At the moment, Kyle knew only the vague direction and distance of Mitchell's location: north, farther man North Avenue, but not as far as Poster. He left Hanna to contact Eagle and to use all the political clout Truman had to get them moving, fast. Kyle suggested a staging area in the vicinity of North and Western. He'd meet them there after retrieving some things still at his hotel.

At the Marriott, the staff was all sweetness and light as he asked for access to his security strongbox. One of the managers led him to the secure area and then went to retrieve the box, but only after Kyle had him repeat the password three times to be sure he got it right. He did, and returned with the box a few minutes later. The man handed it over without a word, though Kyle thought the single bead of sweat running down from his temple statement enough.

Kyle let the box scan his thumb print and retinal pattern before keying in the special code to open the box. About the size of a briefcase, but much deeper, the box had a simple latching lid that lifted completely off. Inside, Kyle found his magical accessories still wrapped in black silk and velvet, exactly as he'd left them.

There were two metal bracelets braided from heavy wires of silver, copper, and the mystical metal orichalcum. Kyle slipped one around each wrist Over the middle and next fingers of his left hand he slid silver rings set with a diamond and sapphire, respectively. On his right hand in like positions he put on silver rings, one set with a ruby and one with an emerald. Around his neck and under his clothing he hung an amulet made of golden-coppery metals and dominated by a large opal. And finally, he placed an ornate silver and orichalcum bladed knife, inlaid with jewels of all kinds and designed in the Egyptian style, into a custom black leather sheath that fit under the arm not girded with his shoulder holster. Feeling overburdened and somewhat foolish, he headed up to his room.

“The hotel assures me that the scrambling on my line is about the best that money can buy," Kyle told Dave Strevich.

“I’m it is," Strevich said. "My system says yours is saying the right things, but that doesn't mean I'm going to answer any questions."

"I’m switching to encryption now." Kyle leaned forward, typing the command into the keyboard. Strevich's image blurred as the man cursed, and it remained distorted and unviewable for a few moments until he put his system into like mode and the two machines had agreed on how to talk to each other. When the image returned, it was no longer three-dimensional and it lacked color fidelity, but Kyle had no doubt that for a short while at least the signal was indecipherable.

"You insist on getting into trouble, don't you?" Strevich said. "Do you have any idea how many alarms your actions in Chicago are setting off?"

"I can imagine," Kyle said. "All things considered."

Strevich's eyes narrowed. "The drek's gonna hit the pavement real soon now. The suits upstairs aren't happy with Knight Errant's activities in Chicago, despite the fact that they're real friendly with Ares Macrotech these days."

"Why not?" Kyle asked innocently. "Knight Errant hasn't done anything wrong."

"Don't play dumb, Kyle."

"I wouldn't have to if you'd given me the scan straight up."

"I couldn't. Still can't, you know that."

"Tell me about the bugs," Kyle said.

Strevich's face hardened. "Jam it, Kyle."

"Tell me about the true forms."

Strevich didn't answer.

"Tell me about the flesh forms."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Dammit, Dave, you're leaving me disconnected here! You've got to tell me something."

"I don't have to do anything of the kind. The problem is being addressed, in our own way. It takes time, but we're handling it."

"Really?" said Kyle, the word coming out a little harsher than he'd intended. "It doesn't look that way from here."

"Walk away, Kyle," Strevich said. "You still can. When the big red, white, and blue scooper comes along to clean up all the drek, it's going to scrape you up too if you're not careful."

"No."

"Walk away. Take Beth and Natalie on a vacation," Strevich told him. "Stop worrying about everything. Watch some simsense."

"You're frizzed."

Strevich spoke in a very deliberate manner, seeming to choose his words very carefully. "I saw an interesting sim the other night. Story was unbelievable, but the effects were wizzer. You'd almost swear it was real."

Kyle eyed him suspiciously. "Do you remember the name?"

"Nah," Strevich said. "I didn't see it from the beginning, but it was by that simsense chica. The one that Bettleman liked when we were all at Quantico for extended weapons training that time. Remember?"

Kyle nodded. It was years ago, but he drought he did.

"Anyway," Strevich went on, "you should sense it. Real wiz. Real hype. I think it was her last one."

"I'll try and find it." Kyle recalled the simsense star Strevich was talking about, a beautiful dark-haired girl named Euphoria. Kyle wasn't a big simsense fan, but he remembered her. He had no idea which sim Strevich was talking about, though. Or why he was going on about it at me moment.

"Good," Strevich told him. "You do that, and I'll talk to you some other time."

Kyle nodded, still suspicious. "Later."

Strevich waved, and then disconnected. Kyle stared at the blank screen a moment, then switched the telecom system over to me hotel's own entertainment library. According to the information he'd seen, it contained thousands of new, hot, and classic simsense programs on demand for immediate viewing. He keyed in the name "Euphoria" and requested a list of her titles in the system. He had a feeling that if Strevich had been trying to tell him something, he'd know as soon as he saw the title. He never quite got the chance to see the list.

"It's called Against the Hive," came a woman's voice behind him.

Kyle threw himself forward violently and then kicked himself sideways beyond an oversized chair and down to the floor behind it. He came up quickly, Ceska vz/120 pistol in one hand, jeweled knife in the other, and half a dozen combat spells flooding his mind.

The woman was crouched low to the floor, one hand across her knee and the other on the, floor for balance. Even as she was, Kyle could tell she was tall, with shoulder-length black hair and bright silver-blue eyes that reflected the window light back at him. She wore black leather pants, a tight, midriff-revealing black leather halter top, and a long-sleeved green leather jacket. When she smiled, Kyle felt more than a little fear. She was painfully beautiful, and he had little doubt who she was.

Her bright, unblinking gaze locked with his. "Apparently, some lucky simsense producer happened to be in the right place at the right time and got footage of Knight Errant attacking a real ant spirit hive. Saved them quite a bit of money on special effects, I'd say.”

"Of course, why present the truth when you can make money selling it as fiction?" she said, standing up slowly, gracefully unfolding herself. "Not that anyone would have believed it"

"Please don't come any closer," Kyle said.

"I don't intend to. I was simply tired of crouching there."

Kyle clenched the pistol tighter and risked slipping his perception into astral space. Her aura was powerful, and odd. Its shape didn't seem to match that of the body she wore. She smiled again, and he willed his foci to life, mentally triggering the final mystical connections that empowered them. He felt the energy, the potential, arise within him as each activated in turn.

Linda Hayward stopped smiling, tensing slightly as she eyed the additions to his now unmasked aura.