He reached the alley that led to the club. He was surprised but pleased to see that one of the three bikes parked against the wall was Dodger's Rapier.

Penum- bra was no place for animals, so he looked around for Inu to tell him to wait. The dog was scampering across Yesler Way, off to find his own entertainment. He'd be back eventually, as always. Sam had met Inu on the streets and had no worries that the dog would be all right.

Though twilight was still gathering among the rain- laden clouds outside, night had already fallen in Club Penumbra. The gloom was deeper than usual, since the wall-sized tridscreen was dark. Sam picked his way through the entryway mostly by following the soundof Big Tom, the Club's resident sound engineer and backup musician, practicing his drumbeats. As Sam cleared the arch and entered the main floor, Big Tom deflated his throat pouch and hooted the dual tone he used for greetings. Sam did his best to return the sas- 37.

quatch's sound. Big Tom grinned his lopsided grin which only showed the fangs on the left side of his face. Sam was never sure if the furry metahuman was smiling with pleasure or amusement at Sam's attempts to greet him in kind.

Big Tom took up his practice again as Sam crossed the floor. His was the only music in the place, but it was a weeknight and still early. The Penumbra wouldn't start rocking for another couple of hours.

There were a few patrons scattered about at the free- standing tables and in the alcoves along the back wall.

That was fine. There were enough people to keep things friendly but not enough to crowd sensitive dis- cussions. The club's regulars minded their own biz.Jim at the bar inclined his head, and Sam altered his path in the direction indicated. The sole occupied booth in that corner had a black booted foot thrust from its recesses. The stud pattern on the footwear's straps and the faint gleam of a white shag of hair ad- vertised Dodger's presence.

Sam kicked the sole of the boot, saying, "Hoi, Dodger. You're early. Are you feeling all right?"

"In truth I was. Until you wounded me with your remark, Sir Twist." Dodger cocked his head to look up at Sam, causing sparkles of light to flash from the three jacks on his depilated left temple. To anyone who didn't know the elf, the computer interface ports would seem incongruous next to his pointed ears, but Sam knew they were as integral to who Dodger was as his slim elven bones.

"You'll heal. Get anything on Mr. Johnson? Like maybe why things got screwed up last night?"

"Some data has fallen into my hands but, as to yes- terday's difficulties, I can do no more thanspeculate."

"Well if you've got any data, you're ahead of me."

Sam slid onto the bench next to Dodger. The elf

38.

Robert N. Charrette pushed a minicomp across, allowing Sam to scroll through while he gave a summation.

"As you can see, Mr. Johnson is Andrew Glover of ATT. For someone with his background and standing in the corporation, this shadow work is a bit out of line. The bodyguard is Harry Burke, pro muscle from the European circuit. Very expensive."

"Hmm. Think our Mr. Johnson is moonlighting?"

"Possibly. He might have legitimate ATT business in Seattle, since he arrived direct from headquarters in London on his corporate passport. I'll need more time to check that out."

"So he might be legit or he might not."

"Time is data, and I had very little time."Sam spotted something and froze the scroll.

"Saeder-Krupp," he said softly. He shuddered, re- membering his dealings with the dragon who owned that megacorporation.

"Interesting, is it not?"

"I'd hate to think that this has some connection to Lofwyr. I've dealt with more than enough dragons."

Dodger nodded agreement. Sam returned to scroll- ing through the data that the elf had collected, but his mind wasn't really focused. The reflections on the screen seemed to echo the glints of a dragon's eye, and he kept drifting back to thoughts of Lofwyr.

Sally had robbed the dragon of his prize, and Sam had no idea how Lofwyr had taken that. When Sam had tried to use the telecom numbers he had been given to con- tact the dragon or his agents, he had found them all disconnected. He had assumed that meant that the dragon was calling it quits, finding revenge as expen- sive a luxury as Renraku appeared to believe it was.

Now there was this connection, tenuous but real.

Was he already enmeshed in the coils of another of the dragon's plots? Had Lofwyr only been biding his time?Waiting for the opportunity to strike?

39.

Sam felt an elbow in his ribs as Dodger said, " 'Twould seem that everyone is running ahead of schedule tonight."

Following Dodger's eye line, Sam saw Andrew I Glover crossing the dance floor to the bar. The ATT.

an was of middling height, narrow-shouldered, and slim. His long, slightly horsey face was relaxed, suf- fused with the calm of a man assured of his proper place in the world. From his clothes, that place was a comfortable one. His shiny black shoes and grey gloves were spotless, showing no signs of wear. The rest was hidden under a long, caped coat of natural tweed.

De- spite its expensive material, it would be lined with ballistic cloth. The wealthy took as few chances as possible. Dark spots marred the perfect tones of the coat's shoulders. He slid a hand through his sandy hair, flicking away the water in a casual gesture. His walkwas casual, too, as if he was striding through some ancestral manor.

Surveying the club with what appeared to be simple curiosity, Burke followed Glover in. The bodyguard moved with a predator's gait, smooth and calm but ready to explode into instant action. Penumbra's pro- tection would not allow Sam to make a successful as- tral check, but you didn't need to be a magician to know that Burke had some kind of edge over ordinary people. Dodger had said the man's services were ex- pensive. Since there was no reason to expect Dodger to have gotten bad information, Burke was likely very good at his job. That meant cyberware or magic; sim- ple skills and knowledge weren't enough anymore.

The barkeep directed Glover to their booth. As soon as he saw that it was occupied, Glover put on his cor- porate smile. He removed his long coat and handed it to Burke who slung it over his arm. The guard seemed to find its weight far less than Glover had. Burke stayed back, letting his charge approach the booth alone.---------------------------------------------------------------

40.

Robert N. Charrette Glover seated himself on the empty bench, but before he could speak, he was jostled by a new arrival.

Sam hadn't seen where Jason had been hiding. He hadn't even known Jason was in the club until he ma- terialized at the edge of the booth. Maybe the kid had learned something from Ghost. In any case, there had been no time to warn Glover that he was about to have company.

Jason pushed his shoulder against Glover. The roughness of Jason's dermal armor implant snagged the corporate's silk jacket, tugging strands free.

Jason placed an Ares predator on the table, the gun's huge barrel pointing in Glover's direction. Jason removedhis hand from the butt and rested his palm on the ta- ble.

The ATT man reacted well. He expressed only sur- prise at the Indian's sudden appearance. A quirk at the corner of his mouth hinted at annoyance. Other than that, there was no sign that he was bothered by Jason's typically over-stated threat. Sam was impressed, and warned, by Glover's cool. Some corporates would have started yelling murder at such an unexpected appear- ance. Glover merely slid over to make room for the broad-shouldered Indian and brushed at the shoulder of his jacket. A negligent wiggling of his fingers sent silk fibers drifting to the table top.

Sam would have expected Burke to intercept Jason.

Curious, he looked over and saw the bodyguard stand- ing side-by-side with Fishface. It was unlikely that the professional guard had been intimidated by Fishface's ragged presence. Burke's failure to interfere wasmore likely directly related to Glover's lack of alarm.

Glover cleared his throat. "This is a bit irregular."

"So was the run, chummer," Jason said. "You ain't got problems so long as you play clean, Johnson.

We got your warm body for you and want our nuyen."

Glover stared at Jason for a moment, then turned his .

41.

head to look at Sam. "Am I dealing with a new prin- cipal?"

"No, you're not," Sam replied firmly. "But he is right. The situation was not as you led us to believe.

I would like an explanation."

"I just want the creds," Jason said.

The look Glover gave him spoke volumes about the trials of dealing with the lower classes. With slow de- liberation to show that he was not reaching for a weapon, Glover slid his hand into his jacket and re- moved a credstick. It was unmarked by bank seals or the banding of a certified stick. "There is no intentto defraud you. I believe that this will cover the remain- der of the agreed-upon sum."

For all his obvious greed, Jason didn't snatch it up when Glover placed it in the center of the table. In- stead, Jason poked it with his gun, rolling it toward Dodger. Peremptorily, he ordered, "Check it out, elf."

Dodger plucked the stick from the table without a word. He recovered the minicomp and slotted the credstick. His fingers danced on the key membrane.

After several flurries, he looked up at Glover. "Pray tell, Goodman Johnson. Why are the funds locked?"

"What!" Jason's eyes narrowed.

Sam tried to forestall any further reaction by asking, "Is there an explanation you'd care to offer, Mr.

John- son?"

Glover ignored the agitated man at his side, focus- ing his attention only on Sam. "I believe that I have a question of my own which must be answered before we proceed. Where is Mr. Sanchez?"

The man was so damn sure of himself."Being delivered as we agreed."

Glover's face remained deadpan. "I am quite sure that you understand. I must have that confirmed before I authorize the transfer of funds.''

42.

Robert N. Charrette Hoping that he had called it right, Sam tried to keep his own voice calm and assured. He hoped he hid his growing trepidation. Corporates away from their safe turf didn't stay so unruffled unless they had hidden assets.

"Then we wait." Jason looked like he was ready to do something else, so Sam said, "Got that, Jason?

We give the man a chance."

Jason's sullen glower was his answer.They sat in stony silence for some minutes until Glover's wrist beeped. He slid back his pristine cuff to reveal a multi-function watch. Tapping in two code sequences, he waited for a response. He seemed sat- isfied when it came. He tapped in another longer se- quence.

"Right. That's it, then, gentlemen. You will find the complete fee available to you now, as well as a sub- stantial bonus in recognition of the alacrity of your performance. I would like to say it has been a com- plete pleasure doing business with you.'' Glover started to rise. He made no gesture but it was clear that he expected Jason to get out of his way. "I am a very busy man and I must be getting along."

"Just make yourself comfortable, Mr. Johnson,"

Sam told him. He was pleased that his voice remained steady. There had been no sign from Jim at the bar that anything was out of place, but that was no guar- antee that nothing was wrong. Especially if Glover was an agent of Lofwyr. "You're here until Otter calls in."

Glover drew in a long breath and pursed his lips.

He reseated himself stiffly. "I see.""No need to be put out, Goodman Johnson. 'Tis a simple bit of business assurance. I'm sure you under- stand."

Glover returned Dodger's smile with a stiff mask, but his detachment was evaporating. The corporate's 43.

annoyance was starting to grow. In the middle of the room, Burke was tensed. Sam wanted to defuse the situation before someone did something that they'd all regret. But how?

Forcing a smile that he really didn't feel, Sam called for a round of drinks.

"There's no reason to be concerned, Mr. Johnson.

This is simply a business formality. We can still com- plete this deal without impediments."

"Let us hope so, Mr. Twist."

"I have confidence. However, my friends might feel more confident of our good will if you were to answer my earlier question. They would be relieved if youwere to offer some reasonable explanation for the screw- up."

Glover shrugged away the importance of the matter with the merest shift of his shoulders.

"It was a simple communications slipup. Mr. San- chez never received the word that his extraction was to take place. That same glitch deprived him of your descriptions. He would have had no idea that you and your friends were my agents."

"That's it?"

"That is, as you say, it. I accept full responsibility for the confusion."

It would be impolitic to dispute Glover's answer. It was possible that he told the truth. Just barely. Sam tried another approach.

"I realize that you need not tell us, but what will happen to Sanchez from this point?"