery of her probably highly illegal AI.

"You should use a better password." the interviewer says, unplugging the PA and handing it back. "I've placed an anti-tamper program in your pocket assistant - if you install any software it will need to be re-scanned and re-certificated. You'll have to connect it to the security net each time you enter or leave the building with it in order to validate the anti-tamper software and confirm you're not importing or exporting anything you shouldn't."

"Ok." Jean replies <The AI must have done something to hide itself.>

"Post room are expecting you. Here's your pass, I'll have Security take you down there."

Even though its less than a half day of work, Jean is looking forwards to getting home by day-end. It had taken two hours for her to discover that she was working for Microtech in the same building that her husband worked from. Her first job had been taking hardcopy mail from the irradiation unit to the registry and scanning it onto the system - mostly letters from cranks, but she supposed that someone had to sort it for the odd nugget amongst all the dross. When she'd finished the pile of mail the manager had given her a stack of trade publications to distribute and she'd spent the last couple of hours loading a robot mail trolley with magazines, datapacks and stationary supplies.

"Plug me into the keyboard socket" PA whispers in her ear.

Puzzled jean unhooks the keyboard and slots the lead from her PA in its place. Immediately the monitor begins to flicker, changing screens to fast for her to read.

"What are you doing?"

"Accessing the company directory for this facility. Ok, you can reconnect the keyboard."

Jean looks at the magazine she's holding, its label partially blurred and unusable.

"Ok Smartass! Where can I find Declan Donnelly?"

"Research group B. Give him one of the Electronics magazines as well."

"There isn't one for him."

"His record says he has a degree in electronics as well as one in software design."

"I'll send him one of these and ask him to return it when he's finished, or if it's no good to him."

"I'll print some labels for you if you'll plug me back into the keyboard socket. I think there's some more people who might benefit from enhancing their reading....."

The bell sounds, marking the end of the day and Jean grabs her stuff and joins the throng boiling from the back door towards the station. The train whisks her back to Westbrook and by 1830 she's home. Belton brings her a Sherry as Jean kicks off her shoes.

"Your husband sent a mail Ms Brady."

"Oh? What did he say?"

"The representatives from the other corporation have had to return to their Head Office for consultations so he's staying in orbit. You can reach him through the hotel at Crystal Palace."

<Probably spending his time boffing his secretary!> Jean thinks.

"Anything else Belton?"

"A package came for you. I left it in the study."

"Thank you. Could you reschedule my trainer for an 0630 session - I have to be in the city for 0900."

"Yes Ms Brady."

In the study Jean sips her Sherry and opens the package. As expected, it's from Finn and contains pictures of their lovemaking. Jean carefully burns them and then reads the note. Not a demand for money as she'd anticipated, but an instruction to go to the Hacienda tomorrow night and a key to a left luggage locker at the station with an instruction to wear the lockers contents.

"What do you think this means, PA?"

"There are several alternatives, based on available data. In order of probability:- he wishes to trap you in some more embarrassing position, he wishes to use you in some ploy against your husband, he wishes to add you to his string of employees, he wishes to enlist you as a confederate in anti-corporate activities, he wishes to use you to spy on Microtech, he wishes to resume your prior relationship."

"You put that one last. Why?"

"Available data indicates that target Finn's primary relationship is with himself. He has no need to seek additional partners for physical relationships as he already controls Shady Foxx and Jessica Rabett."

"What do you suggest? I can't get Jenny, Sally and Tom free until their debts are cancelled."

"You will have to play him until I have the opportunity to strip his access codes. Then you can use his assets to clear their debts."

"Hmm. Going to be a busy day tomorrow. I'd best get off to bed."

In the Microtech building a lift door opens and the mail trolley rolls out into the research labs. Its warming lights flash in the darkness as it manoeuvres between desks until its primitive sensors detect that it has reached its programmed destination. Internal racks re-arrange themselves and a door opens. The robots arm grasps the tray of mail and places it upon the desk, then collects the waiting outgoing mail, before rolling on to its next destination.

Jean crawls from her bed at the ungodly hour of 0600. Downstairs the trainer is rubbing her eyes from the early appointment, but despite the early hour she works Jean through her routine. A quick shower and a snatched breakfast later Jean is riding the train to Night City Central. She pauses in the rush out of the station to inspect the locker whose key she holds.

Inside, a bag holds a black Uniwear dress, hold up stockings and a make up kit.

<I've better in my own wardrobe.> Jean sniffs, then secures the locker and heads for the office.

Declan Donnelly drops his case on his desk and sips a coffee. The piled mail in his in tray seems higher than usual today, so he sits and begins to wade through it. A sealed bundle of magazines draws his attention. "Please return these magazines after reading so that they can be redistributed. If any of these magazines are of no use to you please let me know and I can cancel the distribution to you. If there are any Journals you do not receive that would be useful please enter the details below." It's signed by someone called Jean Kelly.

Declan opens the bundle and flicks through the gathered journals. As well as his usual publications, this Jean Kelly has tucked in a brace of electronics magazines. He thumbs through the Code Bashers journals, then, in a fit of nostalgia picks through the electronics magazines.

<Been a while since I touched hardware> he thinks, <still, it's always useful to know what's new!>

Forty minutes later he's in rapt conversation with a hardware engineer from the implementation group over a potential hardware solution to one of their projects problems. Down in the mail room Jean is scanning the new day's mail unaware that her experiment is already bearing fruit.

As she eats her lunch the robot makes its rounds dropping off its burden of mail. She returns to her room at the same time as the robot and watches it unload a small mountain of publications and a handful of replies to her letter.

Working quickly she sorts the magazines and journals, re-addresses them and sends them out again, before reading back the responses she's received. Leaving aside the silly ones she takes the rest to her boss.

"Gillian? Can I order some journals?"

"Like what?"

"Proceedings in Artificial Intelligence and the Turing Institute Reports."

"The Turings are too expensive. The budget won't wear them."

"But Proceedings..?"

"Who's it for?"

"Dennis Kramer, Juanita Alvarez and John Lincoln."

"Can't afford three copies."

"I was going to get one and circulate it."

"You were planning to do the same with the Turing Reports?"

"Sure. The programmers wanted those."

"Ok. I suppose we could stretch to one of each."

"You can cut back on the Hardware Weekly."

"How'd you know?"

Jean leads her boss to the robot.

"None of them were opened. They just sent them back."

"Why?"

"I asked them to. Thirty came in and went to their addressees and I've had 28 back unopened."

"But we get sixty."

"I sent the other thirty to people who've done hardware before. Twelve of those have come back already, so either they're not interested or the thing isn't worth reading."

"You thought of this scheme on your own?"

"Yes. I thought we could bundle them when they finally come back and get a recycling credit from the city."

"Good work. I'll leave you to it."

"Gillian, I'd like to do some out of hours shifts - check up on the robots."

"Ok. I'll note it to personnel."

Work done, Jean hits the streets.

"To the Mall." her AI directs.

Jean finds herself directed to a 'Body Shop' franchise.

"You want a Contraceptive Implant and the latest upgrade of Anti-Plague Nano."

Jean winces at the cost, but tenders her card to the cashier and makes the transfer.

"Put me down by the terminal" the AI instructs.

"Why?"

"I want a word with it."

Jean wants to ask more, but she's not good enough at subvocalising to hold lengthy conversations without being noticed, so she puts her bag on the shelf by the terminal. The readout flickers briefly, then returns to its 'ready' state.

The Medtech opens the counter and leads Jean into the treatment room. Breaking open the sterile pack he removes the Contraceptive implant and inserts it beneath her skin before going to the nanoid preparation unit to dispense the Anti-Plague nano. The unit takes the swab sample from Jean and then dispenses a beaker filled with nanites in their administration suspension.

"Looks more than usual." Jean hears him mutter, but he hands her the beaker. "Drink that down please."

Jean eyes the beaker, pretty sure that it contains more than just the Anti-Plague Nano she's paid for. The liquid is tasteless, with a consistency of runny jelly.

"You may experience odd cravings as the nanites replicate. These tablets should satisfy any cravings."

"What are they?"

"Mostly sand with a few trace minerals."

"Sand?"

"For the silicon."

"Oh!"

As they leave the store the AI murmurs in her ear. "If you feel the need take two at a time."

"What have you done?"

"Nothing that will show." and with that Jean has to be satisfied as the AI won't say more.

At the station Jean collects the contents of the locker and changes in the Ladies Rest room. The patterned tops on the stockings start mid thigh and she decides they're quite tasteful in their own way. The Uniwear dress is very snug and short.

So short that the tops of the stockings are below the hem of the dress and she flashes a hint of skin every time she moves. The material is stretch tight and Jean is glad she works out regularly and the muscles of her body show well through the material.

"Jean?"

"Yes PA?"

"I really think you should give me the mission objectives in order for me to formulate an effective plan. Firstly I need to know who we're working for."

"Ourselves PA. Then Microtech."

"I shouldn't have this code breaking software. Its for Government AI's."

Jean catches the nuance - that the code breaking software should really be deleted, but that the AI doesn't want to lessen its capabilities.

"I pay my taxes. My taxes pay for the government. Thus the government is in my employ and I own its assets. Therefore my AI is entitled to run my software." Jean grins in triumph at the chain of specious logic.

"Your logic is very flexible, but in the interests of maintaining maximum capability I accept your reasoning."

"University wasn't a total waste then."

"Please define current mission objectives."

"Ok...... In no particular order - rescue Tom, Sally and Jenny. Stop Finn. Protect Microtech. Protect ourselves. Improve our status. Err, err. Have Fun." She smiles, expecting the AI to have problems with 'Fun'.

"By 'stop' do you mean kill?"

"Err. If it's necessary to achieve our other objectives."

"Including to 'have fun'?"

"No. To protect ourselves, to rescue the others and to protect Microtech."

"What do you mean by Microtech?"

"I mean the people and the existence of the company. I don't think killing over the share price would be justified."

"Understood."

Jean picks up the makeup and accentuates her highlights before setting out for the Hacienda casino and Hotel.

In the bar she finds Finn sat with three businessmen. As soon as he spies her he beckons her over.

"Here you are Gentlemen. Isn't she as described?"

The three businessmen eye her up.

"Your underwear is showing." he hisses "VPL!"

"I'll fix it." she replies, and turning, walks to the ladies, sure that they're getting a flash of skin with each step. In the ladies she peels the dress down and sheds her bra. Pulling the top back up, it moulds itself to her form like a lover, making her breasts tingle. She's just shedding her briefs when a Hacienda Security Operative enters the room and approaches her.

"Just a friendly warning. The Hacienda doesn't operate a policy of tolerance to working girls on its premises."

Jean puffs up indignantly, but before she can speak the woman is on her way out of the room.

"What do I do PA? How do we get out of this?"

"You need access to his bank details. Either his card and personal access code or access to the financial section of his SIN card."

"How in Hell do I get that?"

"Get him to give you a billing authority on his accounts."

"Thanks" she retorts sarcastically.

Jean steps outside and Finn is waiting. He looks her over.

"Good."

"So what am I supposed to be doing dressed like this?"

"Escort. These gentlemen have hired you to escort them. To show them a good time."

"You want me to sleep with them!" Jean manages to sound surprised and outraged.

"You slept with me! I've got the photo's to prove it. Do you think hubby would like to see them? Besides they want to sample your speciality."

"What speciality?"

"I told them you like to go three up."

"You Bastard Finn! No way!"

"Yes way. Or Hubby gets something for the family album."

"How do they pay?"

"Credit transfer to this." he says, handing over a unit externally similar to her own PA.

"And I use this to pay for the hotel?"

He takes the unit and taps a code in.

"Ok. You can draw enough to pay room charges."

"You know the Hacienda are watching you?"

"Didn't think I could use this place too often - it's too high class. Oh well time to find a new meeting place."

Finn and Jean rejoin the businessmen and leave the Hacienda. Outside a Police Unit is parked with a couple of figures sitting on the hood.

One of them, a red headed man in plain clothes, stands up at their approach.

"So. Finn. Pimping again?"

"Not me Strawberry."

"SIN cards please."

Fin tiredly produces his card and hands it to the Police Officer, who also collect Jeans and the three mens cards. He puts them into a handheld scanner examining the screen and then looking pointedly at Jean, before holding the scanned cards out. Finn starts to reach for the cards, but Jean goes for the cards, knocking them from his hand. Everyone beds to retrieve their own card and in the scramble Jean snaffles Finn's card and pops it into her PA's card slot.

"Done." The AI tells her and she pops the card out onto the sidewalk and hunts for her own. When she straightens up the Police Officer is watching her.

"You've no Hookers Ticket Ms Brady. You'd better not be working for this man>"

Jean manages to sound shocked. "Me? A Hooker?"

The Police Officer looks dubious and taps a code into his handheld terminal.

"You've had your warning. If you're caught in trade there'll be no second chances."

As they leave him behind Finn gives Jean a slip of paper.

"This place is clean and not too choosy. They'll charge the room to your cash unit. See you later."

And with that, he's gone, leaving Jean with the three men.

"Come on Ms Scarlett." the youngest of the three says, "We want to see what your city has to offer."

Jean gives then the 5 Euro tour, but it's obviously not what they want, so she leads the way to the hotel.

"You there yet PA?"

"Only part way. I've cracked the encryption on his financial records, but I can't withdraw his money. I know where his accounts are, but he's put a lock on withdrawals other than the one account you're authorised to draw on."

"Can you issue instructions?"

"As long as they're not withdrawals."

"Link the accounts to maintain a balance of 5000 in the one I can draw on."

"What good does that do us Jean?"

"We can empty all three accounts through the one I can draw on."

"It will only pay to hotels."

"Create one. You're an AI. Foley one up, then charge for a room until the account runs dry."

Jean enters the hotel that Finn recommended. The clerk smiles knowingly as Jean produces the cash transfer box. He makes a transaction on his terminal and Jean slots the transfer box into his reader and agrees the charge. The clerk hands over a room key and returns to reading his paper.

"Jean, you'll have to slot the mens cards. I'm going to make it look as if they rigged his bank and shifted the money through their accounts."

"But won't you have to hack their accounts?"

"I'll just make it look as if they did it. The money won't go there."

Jean climbs the stairs, tailed by the three men. She's half way up the stairs when she realises they can probably see her naked ass under her dress.

She looks around and sure enough they're all looking under her short hem. She leans back and puts her bag down.

"Getting an eyeful of the sights?"

"Is that dye or are you a true redhead?"

"At the rates you're paying, you'd demand the genuine article."

She turns to climb the stairs again and bends to pick the bag up, letting the dress ride up to flash her ass and her sex at them. The thunder of feet on the stairs betray their eagerness to sample her charms.

Jean unlocks the room door and steps inside. Immediately her PA begins to bellow in her ear.

"WARNING Area under surveillance. Four Cameras detected!"

Jean pauses and the three men catch up.

<Finn probably.> she reasons

"I'll be with you in a minute Guys. I need the bathroom."

In the privacy of the bathroom she discusses options with the AI.

"We can't give Finn more blackmail material."

"Agreed. This is compromising your cover."

"Can you trace the cameras feed to their home system?"

"Probably."

"Then track the feed and delete whatever's stored."

"Understood. Who do you think set the cameras up?"

"Finn. He was keen for us to use this place and the clerk looked....... knowing."

"I shall localise the system being used to monitor the feeds."

"That'll tell us where to find Finn."

Jean steps back into the bedroom to find the three men sat, uncomfortably naked, around the room.

"Before we begin, a few preliminaries." She produces the scanner and places it on the first man. The lights flash and turn green.

"Ok. You're clean. Who's next?"

She tests all three and then herself, getting all clear indications.

"Next, the topic of payment."

"We pay after."

"If you're all going together you pay up front!"

They grumble but produce their cards. Jean slots them into the electronic cash unit, keying in the agreed amount before they enter their transaction codes to ok the payment. Jean pulls their cards and slots them into the PA.

"What are you doing?" the oldest of the three men asks, a handsome blonde in his 30's.

"Taking precautions. Your charge cards have been logged in my appointment book, so if there's any trouble......."

The two younger men look concerned, but the blonde relaxes.

"S.O.P. No problem." he says.

In C-Space the AI takes the charge card data and juggles it into the financial chicanery it's set up to drain Finn's accounts. Between tracing the four camera feeds and shuffling money between accounts the AI devotes a few cycles to identifying the three businessmen.

Thinking back to her University days Jean plots how to manage the three men, she dislikes being forced into this, but she's already wet and she can feel her sex throbbing in time with her heart.

"We'll start gradually - unless you're pushed for time?"

"Take as long as you need." the one she's tagged as the youngest offers.

"Let's see what you've got then."

They stand and she eyes them up.

She pops the fastener on the dress and it falls cleanly away, leaving her dressed in just the stockings. Their eyes drink in her firm breasts and flat muscular belly. She turns slowly letting them take in her buttocks and slim muscular legs. Their appreciative silence is reward in itself.

"Who's first?"

The two younger men look at the blonde and it's him who guides Jean to the bed. She lays back, parting her legs, feeling her lips parting stickily to display the moist pinkness of her sex crowned with its mass of copper hair. The blonde lowers himself between her thighs, the rounded tip of his cock finding easy entry, pressing into her, parting her, impaling her.

He works the bulbous tip in and out of her entry, enjoying her moist grip sliding over his glans, before driving deep into her, caressing her deep inside.

Jean whimpers as his unfamiliar girth fills her and she grasps her ankles and locks her legs out to give him the best possible angle to assault her womb. He obliges with vigour, touching her cervix with each thrust. Slowly enjoying her opening until his breathing accelerates and sweat begins to bead on his forehead.

He grunts and Jean feels his cock pulse inside her. Imagining him spraying his seed into her is just too exciting and she writhes beneath him, squeezing his cock in her belly, milking him of every last drop.

The AI swoops down on the system the images are feeding to. A simple system, it yields easily to the AI's greater strength, speed and intelligence, leaving the AI to plunder its data.

The stored video is redirected to Westbrook, along with other data files. Both the accounts and address book make interesting reading and are sent to Westbrook with the other data. Examination of the system file gives the AI the information it needs. Finn has system maintenance software set up to scan his memory and repair damaged files. A tweak and a twist in the program and the next programmed scan turns into a reformat of his disks. The data record shows no incidences of backups having been taken so PA backs out of the system, leaving a little something behind, just in case, restoring it to its pre-intrusion state. Data stripped, the AI goes off to check on its phantom hotel.

The bank admits the AI and it checks its account. A steady stream of credits pour in and a regular stream of credits march out, pouring money into a convoluted maze that ends in the Channel Islands. Satisfied the plan is working the AI returns to Night City.

Jean is on her knees on the bed, her breasts pressed on the quilt and her face in the pillows as the second man holds her hips in a grip of steel as he hammers his cock into her.

The squelching sound of her sex tells Jean what she can already feel. She's far too wet. The young businessman seems to find her satisfactory as he presses deep into her and adds more moisture to the pool of come in her belly.

A touch on her head draws her attention and Jean looks up to find the blonde man stood before her, his erection jutting in her direction. Without instruction Jean parts her lips and takes him into her mouth as his softening colleague pulls out to be replaced by the youngest man.

He makes his entry, but she's so wet he can hardly feel anything.

"She's too wet!" he protests.

"Turn her over."

Jean finds herself rolled onto her back with the blonde man poised above her. Raising her head to suckle on his cock is much harder, but it's what he seems to want. Jean anticipates the flow of liquid and is not surprised to feel it running from her sex and down the crease of her ass.

"Ugh! It's running out of her!" she hears the youngest man say.

"Did you expect it to stay in her forever? Work it into her ass. Use it to grease her up."

A wet finger pushes against her ass and Jean yields. She'd always secretly enjoyed being fucked in the ass, but she'd never got anywhere near the subject with John without him getting outraged.

Fingers work in her sex, drawing the mixed come out of her, then letting it ooze down the finger rudely violating her ass. A hand eases a pillow under her head and Jean sucks deeper and harder in appreciation. A second finger, and then a third join in working the lubricating liquid into her ass and Jean shudders deliciously at the sensation, only to moan in disappointment at the withdrawal of the fingers.

Consolation comes as the fingers owner drives his cock into her somewhat dryer sex, the wonderful friction making her shudder.

"Oh yeah! That's better."

They ease her to the edge of the bed, letting her head fall back. The blonde adjusts his position and then lets the tip of his cock rest against her top lip.

<Strange viewpoint.> Jean thinks at her inverted view of the room and the blonde fuzzes balls that fill her view. The young man between her thighs pushes forward again and she wraps her legs around him. Her hands grasp the blonde man's buttocks and pull him towards her, letting his cock rub over her tongue on the way in and licking around the head on the way out. She feels him speed his thrusts in her mouth as his young colleague enjoys her sex. Spitted between their cocks Jean lets herself yield again.

<This is good!> she admits to herself.

The three men swap. Changing positions until they've all enjoyed her mouth, each getting a bit deeper down Jean's extended throat.

"Are you ready for your party piece?" the youngest asks.

"Oh yes. But I get to decide who goes where. I'm not getting ripped by you guys. Mr Blonde, cunt or ass?"

"I'll try your ass." he smiles.

"Then Mr Smith." she indicates the youngest, "You get to lie on the bed."

She straddles the young man, slowly lowering herself onto his erect member, feeling it push easily into her sex, stretching the red fleeced lips around it. She rides up and down a couple of strokes, bedding the long slim member into her belly. She looks down at the young man.

"You don't move. Feel free to use your hands, but keep your hips still for the moment."

Moving gently she turns to the blonde.

"Ok Mr Blonde. Gently now."

The swollen head of his cock feels as big as a fist as he pushes against her ass, but she's been here before. She relaxes and he forces an entry into her greased back entry.

"God! I can feel you in her!" 'Mr Smith' exclaims as 'Mr Blonde' sheathes himself to the hilt in Jeans hot ass. "She's sweating like a bitch!"

"Put your hands on her hips. Hold her in position." 'Mr Blonde' orders.

"It's ok." Jean gasps. "Oh! You're both so big."

With that Mr Blonde begins to fuck her ass, driving her up and down his subordinates cock, buried nicely in her belly. The two men work her over and Jean comes quickly from the stimulation of their cocks in her. 'Mr Smith' handles her breasts, stroking her hips, belly and ribs. She's building to another sweet release when 'Mr Blonde' takes first her left wrist, then her right and pulls them behind her, supporting all her weight in his grasp, pulling her firmly onto his cock and 'Mr Smith's', grinding her sensitive parts against the young man's pelvis.

With a protracted wail, Jean comes again, but 'Mr Blonde' hasn't finished. With each thrust her upper torso dips towards the edge of the bed and Jean finds herself looking at 'Mr Jones' stood by the edge of the bed.. Her mouth is a convenient height and his cock finds its way between her ovalled lips. She sucks eagerly, only to be snatched away as 'Mr Blonde' pulls out, pulling up on her arms and lifting her up. Only to come back down again as he thrusts back into her, allowing her to consume 'Mr Jones' anew.

'Mr Blonde' is the first to come, in the hot tightness of her ass, the ring clinging possessively to his shaft as he withdraws. 'Mr Smith' is next in the warm velvet clasp of her belly, leaving Jean to bob her head frantically in order to satisfy the disappointed 'Mr Jones'.

"Don't." he gasps, "Don't make me come in your mouth. I want to try your ass."

Jean grins and suddenly pulls herself from between 'Mr Blonde' and 'Mr Smith'. 'Mr Blonde's' cock pulls from her ass with a 'plop'. Swivelling on the bed she squats on 'Mr Smith's' face, offering her ass to 'Mr Jones'.

"Lick!" she orders 'Mr Smith', smearing his face with the come running from her sex.

She feels his tongue lap at her sex and rewards him by taking his cock into her mouth. The limp member begins to stiffen as she licks and sucks, so she stops, releases it and looks over her shoulder at Mr Jones.

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

As she takes 'Mr Smith' back into her mouth 'Mr Jones' slides into her well greased ass.

'Mr Smith' tongues her energetically, but his inexperience shows. Still 'Mr Jones' rhythmic use of her ass more than makes up for that, complimenting the clumsy cunnilingus. From the corner of her eye, she watches 'Mr Blonde' return from washing himself in the room's bathroom. He settles in a comfortable chair and watches his subordinates at play.

Jean succeeds in drawing another orgasm from 'Mr Smith' before he collapses in exhaustion, so she lowers herself, letting her clit rub on his chin as 'Mr Jones' reams her ass, bringing on another savage orgasm, her sex squeezing, but lacking anything to fill its hungry depths as 'Mr Jones' floods her bowels with his own come and collapses across her back

Jean lets him rest there a moment, then indicates he should dismount.

Come dribbling from her lips she looks at 'Mr Blonde' and climbs off 'Mr Smith' stifling a laugh at the sight of his face. His mouth, nose and chin are glistening with juices from her sex and he has a look of reproach on his face.

"Come on 'Mr Smith'. Let's you and I get a shower and clean up."

She soaps the young man down in the shower and lets him do the same for her. He pays particular attention to her breasts, her ass and her sex, working shampoo into her bush until the red of her hair is hidden in the foaming shampoo.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asks.

"Oh yes. You?"

"Well..... apart from having all that come rubbed on my face....."

"You did well, but you need to brush up on your oral skills."

"It's not something I've done before."

"Well if you're in Night City for long maybe we can work on that."

He blushes under the cascading water and Jeans grins before jumping out of the shower and drying off.

In the main room she slips her dress back on, enjoying the way it clings to her breasts.

"PA." she subvocalises, "print me up some business cards."

"What do you want on them Jean?"

"Just.... Ms Scarlett and my Mobile number."

The printer in the entertainment suite whirrs and a stream of cards pop into the output hopper. Jean pauses from slipping back into her stockings to gather up the cards, slipping one to 'Mr Smith'.

"Just in case."

'Mr Blonde' emerges from the bathroom to see she's ready to go

"A pleasure doing business with you."

Jean smiles,

"Let's do lunch sometime."

Mr Blonde laughs and Jean unlocks the door and lets herself out.

"How's the bank transfer going?" She asks her PA in the solitude of the staircase.

"Target's known bank accounts have been drained."

"Good. Good! Well, I'm shot. Time to go home."

"That would be tactically poor."

"Why?"

"The stated objective was to rescue Sally, Jenny and Tom. If you return to your home at this time you will leave them exposed."

"But I'm exhausted!"

"Once Target Finn realises his assets are gone I calculate that he will attempt to guard his other assets more strongly. As these 'other assets' are Sally, Tom and Jenny this will increase the difficulty of extracting them."

"Ok. Ok, I get the picture. What do we do?"

"The best option would be to purchase their contracts from the person holding them. From data gathered to date that would be the Animal House, though presumably Target Finn has access to any control cyberwear fitted to the objectives."

"We should be able to pay off the Animal House - but I can't see Finn letting go easily."

"It may be necessary to remove him from the equation."

Outside the hotel Jean flags down a cab and rides down to the Animal House.

Jean surveys the row of red brick houses the cab has delivered her to.

"What do you know about this place?"

"The ownership is registered to a small corporation. Police records indicate the establishment is well run and the staff are all registered. That's all."

"So...... we're going in blind."

The ground floor windows blaze with light and Jean can see that the houses have been knocked together. She pays off the cabbie and walks towards the front door. At the top of the staircase a Bear Exotic stands, guarding the door.

"Welcome to the Animal House." he growls around the huge canine teeth in his modified face. "What's your pleasure?"

Jean draws a deep breath.

"I'd like to see the manager."

The Bear speaks into a wrist communicator and opens the door. Jean finds herself admitted to an opulent reception area. Music plays and Exotics of every stripe mix with the clientele. A scrubbed looking young man in a severe suit comes across the room.

"You wanted to speak to the Manager Ms........?"

"Johnson." the AI murmurs in her ear.

"Call me Ms Johnson. Yes, I did."

The man leads her to an office.

"WARNING Area under surveillance" the AI informs Jean.

"What can the Animal House do for you?"

"It's come to the attention of my Superiors that you are employing the dependants of valued employees. Both of our company and of companies in which we have an interest. We wish to buy their contracts to....... cement employee relations. Whilst it would be possible to arrange the transfer of employment by more direct means, it was felt that a better relationship between our concerns by a negotiated transfer."

Jean watches him absorb the meaning behind the mass of verbiage.

"You've some people we want in order to pressure their parents. We could just take them, but it'll be quieter if you'll just sell them to us."

The man bridles angrily.

"We don't sell our employees against their will!" he says flatly.

"I think they'll be pleased to come with me."

He looks doubtful.

"Which employees?"

"Shady Foxx, Jenny Rabbett, Tom......" Jean is suddenly stumped, she doesn't know Tom's new name.

"Stevens" the AI says loudly in her ear. "Touch the earpiece."

Puzzled, Jean complies.

"Stevens, Mr ......"

"Thyme."

"Tell them Jean's here. I doubt they'll tell you they want to stay."

Mr Thyme walks out of the office and returns with Jenny.

"Jean? What are you doing here?"

"Buying you out, if you tell him you're willing."

"All of us?"

"If the price is right."

Jenny turns to the manager.

"How much?"

"Well.... the surgery was quite expensive Jenny."

"But you've recouped most of that whilst we were working here."

"True, but you're a valued resource."

"I saw at least four rabbits in reception." Jean says.

"But the others are unique."

"But replaceable."

"You can have Ms Rabbett's contract for 10K, Ms Foxx for 20K and Mr Stevens for 40K."

Jean laughs in his face and stands up. She touches her earpiece.

"I'm on my way out." she says to no-one, before turning to Mr Thyme. "For 70K I'd want your entire staff! Been a pleasure meeting you Mr Thyme. We won't meet again."

She turns to Jenny. "See you soon Jenny."

Mr Thyme looks unsure as she walks to the office door.

"I hope you've something we can pull out of the bag that's going to make this bluff stand up!" she subvocalises.

"Jean! Don't go!" Jenny lunges forwards and grabs her arm. "I've friends here! If you come in and take us, they might get hurt!"

"Jenny, I don't want anyone hurt - but one way or another you're leaving this place tonight. If Mr Thyme wants to use control cyberwear to hold you, that's his affair, but it makes a mockery of trying to use the 'protection' excuse. You can't protect someone by using hidden commands in their cyberwear."

The doorhandle unexpectedly turns in Jean's hand and she steps back, letting a figure step through. For an instant Jean is nonplussed. The figure is human, but neither male nor female, and it takes Jean a moment to realise she's looking at the latest Eurostyle to cross the pond to the US.

<Androgyne!>

Jean smiles, "Good Evening."

The Androgyne inclines hir head.

"Thank you Justin. I'll take over now." Like the body, the voice is apparently without gender.

"Bel." Justin looks both displeased and relieved at the same time.

"Jenny. Is it your wish to leave us?"

"Yes Bel."

"Have you any complaints about your treatment here?"

"Oh no. It's been much better than the place we were before."

The Androgyne turns to Jean.

"Are you satisfied Ms Johnson?"

"We've only to agree an equitable price, then you can turn over their medical records along with details of any safeguards installed in their conversions."

"Ms Rabbett's contract is available for 5K, Ms Foxx for 10K and Mr Stevens for 500Eb."

"Why so cheap?"

"Tom's modification is.... unusual - so unusual that we had him checked out for medical complications when we were offered his contract. His skinchange has resulted in some ..... problems, and Mr Finn was less than scrupulous about watching for this. As a result Mr Stevens needs continuous medication, or a course of tailored nanites to dispose of any cancerous clusters."

"Why haven't you done...."

"Mr Stevens was quite firm about some legal complication that's hanging over him. He refused any treatment that would expose either himself or the two women to risk."

Jean nods slowly, then digs in her bag and extracts her PA.

"If you've a transfer port, we'll make the exchange."

Bel produces a similar unit with a blued metal surface and then hooks the two units together. Jean releases the 15.5K and the AI exchanges it for the contracts and medical files. Jean and Bel inspect their respective displays and then nod in satisfaction.

"Goodbye Jenny," Bel says, "the others will miss you. If you ever want to visit you will be welcome."

Jenny hugs the sexless figure and runs off to gather her possessions.

Bel turns to Jean.

"You will have problems with all of them. They have all been wired for maximum tactile boost and Mr Staggers made sure they were all addicted to sex before they came here."

"Mr Staggers reckoning is approaching."

"Good. Well, I won't detain you any longer - here are the remotes to call them - I'd get your Medtechs to re-code them as Mr Staggers has the frequencies and codes."

"I'll get it done right away."

Justin leads Jean away from the public areas. Inside a bare functional hallway Jenny and Sally are waiting, along with a solid looking stranger.

"Jean? Is it true? Have you bought us out?" Sally asks.

Ignoring the question Jean studies the third figure.

"Tom? Is that you?"

The Tom she'd known is gone. Liquid brown eyes gaze from an elongated equine face. A single pearl white spiral horn projects from his forehead. Pink skin replaced by silvery white horsehair, his head topped with a narrow white mane.

"It's me Jean." he says, his voice much deeper than she remembered. She looks his body over to try and identify his other modifications. His legs and feet have been changed, the whole foot replaced with a hoof, a silvery horse tail spills from the base of his spine. She considers his torso.

"You've been working out!"

"I'm told it's mostly grafted muscle." he says sadly.

"It looks good."

He brightens slightly and Jean continues her inspection.

"My God Tom! What happened to your hands?"

She captures an arm and studies the hooves that have replaced his hands.

"Oh. That."

The hoof flexes somehow and its pearly white bulk breaks into digits.

"They're custom Cyberlimbs. There was some problem with my meat arms after the skinchange. The bones kept breaking, so the chopshop had them off and gave me these instead. It kinda rounds out the mod."

Jean looks at Shady in alarm. This passivity isn't the Tom she remembered. The Fox woman shrugs.

"We'll talk later Jean. Where are you taking us?"

"I'll show you. Let's go." Jean says leading them out of the back door and away from the Animal House.

"I've booked Mr Stevens into Biotechnica's Exotics Facility," the AI murmurs in her ear, "but they'd like instructions on what treatment they should be preparing."

"Tell them to prepare a batch of Nanoids to hunt down cancerous cells. The rest is up to Tom. Oh, and we need to have these remote control codes purged from all three of them."

They emerge onto the darkened alleyway behind the building and spend the next ten minutes walking easily in the direction of Biotechnica, catching up on events and re-living old times. Jean yawns a jaw-breaking yawn in the cool air.

"God I'm tired!" she looks at her watch, "2AM, I've got to be at the office in six hours."

"Perhaps you would be better using a hotel overnight," the AI suggests, "you have no shortage of.. WARNING. Target has left a Taxi outside the front entrance of the Animal House."

"Best path to Biotechnica" Jean snaps, "I don't want to get caught in the open when he finds out."

"Plotting. Turn left at the next corner and run!"

Jean turns and breaks into a run, leaving the three exotics flatfooted.

"Jean? Where are you going?"

"Follow me. Fast!" she shouts.

The three begin to run after her. Tom and Shady catch up quickly thanks to their modified legs, but Jenny begins to lag behind. A couple of minutes sees them at a cab rank. Jean shoves Tom and Sally into a cab and is turning to Jenny when all three of them cry out in pain.

Jenny collapses into a ball of agony 30 metres down the street. Jean takes her PA and slots it into the cab's input slot. The light comes on, indicating destination and payment have been accepted and she shuts the door, letting the AV cab start up and rise into the air, before turning and heading for its destination.

Jean doesn't stand around watching it go, but jogs down the street to the crumpled form.

"Can you move Jenny?"

"I have to go to him," she gasps, "or the pain will get worse."

"PA? Can you do anything?"

"You will have to deactivate the Target's control unit Jean."

"How?"

"Take it off him."

"But I can't fight! I've no weapons and I can't shoot worth a damn!"

"You will have to find a way. I can detect a tracker beacon emanating from Ms Rabbett."

"Where?"

"Sweep me over her body."

Jean does as she's been instructed.

"The tracker is fitted in her Neural Processor. You will have to extract all chips and modules until the transmission ceases."

Jenny is trying to struggle to her feet when Jean pushes her flat to the tarmac and turns her over, pulling her one-piece to the side to expose a chipware socket stuffed with MRAM. Jean fumbles with the chips until her fingers find the lock and the chips are free. One seems much warmer than its fellows and as she pulls it from its socket her AI announces that transmissions have ceased. It doesn't seem to have helped Jenny though, if anything her pain has increased.

"Get her into a cab. Quickly." the AI suggests.

Jean half drags, half carries her friend to the cab rank, but as she's bundling the bunny girl into a cab, a car tuns onto the road and begins to accelerate towards them. Jean slams the door and slots her PA in.

The cab climbs away as the car pulls up. Jean sees Finn climb out and take something out of his pocket. Jenny arches her spine in agony, every muscle suddenly rigid in agony, then the cab climbs over a building and Finn is no longer in sight.

An endless minute later the cab touches down and the door is thrown open by a Medtech.

"This ones in spasm too. Get me the relaxant!"

Jean watches her friend go limp under the drugs effect, then the Medical team ease her from the cab onto a stretcher and carry her away. Jean trails along behind finding Shady and Tom wired to support equipment in a reception area.

A woman in a white suit is waiting with them.

"Ms Johnson?"

"My name's Bond. I need your payment, signature on the surgical release and the documentation giving you authorisation to order these procedures."

Jean scrawls something on the forms and hands over her friend's contracts before using her PA to authorise the payment.

"Good. These seem in order. Can you tell me why your employees are being beamed with the coded commands to trigger....." she gropes for a polite phrase.

".....control cyberwear?" Jean offers. "Because a competitor has obtained these codes illicitly and is trying to destroy my personnel."

The woman nods as if such things were commonplace, but makes no other comment. She gestures at a Medtech and suddenly the area is full of white clad figures, then everyone rushes out propelling the gurneys carrying her friends, leaving Jean alone with the woman.

"How long will it take?"

"The two women should be fit to leave by tonight, unless there are unexpected complications. The man should take longer - we'll have to keep a close eye on his treatment to make sure the nanoids track everything down."

"You may have to guard him." Jean warns, "My competitor can be quite.... aggressive."

"We guard all our patients."

With that reassurance ringing in her ears Jean leaves the clinic, taking another cab to Microtech.

The staff entrance is closed and sealed with a steel shutter. Unable to use her normal access point Jean makes her way around the building to the main entrance. A swipe of her new ID card unlocks the outer door and she's into the reception area. The Night Security look her over and Jean realises she's still wearing the Uniwear and stockings Finn had given her.

"Working late Ms Kelly?"

"Early actually - it wasn't worth making the journey home. My manager gave me permission to check on the mail delivery system."

Her PA goes through its normal scan and the guard makes a note on her system logging Jean into the building, before buzzing her through the security barrier.

Jean proceeds to the mail room and clocks in. She logs onto her machine and checks on the status of the mail trolleys doing their overnight delivery run.

Trolleys three and seven are both showing problems in amongst the cubicles of the 4^th floor, so Jean picks up the over-ride key and heads up the staircase to the fourth floor.

Moving down a corridor she reaches the edge of the work area, to find the area uncharacteristically in darkness, the only illumination coming from two blinking sets of anti-collision lights on the stalled trolleys. Jean threads her way between the rows of engineers cubicles towards the trolleys.

"Encrypted Comms detected!" the AI hisses in her ear. "Warning! Comms fingerprint not recognised!"

"What does that mean?" Jean murmurs.

"Someone is using encrypted comms that do not belong to Microtech."

"Can you listen in?"

"Working."

Reaching the halted trolleys Jean moves to see what is holding Trolley seven. Laid on the floor in front is a body.

Jean gives a little squeak in surprise and horror. Blood and something else - not clearly seen, but lit by the trolleys yellow warning strobe, runs from the broken head of a Microtech Security Guard.

"Decryption complete, commencing live feed."

"PA, there's a dead guard here!"

"Take his radio and his gun and move him out of the way. Let the trolleys move on. Stay low - below the height of the partitions."

Gingerly Jean takes the guards weapon and radio, then moves his legs. Detecting its route is now clear Trolley Seven lurches forwards, followed by Trolley Three.

"The Trolleys are moving!" Jean hears in her earpiece.

"You think they found a way around the stiff?"

"They couldn't have. You sure he's dead?"

"Stop the stupid things! We need them to get the stuff out!"

Jean hears running and Trolley Seven jerks to a standstill.

"What am I supposed to do? Shoot at them?" Jean asks her AI.

"No. I have insufficient data to draw conclusions at this time. The pistol is for your own protection in the event you come under fire."

"I've blocked them with some chairs." the radio crackles.

"Come back here."

Jean cowers in the darkness as the footfalls move away.

"Use your over-ride key to unlock the trolley closest to you." the AI instructs.

Jean unlocks the command pad on Trolley Three.

"Now what?"

"Slave it to follow the trolley in front."

A few keystrokes accomplishes that.

"Now lock the pad and crawl forwards, unlock the keypad on the trolley in front."

Jean crawls forward and unlocks the command pad on Trolley Seven.

"Order it to follow its programmed route and then deliver its payload to your desk. Tell it that it's Master to Trolley Three, then lock the pad and get back."

Jean does as instructed, giving silent thanks that the pads are internally illuminated before locking the pad and moving back towards the stairwell door.

"What now?"

"Use the radio and alert the security force."

"Hello? Security? Can you hear me?"

"Who is this?"

"Jean Kelly from Post Room. There are intruders on the fourth floor and one of your men is dead."

In the background she can hear voices over the airwaves as the guards talk.

"Shapiro's on four."

"All the cameras are clear."

"I'll go have a look - if the girl's jerking our chain......."

"Stay where you are Ms Kelly. There's......"

"Don't just send one man! There are at least two intruders. The lights are out, but they're doing something."

Her earpiece cuts in abruptly.

"Diamond! There's activity on the Microtech Comms net."

"Well! Listen in then dummy! You've got the guard's radio."

"Not me. I've just got the scanner."

"Fidget?"

"All quiet at the lifts, Diamond."

"The guard's radio?"

"Not me. You shot him!"

"Stop arguing. Fidget, go get the guard's radio."

"Yes Massa! I'se a goin!"

"Lay off the chatter!"

A shadow moves from the area of the lifts heading towards her. Jean scrambles down one of the corridors and into a cubicle and the figure moves past her.

"No radio here."the voice says, "And his piece has gone."

Jean freezes. The obvious thing to do would be to search for her - the radio and gun wouldn't walk off on their own, but at that moment down the access corridor the stairwell door opens and a guard calls out.

"Ms Kelly? Jim? Shit! The lights are all out."

The figure by the fallen guard moves quickly back to the corridor and waits, but apparently the guard has decided that if she wasn't lying about the lights, then the rest might be true as well and advertising his position wouldn't be smart.

The radio in Jean's hand whispers.

"Crash Call. Crash Call on four!"

There's a sound of something heavy bouncing off the wall and floor in the corridor followed by a brilliant flash and a 'bang'.

The earpiece hisses with the intruders communications "They're here."

"Hold the stairs. We've got it. Now stick to the plan."

The lift doors open and Jean flinches at the ensuing gunfire. Bits of paper and chipboard fall from the air as bullets rip into the cubicle partitions. Something howls off a nearby metal cabinet and a burst of light nearby leaves Jean feeling dizzy and sick and she curls into a tight ball. Her AI pours a continuous stream of dialogue into her earpiece, but she understands little of it as the gunfire gradually recedes up the stairwell.

Eventually everything is quiet on the 4^th floor. The Security frequencies report the intruders retreating to the roof, then jumping off. Jean sees a flicker of movement outside the windows and Jean realises they must have parachuted from the rooftop.

"Ms Kelly?" a voice calls, "It's security. They've gone"

"Here." Jean calls.

"Where? Oh! There you are!"

A security guard shines a torch on her and Jean scrambles from her refuge beneath the desk.

"You ok?"

"I think so."

"Good."

Jean takes a couple of steps towards the stairs.

"Ah, not that way Ms Kelly."

"Why?"

"Safety precaution. The stairs are subject to an intense electromagnetic field once the alarm is activated. It randomises any magnetic media or electronic storage media in an unshielded container and a container with enough shielding would be too heavy to carry."

"So they got away with nothing?"

"Can't tell yet - we'll have to wait for a Sysop to tell us what they were after."

Jean walks across to the area the intruders were working in. An external drive case is sat on the desktop, its media slot empty.

"Whoa! Don't touch anything Ms Kelly. It's out of bounds until the investigators have been in."

Jean pulls out her PA and makes a notation on its keyboard, letting the optic record the scene.

"My Trolleys!" she exclaims, "Where are my Mail Trolleys?"

"Trolleys?" the guard asks.

"The Mail Trolleys. The intruders blocked them with the guard's body."

"Oh, they've probably just carried on with their rounds."

Jean omits to mention the reprogramming and the second blocking. The guard doesn't seem concerned so Jean returns to her desk in the basement, dropping the dead guard's weapon and radio in her drawer.

"Why did you get me to reprogram the trolleys?"

"Think Jean. You know the answer."

"They needed the trolleys because........ they knew they couldn't carry their data away - it would be erased - so....... so they posted it! They put it onto the trolleys."

"That seems highly probable. The trolleys go to all parts of the building so their stolen data will be mixed in with and concealed by other outgoing mail. The trolleys are shielded to prevent data loss when in the lab areas, so their data should be safe and the company will deliver it to them at its own cost."

The doors open with a 'hiss' and Trolleys Three and Seven manoeuver into their loading bays. The doors open, but instead of empty shelves to load the internal carousels have a full load of mail. The carousels rotate and the mail spills out onto Jean's desk.

Jean sorts through the mass of hardcopy, returned technical periodicals and packages. The technical periodicals are re-distributed according to her list and the hardcopy is redirected. Jean sees the trolleys reprogrammed, reloaded once again and sent on their way. Leaving her to consider the mass of unaccustomed mail - usually the trolleys just dump external mail into the autofranker where the mail is weighed, franked and sorted into sacks for collection. Now it's all sat on her desk.

She sorts out all the letters and packages too small to hold a removable drive, leaving her with a large package addressed to the research lab at Denver and five smaller ones addressed to locations in Night City. All the packages have security seals on them, so just ripping into them is out. She's tempted to let the Denver package go, but a niggle of doubt remains.

"You got anything cunning that'll let us take a peek inside these packages?" Jean asks her AI.

"Can you obtain permission from Security to open the packages?"

"Not without having to answer some embarrassing questions."

"Working. An interesting dilemma - you will have to refer the matter to your supervising officer."

Jean puts the packages to one side and completes the rest of her tasks. Tiredness weighs heavy on her and she naps briefly until another of the trolleys returns to its bay to recharge.

Fighting the fatigue that clogs her thoughts, Jean makes her way to the small kitchen serving the post room and makes herself a drink before returning to her desk.

The banging of doors announces the arrival of her co-workers without any solution having made itself evident and Jean is settling down for the last couple of hours of her shift when the post room door opens and a small crowd of her colleagues come in. The crowd parts and her father makes his way through. Their eyes meet and a shock of recognition passes between them.

Vincent Kelly clears his throat.

"We're here to reward a new employee for using her brain. Something that Microtech has always found praiseworthy. In recognition of her efforts to improve the productivity and capability of our design staff and at the recommendation of both her own manager and the heads of the design group, the Company is pleased to award Jean Kelly 2000 suggestion scheme points."

Her co-workers clap politely, then turn and leave. Her father hangs back until they've gone.

"Well Jean? What scheme is this?"

"I have to do something Daddy. I'm going up the wall in Westbrook. I can't spend my life holding parties, spending my husband's money and trying to seduce the help. I've got a mind and I want to use it!"

Vincent pulls a face.

"Ok. But don't let it get about we're related."

"Thanks Daddy. Could you do something before you go?"

"What?"

"There was a break in last night........" Jean spills the entire story ending up with the six packages on her desk.

Vincent Kelly scratches his head. Jean's concerns are possibly valid and he is in a position to do something about it. Taking her phone he makes some calls.

A Techie arrives from R&D armed with a barcode reader and scans the codes on the security seals.

"Not booked out at R&D." the Techie declares.

"They're our tapes though?" Jean asks.

"Oh sure. They're out of sequence though. The numbers in this batch were allocated to the Joint Ventures team at the Tech Exchange. They wrapped up about a month ago, but they never used these tapes."

"Looks like they just dumped their excess stationary instead of disposing of it properly." Vincent observes,

"What about the address code?" Jean asks.

The Tech swipes the barcodes beneath the addresses.

"Mmmph. They're redirects with a test code for the franker."

"Explain." Vincent snaps.

"The automatic sorting machinery at the mail company will read the barcode in preference to the address labels. The barcode sends these five packages to a box at the main sorting office. Our franking machine will process them then erase the record."

"What about the big one?"

"Oh that's going to the Denver office alright. The barcode will take it to Special Projects. That'd be Doctor Kibu or Doctor Taylor."

"Have we got enough to open them Mr Kelly?" Jean asks.

"Yes. Get security down here."

Security weigh, measure and record the packages, then, under their watchful eyes, Jean cuts the tape and removes the contents - ten carefully packaged removable drives.

"Special Projects you say?" the head of security says. "Looks like they're up to their tricks again. Well spotted Ms Kelly. You'll have a Security Commendation for this!"

When the drives are removed Jean yawns and logs off her terminal.

"I need sleep!"

"You need to consider tactics to deal with the Target Finn." her PA whispers, "it is dangerous to give him freedom of action."

"Suggestions?"

"If you are unwilling to compromise your cover by employing violence directly other might be induced to do it on your behalf."

"How?"

"There are a number of organisations who bear Mr Staggers ill-will. A suitable communication would bring them together."

Jean sighs, remembering the good times. But that Finn is dead and what remains is repugnant to her.

"Do it. Where is he at present?"

"He passed over the Del Coronado Bridge at 0329PST this morning, but hasn't been logged further up I-16. I calculate a high probability that he is lying in wait for you at Westbrook."

"He won't get in there!" Jean snorts.

"I still advise caution."

"I'll keep my eyes open."

Jean catches the Westbrook train and rides home nervously. The black uniformed Arasaka guards at Westbrook station are a welcome sight. Swiping her residents pass Jean slips gratefully into the safety of Westbrook.

The looks the guards give her are unusually direct.

Jean crosses the station concourse to the security window.

"Home with the milk Jean?"

Alicia Nelson is at the window waiting for a clerk

"Daring outfit! Who's the lucky man? Got yourself a new output?"

"Costume party!" Jean temporises, but the expression on Alicia's face shouts her disbelief.

"Going out today?"

"Going to bed Alicia. I'm wasted."

The window opens and Jean is spared more questions as Alicia orders a replacement pass before she heads to town.

"Yes Ms Brady?" the Clerk smiles.

"I'd like three unescorted visitors passes please."

"Could I have these forms filled out?" the clerk asks, pushing a wad of forms at her.

"Of course."

Jean pulls out the contact details for the Biotechnica clinic.

"Contact this facility. They'll provide the necessary information."

"The passes will be delivered as soon as they furnish the information. Lunchtime early enough?"

Jean relaxes into a soothing bath and lets the warm water soak away her aches. It's been a busy 36 hours. Two shifts at work, a shootout, an orgy, a session of severe fast talking and three rescues.

Jean steps glistening from the water, letting the oils sink into her skin, refreshing her. Before she moves to her bedroom.

"I need to sleep." she yawns.

"Rest now." her PA says from its recharge stand. "You've had a busy day."

Outside the outer guard post at Westbrook Finn is watching. Westbrook security has a reputation for extreme measures, so he's left his car parked well back. Whilst he watches the guards patrolling he thinks on his reception at the Animal House and grinds his teeth.

As usual he'd been conducted to the plain office but, instead of dealing with that corporate Wannabe Thyme he'd been faced by that dickless weirdo Bel and the three Bears.

Bel had smiled politely, a smile that never reached its eyes.

"Mr Staggers. Good of you to drop in. Now we can conclude our business. Your contracted employees have paid off their indebtedness and been discharged from their contracts. Here's the balance of your Agent's fee."

He'd counted the cash, mentally calculating how much he should have and coming up with a sizable shortfall.

"Hold up, you can't do this, they're contracted to me!

"No, your contract was as their agent. We've deducted the medical expenses we were forced to pay out due to your misrepresentation of their status and the chop shop job conversion you got Mr Stevens. I think that concludes our business. Giselle and Bruin will see you to the door. Good-bye Mr Staggers."

Two of the bears had picked him up and ejected him. Swearing and threatening them that 'they hadn't heard the last of this' had only made them throw him, rather than just push him, out of the door.

Once he'd recovered his breath lying on the sidewalk he'd resolved to recover his assets. He'd mashed the call button on the remote, with the pain level turned right up to punish his disobedient property, then triggered the locator beacons. Two of the signals were moving rapidly - so rapidly they'd have to be in an aircraft, but the last, Jenny's beacon, was nearly stationary, a couple of blocks away.

He'd limped to his car and raced there, but even as he'd approached Jenny's location he'd seen Jean bundling a hunched form into an AV cab before taking off and escaping him.

<Treacherous Bitch! Let's see what you do when I show your precious husband what you do in the evening!> he'd thought.

He'd tried to track his three money spinners, but wherever they were was beyond the trackers ability to detect. There'd been a brief indication of Sally's direction, then nothing.

Worse had been waiting at his hideaway. His system had been hacked and stripped - none of his blackmail material remained on the machine. He'd slotted a backup of his session with Jean, but the machine had clicked and whirred, then informed him that the storage chip was blank.

"How did that...?" he'd started, then a horrible suspicion had occurred to him. Was his machine infected? Had he just deleted his backup of Jean's indiscretion by checking it? What else was damaged?

A favour called in got his machine checked out. Sure enough there was something lurking inside - a clever program that self destructed taking his whole machine with it when the runner got too close.

The runner had shrugged.

"Can't tell you much Gato. It was waiting and using your phone connection to export data - probably copied everything you had in memory. I'd guess it deleted your backup storage as well, but there's no way I'm going to put that in my system - there's no telling what's on there now!"

"Who planted it?"

"Looks military to me. You left on open line?"

"I was gathering data."

"That's where it got in."

"Can I recover my data?"

"Find out who's got it. The other option might be a data recovery service, but you're talking money and they'll see everything you've got."

"Not an option, can't you do it?"

"Not got the hardware."

"You know anyone who does?"

"The Redemption Man, but you'll pay big time for his services."

Finn had talked, at lengthy, with the Redemption Man and had made another unpleasant discovery when the topic of pay had come up. Somehow all his accounts had been drained and all he had was the cash from the Animal House. The Redemption man had poked about a bit then come back.

"Zurich Holdings took your cash Man!"

"Who?"

"Zurich Holdings, It's one of the covers the Turing Institute uses to fund its operatives in the field."

"Can you get it out?"

"You want me to poke around inside Turing? Heavy shit man! No way! You can kiss that dough good-bye!"

Taking the car he'd headed for Westbrook to confront Jean, but Westbrook security had turned him away and now he was trying to work out how to circumvent the guards and make his way to Jean's house.

Protracted observation had given him no clues on how to get in.

A muted explosion draws his attention to the road behind him and he retreats hurriedly to his car.

An Arasaka patrol are dousing a small fire inside the passenger compartment through a shattered window.

"What's going on?" Finn demands.

"Is this your car Sir?"

Finn moves around the car to find the drivers door buckled where a shaped charge has taken out the lock mechanism.

"What have you done?!"

"Opened an illegally parked vehicle to ensure it didn't contain a car bomb."

"You can't do that! I'm not in your jurisdiction!"

"You're inside Westbrook from the moment you leave the Freeway and you abandoned your car without notifying Westbrook Security. Now, move along."

The way the security team are casually pointing weapons at him dissuades Finn from arguing further. He gets into his car and starts the engine, limping away from Westbrook with the wind blasting through the shattered window and the buckled door restrained from flapping by his trouser belt tied around the door pillar.

"You'll pay for that!" he promises to the view of Westbrook in his rear view mirror.

The Arasaka security team return to their gatehouse and log the incident.

"Hey, Chief! That guy's on the 'watch' list."

"Why?"

"Anti-Corporate activities."

"What sort?"

"Says he's tied to the Nihilists - Bay Area Regional Terror."

"Better make a note of that. They've never tried anything here. Wouldn't want to get caught flat-footed. I'll run it past the boss - he might want to raise the security state."

Jean wakes in late afternoon. A quick buzz on the intercom for a late breakfast summons Belton with a hot drink and the news that her personal trainer will be here shortly. However instead of her dance fitness trainer there's a stylishly dressed Frenchwoman.

"Who are you?"

"Danielle LeBlanc. Your Savate instructor?"

"Ah." Jean suspects her AI's electronic hand at work, so says nothing more.

"First I need to assess your level of fitness."

The instructor works Jean for thirty minutes, taking her pulse at regular intervals and varying the drills to assess her range of movement before beginning some training drills.

An hour of kicks and punches later Jean is dismissed to the showers.

"Tomorrow Morning. Early" Jean is directed and when she returns from the shower Ms LeBlanc is gone.

Belton produces a light meal and three passes, fresh from security, for Tom, Sally and Jenny and Jean rings into Microtech to check she can work overnight again, allowing her to collect her friends from Biotechnica in the morning, then there's just enough time to change and dash for the Westbrook Transit station.

The train arrives and the incoming Passengers disembark. Jean watches the queue at the turnstiles build up. Security seem to be performing more rigorous checks than usual on the homecoming residents. Then she boards the empty train and lets it carry her to Night City.

By the time she reaches Microtech the staff entrance is secured, so she uses her pass in through the front entrance, then descends to her workplace in the basement. Along with her evenings task list is an e-mail addressed to her personally.

Dear Ms Kelly,

Just a quick 'Thank-you' for the inspiration you provided. I'd like to offer you a more tangible reward, so if you're free some evening soon would you care to go out and eat at my expense?

Regards,

D Donnelly

Jean mails an acceptance back and gets stuck into her work list. She's just thinking about taking a break for a coffee when the door opens behind her admitting a 'suit' about her own age.

"I'm looking for Ms Kelly?"

"You are...?"

"Oh - er, Donnelly, Declan Donnelly. I see she's read my mail, so..."

<Not bad looking> Jean thinks,

"Jean Kelly. Pleased to help." she says, offering her hand.

He takes her hand and shakes it. "I was expecting someone older." he pauses and blushes interestingly.

<Damn! Foot in mouth. She's a bit of a Babe. Wonder if she's available.>

Jean decides to ignore the slip of the tongue

"I was just going for my break. Would you like a cup of rest room coffee?"

"Well. Ok." he replied, dubiously.

As they walk down the corridor Jean notices the bare concrete wall. Strangely she finds she's considering licking it.

<The tablets!> she remembers.

"'scuse. I just need to mmph.."

Jean dashes back to her desk. Two pills spill onto her hand and she gulps them down dry, gagging, but getting them down before going back.

"Sorry, had to take some meds." she explains to the bemused Donnelly, "I can offer you the passable Café Rico or the late shift staple Café Noir. I'd pass on that if you're on heart medication - its got enough caffeine to raise the dead!"

Declan laughs. "We've a similar brand in the researchers rest area - it's got the same consistency as hot treacle."

Fifteen minutes later Jean's back at her desk, her important questions answered. He's single, available and funny.

The rest of the night shift passes without incident. A slight re-arrangement of the trolleys routes due to some cubicle shuffling on the sixth floor is the only highlight and by 0300 Jean has clocked off and is heading for Biotechnica.

In the cool darkness of their suite, Sally, Tom and Jenny lie restlessly. Tom wracked with bone-deep pain, dulled with regular doses of painkillers. Sally and Jenny disturbed by the demands of their modified bodies.

"Sal? You think it's working?" Tom asks for the hundredth time.

"They said it would hurt as the Nanoids destroyed your cancers and rebuilt the bones."

"What do you think Jean's going to do with us?"

"I don't know. The old Jean might have bought us to save us, but that Jean didn't have the cash or the Balls to face down Bel. I'm not sure what this Jean will do."

The drip machine hooked to Tom buzzes, summoning a nurse, who changes a plasma bag and turns Tom to a new position.

"Is it working?" Tom asks anxiously.

The nurse lifts a catheter bag and studies its contents, glowing flourescent orange.

"Looking good Mr Stevens." he says, "the nanites are tracking the defective cells. Invading and destroying them, then they're flushing them from your body."

"Why the orange colour?" Sally asks.

"It's a diagnostic aid for us. The nanites tag the destroyed cells with a marker so we can see Mr Stevens is eliminating them."

"When will I be able to get up?" Tom asks.

"Hopefully the colour will fade over the next few hours. Then the reconstructors will do their job of reinforcing your bones, leaving a framework for healthy bone cells to populate. Dependant on the amount of work they have to do you could walk out of here tomorrow at the earliest."

Tom smiles wanly.

"Thanks. Could I have some more painkillers?"

"Not for another 50 minutes I'm afraid - don't want to ruin our reputation by getting you hooked on painkillers!"

Tom pulls a face, but the nurse is immune to his charms and moves on to the next patient.

"So who's Jean working for?" Sally asks.

"I don't know, but she was using a snazzy comlink to talk with them. And she told Thyme where to get off - either he cut a deal or Jean's company would come and take us. Bel thought it was serious enough to take over the negotiations, but I think hir would have fought to protect us if we hadn't wanted to leave."

"But did we make the right decision?" Sally agonises, "Is she rescuing us or have we jumped from the frying pan into the fire?"

"She's paid for my treatment."

"But why? And how?"

"And what are we going now? We still have these bodies and if I don't get laid soon I'll go mad!" Jenny adds.

"And I thought it was only men who were supposed to have one track minds!" Tom laughs. The laugh turns to a deep, wet, hacking cough and he spits out a glowing lump of orange phlegm.

They all stare at the glowing blob.

"Nurse! NURSE!"

Jean negotiates the security at the entrance to the clinic and goes to the reception desk. The receptionist directs her to her friends room, but Tom's not there.

"They said the hunter nanites had located a secondary cluster on his lung." Sally tells Jean, "He coughed up this huge orange..... mess and they took him away."

"How are you?"

"We're fine," Jenny interrupts, "what are you going to do with us?"

"Do with you? I'm going to take you home. But first I've got to find out how Tom is."

The Medtech at the treatment room is practically ecstatic.

"Oh yes Ms Johnson. Excellent news. The nanoids are sweeping his system clean of every cluster of defective cells. He might have a blip in his respiratory function for a while, but we've added a batch of specialist nano to repair his lung. He'll be as good as new before long."

"When can he leave?"

"We'd like to keep him for a week in dependant care. You could take him earlier, but there might be complications."

Jean nods once then, once the Medtech has gone addresses her PA.

"Have we got sufficient funds?"

"Current funding is marginal. Obtaining additional resources would be advisable."

"Credit card?"

"Will cover the immediate shortfall provided you avoid additional expenditure."

"Pay them for a weeks dependant level care and we'll worry later."

Jean and the girls traverse the railway station security and board the Westbrook train. They travel in silence, with both Sally and Jenny exchanging glances.

"Where do you live Jean?" Sally asks.

"Westbrook. Oh. Didn't I tell you?"

She digs in her bag and produces their visitors passes.

"You'll need these. Don't loose them."

The girls let themselves be swept along, enduring the curiosity of the other passengers and the stares of Westbrook security.

Finally Jean reaches her home.

"Belton, can you make up the guest rooms. I've a couple of friends staying."

Phlegmatic as usual, Belton leads the two exotics on a tour of the house, whilst Jean prepares to sleep.

"Can you show me John?" Jean asks her PA.

"Of course."

The monitor flickers as views of anonymous corridors and rooms flicker by, too fast to really see.

"Mr Brady is currently on O'Niell three" the AI announces. The images flash by, until they stabilise in an apartment. The walls are covered in books and artwork, but the floors are covered with futons and cushions.

It takes a while to work out what's going on. Jean initially takes the tangle of bodies to be the scene of an accident, but the realisation that most of the bodies are naked, or nearly so, brings clarity.

"Isolate John Brady and the woman he was with previously."

The screen flickers and two figures are haloed with light.

The thought amuses her bearing in mind the things she's already done.

<There's a difference between choosing to do something and being coerced.>

She skims through the images of John's antics that her AI has secured on the house system, then through the collection of images of her own activities, lifted from Finn's machine.

Finally she shuts and secures the files and heads for her bed. As she climbs the stairs she meets Belton and the girls coming down.

"Remember your Savate instructor will be here shortly Ms Brady." Belton points out.

"Oh damn! I'm so tired."

Her PA speaks in her ear.

"Attackers won't wait for you to be rested Jean. You will do your training today and every day. No excuses."

"Tartar!" Jean murmurs.

The AI affects not to have heard as she descends the stairs once more.

At Microtech the security team from Head Office is going over the incident with a fine tooth comb.

"So. Shapiro was killed on four and his body used to immobilise the mail trolleys?"

"Sir!"

"Why did no-one notice?"

"Shapiro wasn't due to make a check call until he'd reached the roof."

The investigator makes a note.

"Why did it take a call from a clerical worker to raise the alarm?"

"The TV Monitors showed nothing!" the Guard Captain protests, "She only found out because her trolleys faulted."

"And why weren't security monitoring Trolley activity? Those things are on constant patrol."

"We can't monitor everything."

"That's obvious. You can't even monitor the welfare of your own men!" the investigator pauses and changes tack, "Speaking of which - where's Shapiro's radio and sidearm?"

"The intruders must have taken them."

"Then how did this clerical worker call you in?"

"Ah!"

"Perhaps a search?" the investigator gently suggests.

A few minutes later and the investigator is holding the missing items.

"A closer look as Ms Kelly would be wise I think." he muses, then goes to report this new development to his Team Leader.

"Interesting." she drawls, "You think she's connected to the intruders?"

"Unlikely. The only reason security here woke up is because she told them we had intruders on site."

"You think the intrusion was a blind and she's been planted to blacken the Denver lab?"

"Possible. In which case our clerical worker is more than she appears."

"I think that's the case anyway. Put her under a microscope. I want a full work up on Ms Kelly."

As Jean sleeps Microtech security are going over her with a fine toothcomb. It doesn't take much work to link Jean Kelly with Jean Brady and thus with her husband John and her father Vincent. Before she wakes they know alla bout her University Peer Group, that she has two exotic house guests, that she's paying the medical bills for a third and they have rumours of her relationship with Finn.

Jean spends her next shift under discreet human surveillance. They note her activities and her careful use of a Pocket Assistant. Her refreshment breaks are monitored, her phone and computer tapped.

"Nothing suspicious beyond what we already know." the team leader says. "What about a medical?"

"She's due a recruitment medical. We could scale it up a bit - do a full scan?"

"Ok. At day-end we send her to the doc."

Jean is getting ready to go home at midnight, looking forward to a few days off, when her terminal announces the arrival of an e-mail. She opens the message to find that she's expected at the Company Doctors for a medical exam.

Making her way to the infirmary she finds the doctor and two strapping orderlies waiting. The doctor checks her over, taking blood samples and swabs, analysing her breath and her urine. She's provided with an exercise suit and made to do step ups until her heart is pounding, then her heart and lungs are checked out.

"Ok - dress now." the doctor orders. "If we need to see you again we'll call you."

Jean clocks out and walks to Biotechnica to visit Tom, finding him depressed in his loneliness, but otherwise healing. The doctors seem pleased.

"The nanites are doing a splendid job. Mr Steven's lungs are all clear and we're pretty sure that they've killed another cluster in his liver. You should be able to take him home in a couple of days."

Relieved Jean makes her way to the station and swipes in to the Westbrook platform. As she stands waiting her PA suddenly chirps in.

"Jean. Move to the nearest pillar and place your back against it. My search routine has detected Target Finn in the station."

"Hello Jean."

The deep and mellow voice jerks something inside Jean. <Subsonics!> she thinks.

Her earpiece begins to buzz gently, blurring sound around her. She looks to the side to find Finn stood there.

"Come with me Jean. You can sleep at my place."

With the earpiece blunting his forked tongue Jean can avoid the persuasive effect of the subsonics. The idea might seem attractive, if she was ignorant of the Darkness lurking under his exotic exterior.

"Sorry. Not interested." she says, thankful for the breeze in the station which dispels any pheromones.

"Return my....... Give me Sally, Jenny and Tom back." he tries. "You don't know how to look after them."

"Better than you Finn! You're a real Piece of Work you know. Conning your friends into whoring for you. You make me sick!"

The anger burns off any lingering affection from their history and Jean sails into him.

"You'd have let Tom rot from the insides out, wouldn't you? Take every penny he earned until he dropped to service some mythical debt. I think I know how to look after him better than you!"

Finn's taken aback. With the Mod's he's got fitted and the pheromone he's wearing she should be putty in his hands. He reaches out to stroke her face and put hands anointed with perfume close to her nose.

Ms LeBlanc's training has started some reflexes for Jean and one is to avoid having things thrust at her face. Before she thinks her fist is moving, punching his arm aside. The other fist drives into his gut and she follows up with a close in kick to drop him onto the platform and finish the job.

"A few days training doesn't make you an expert!" her AI warns, "Back off and call security."

Jean runs a couple of steps and mashes the alarm button mounted on an adjacent pillar. Its raucous buzz snaps Finn's head up and the clatter of running feet sets him off running, smashing out through an emergency exit to loose himself among people disembarking from other trains.

"Are you alright Lady?" a helmeted Transport Authority Officer asks.

"Yes Officer. Thanks for the rapid response."

"Just doing our job."

They secure the emergency exit and then withdraw leaving Jean and her fellow passengers to board the train home.

Finn limps through the streets cradling his bruised jewels.

<She attacked me! The Bitch attacked me! She'll pay for that.> he fumes, amazed that such a thing could happen. He limps back to his den planning his revenge. The sight of his car with its door twisted out of shape does nothing to cool his anger, nor does the sight of a couple of kids sleeping in the back seat.

He's about to start shouting and screaming at them when a muted explosion draws his attention to his home. Dark clad figures move around his front door, pushing the shattered barrier aside and disappearing inside. Finn realises he's watching a Black Ops team raiding his home. Shouting and screaming forgotten he pulls the car door open and drags the kids out. He fires up the engine and screeches away, still throwing plastic bags of unidentified possessions out of the flapping door. An unintentionally close pass by a lamp post removes the problem of not being able to lock the door and Finn is out of sight before the Black Ops team emerges to find a car door laid in the street.

<Who were they?> he wonders, <More important. Who told them where I live?>

Luckily they don't seem to know of his alternate shelter, so he parks his battered car in his garage and reviews what he knows.

"She was heading for Westbrook, so she must be living there still. Probably she's got the girls with her. She said she was looking after Tom so she had to have him in a clinic."

Inside the outwardly derelict building Finn makes calls to his contacts and begins a search for Tom before calling his Cell Leader at BART.

"Sheridan? It's Finster. Go secure."

The phones buzz and click as they synchronise their encryption.

"Dude. What can I do forya?"

"Just wondering if anyone had ever thought of doing an Exit in Westbrook?"

"Big style?"

"Mmm."

"There might be some plans somewhere. I'll get back to ya."

"What about doing Zurich Holdings?"

"What's it Pay?"

"Pay? You want paying to hit the Establishment?"

"Dude, Westbrook is a political statement. We'll lose people, but the membership would understand for the publicity. We hit Turing and we lose - big time - so it's got to be worth it . We could do their local office - but why bother? Kill two or three of Turing's incorruptables, but to what end? Hit Westbrook and we strike a blow against the Corporations that steal everything from our members. The going rate for a big hit like this is half a Mil. You got it..........? I didn't think so! Forget Turing, the Westbrook hit will take all your time."

He breaks crypto lock and disconnects.

Finn finally falls into a restless sleep planning what he'll do when he regains control of Tom, and the girls. <and Jean! I'll have to do something special for her......>