Justin looked up and saw the both of them. "Let's give Hektor a taste of his own medicine, shall we?" Neela couldn't help but notice that for the first time in a long time, Justin's eyes seemed as bright as his smile.

Hektor was enjoying his newfound power. He was once more on special assignment to the board, but this time he had an office at GCI system headquarters on the floor with all the executive vice presidents. And while he wasn't an E.V.P. himself, his presence on their floor was meant to send a clear message-screw up this badly again and the "new" guy-the guy who warned you all-the guy you all chose not not to listen to-gets your job, office, and perks. to listen to-gets your job, office, and perks.

He even had a secretary, though he didn't particularly like or trust the man. Hektor was willing to bet Chairman stock to cow shit that his secretary really worked for the V.P. of Special Ops, Kirk Olmstead. But, thought Hektor, pleased, Kirk had enough to worry about. The new director's "go to trial" strategy was not only proven wrong, it was proven disastrously, publicly wrong. The trial was followed by the worst market day that GCI had ever seen. Though, due to the inherent strength of the company, it had soon recovered 85 percent of what it had lost, it was still not fully healed. The effects would be felt systemwide in the bond, stock, and currency markets for years. Although he was still officially head of Special Operations, it was understood that the DepDir's job was now open. If Kirk couldn't fix the current mess, it would go to the first person who could. And Hektor had a plan.

"Mom," said Hektor, practically screaming at the holodisplay, "will you please listen to me?"

"You're talking crazy."

The woman, formed in perfect three-dimensional beauty before him, was a platinum blonde in her late twenties. She was wearing a plaid pink and fuchsia dress with a plunging neckline that was long on cleavage and short on class.

Hektor sighed as he went through the "mom" effect-feeling like he was eight though knowing he was older.

"Will you at least consider it?" he asked.

"You want me to suggest that my son-my own son!-get a psycheslam?"

"Mom, it's a psychological audit, please don't use that slang; it makes you sound so ... well, young."

"I've been called a lot of things, dear boy, but to be called 'young,' " she said, almost weeping, "and by my own son ..." When she saw he wasn't taking the bait she began to pout. "Hektor, dearie, what will my friends say? And more important, do you have any idea what it will do to your stock value?"

Hektor sighed. "Mom, did you sell me short?"

"What a horrible thing to ask!" she said, feigning shock. "You're my only son."

Hektor wasn't buying. "Well, did you or didn't you?"

After a pause his mother had the good grace to look ashamed.

"Honey, your stock price was plummeting, and you lost your great job, and then that transfer to the Oort Cloud ..."

"Mom, I understand why. You raised me to be realistic and take chances, so I did. If it were my kid I would have done the same thing. But let me ask you another question, Mom: Did you regret it?"

Her anguished expression was all the answer he needed. He also knew where the pain was emanating from-her portfolio.

After Hektor's court appearance his stock began to rise steadily. Once his new appointment and office had been confirmed, it practically soared. Of course, owning most of it himself he was able to use his increased equity to arrange a much better loan and pay off all his outstanding debts. He could have sold about 9 percent of himself and still have had a comfortable majority, but Hektor believed in his star. And if anyone wanted whatever stock of his was out there, let the bastards pay market price. Hektor was holding on for now, and he even got his Neela Harper stocks out of hock. And that was proving to be an even better investment than the one he had made in himself. As if to confirm his suspicion, his mother seemed on the verge of breaking down.

"Twenty percent!" she moaned. "We had twenty percent! What a neutron your father is!"

Serves you right, Hektor thought. "Mom, please trust me that this psychological audit will not cause a drop in my price but a rise. And And I will give you two hundred shares of my stock." I will give you two hundred shares of my stock."

Her eyes lit up. No sooner had they done so when she gave her son a suspicious look. "What's the catch?"

"One small favor," Hektor said, smiling. "You will go to Justin Cord and offer him one hundred shares of me."

"Don't be silly, boy. A, why would he take them from me?, and b, what on Mars would I tell him?"

"You'll tell him you want revenge."

"For what?"

"I'll leave that to you."

"How could he believe such a thing?"

"Mom, it's me you're talking about. He'll believe it."

"Well, I will have to think about it for a bit. Talk to your father, our broker, you know."

"Don't take too long, Mom, things cha ..."

Hektor was interrupted by his secretary's entrance into the room, an act that indicated there was a visitor of enough importance to interrupt whoever Hektor was talking to.

"Hold on a sec, Ma. Yeah," he said to the secretary, looking slightly annoyed. "What is it?"

"Mr. Sambianco," she answered, "there's a process server here, and she said to tell you 'we'll meet by moonlight.' I told her you were in Colorado, but she insisted."

"I'll be damned," he said, lips parting in a wolfish grin. "Let her in."

"Sir, did I mention she was a process server?"

Hektor's mom cut in. "Hektor, what's going on?"

"One moment, Mom."

Into the room walked the same incredible seductress who'd served Hektor on the loading bay only a few weeks before. This time she had more clothes on, but still managed the same rarely tenable combination of grace, gorgeousness, and age that advertisers killed for.

"Mr. Sambianco."

"Are you here to arrange a date, Miss ...?"

"Snow, and yes, but not the one you think. You are being served to submit for a psychological audit ... by one of your stockholders."

"Let me guess ... Justin Cord?"

The woman nodded in agreement.

Hektor's mouth opened, forming the beginnings of a smile. He looked over at his mother in the holodisplay, still waiting patiently.

"Mom, love ya, deal's off, gotta go." He cut the phone connection before his flabbergasted mother could say a word.

"Now, Miss Snow," he said, turning to the server, "why should I let you just hand me a summons without getting something for it in return?"

Miss Snow stared straight at Hektor with her best bedroom eyes.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking of asking you out on a date."

"My dear Mr. Sambianco, you can ask, but you're still too young."

"How about if I make it worth your while?"

"Confident, aren't you?"

"About many things, but I think you may like this." Hektor smiled.

"Alright, Mr. Sambianco, let's hear your offer."

"The first time you served me it was easy. This time it was even easier, because I let you in. Do you admit that I could have made it difficult?"

"Of course, that's why they pay me the big creds."

"And I'm sure you're worth every one of them, Miss Snow. Now let's think about the third time you'll have to serve me. And I can assure there will be a third, fourth, and fifth time. I know a way it can be as simple as this, and a lot more entertaining."

"I don't know, Mr. Sambianco, I'm finding this pretty entertaining as it is. But I must admit I'm curious. What's your offer?"

"Simple, really. The next time you have to serve me, just call. You can do it on our date. No running, no hiding, no doubles or processing loopholes, just a pleasant dinner."

Miss Snow leaned forward over his desk and, speaking softly, said, "You think you can cause me that much trouble?"

Hektor leaned over until he was inches from her face and said in just as soft a voice, "Absolutely."

She delicately kissed the tip of his nose and stepped back.

"Done, Mr. Sambianco. On one condition."

"If it is within my power to grant."

"I believe it is. I've given a lot of summonses for psyche audits in my time. What I find most interesting is that when I do a follow-up I find that each person has a different way of getting out of taking the P.A. Some are clever, most are straightforward, and some are downright genius. So here's my deal. If I like your answer you have a date."

"Deal," answered Hektor, without missing a beat.

"So then," Miss Snow said, sitting down comfortably in one of Hektor's guest chairs, "how do you intend to escape the P.A.?"

Hektor leaned back in his chair. He then put his hands behind his head, his feet up on the desk, and opened his mouth in cool repose.

"I don't."

"Are you insane?" Legal ranted, pacing in her office.

"Thank you, I feel fine," Hektor answered calmly.

"Maybe you really do need a P.A. And if I keep listening to this load of horseshit I'm going to need one, too."

"Janet, it's perfect," he tried to explain. "If Justin hadn't demanded one of me I probably would have suggested it to him ... on the sly, of course."

"Of course," Janet mimicked. "Hektor, do you realize what a psyche audit is?"

"I assure you, Janet, I do."

"First they'll send nanobots in to crawl all over your neural pathways," she said, choosing to ignore his last comment. "Any minor or major glitch they find, they fix ... on the spot. Now, I don't know about you, but I like me the way I am, warts and all. And the last thing I'd want is to know that my pathways have been smoothed over by an army of unfeeling microbots that I'm gonna end up pissing out in the morning."

Hektor remained unmoved. "Got it."

Janet took another stab. "They say that you're not the same person ... ever."

"Of course not," he answered. "By the time anyone gets a P.A. they really do need an adjustment, so of course they aren't the same person. Who would be? But Janet, I can assure you, I'm not crazy, which is why I'm not afraid to take the P.A."

"But you're letting Justin Justin put you through one? I'm sorry, Hek, but that sounds pretty crazy to me." put you through one? I'm sorry, Hek, but that sounds pretty crazy to me."

"Actually, that's the real reason I'm here. I need your help."

"What for? You're obviously not going to stop it."

"No, I need your help to make it happen as quickly and noiselessly as possible."

Janet stared at him, too dumbfounded to speak.

"Janet," explained Hektor, "I got him good and mad in the courtroom and he lashed out. But when he calms down he'll probably change his mind. I have to have this done before he does."

Janet looked over at the man who'd only weeks before swept in and kept her career from careening down the side of a gully. She'd decided to trust him then, when the stakes were far higher. There was no reason not to trust him now.

"What about Kirk?"

"What about him?"

"He won't let this fly. It'll make him look bad."

"Don't worry about Kirk," he answered. The icy tone of his reply was assurance enough. Then, "Find anything on Harper?"

"You mean her supposed relationship with Cord?"

"Yeah."

"Dead end. If they're having one, which I do not believe they are, they're doing a pretty good job of concealing it. He seems pretty attached to her, but that's not out of the ordinary. She, of course, is behaving perfectly. Technically, she's not even his reanimationist anymore. On top of that, the microfacial analysis is pretty conclusive."

"Keep looking," he said, unmoved by the lack of evidence. "She'll sleep with him, and when she does, we'll need proof."

Janet shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "What's the point, Hektor? If it's Cord you're after, how does destroying Harper help ... unless, of course, you're getting some sort of sick joy out of it?"