Criminal Minds

A Fox Meridian Novel

By Niall Teasdale

Copyright 2016 Niall Teasdale

Amazon Kindle Edition

Contents

Part One: The Sisters of Corruption

Part Two: Jack

Part Three: Criminal Minds

Part Four: Marie Jeanette

Part Five: Spin

Part One: The Sisters of Corruption

New York Metro, 12th August 2060.

‘I got it! I got it I got it I got it!’

Fox looked at Sam, sitting beside her on his sofa. ‘Do you think she got it?’

Sam looked up at where Marie was bouncing up and down on her toes, an expression of serious contemplation on his face. ‘I think she may have, though I’m at a loss to explain what she has.’

Marie scowled at him. ‘That part. The vid? For IB-Nineteen?’

‘I thought you’d already got that. Last month, in fact.’

‘I passed the audition, but it was preliminary casting, subject to confirmation from the channel management, and subject to them getting final go-ahead on the project. We start shooting on the twenty-third. I got it!’ The bouncing picked up again.

‘Who’s the producer?’ Fox asked.

‘Ha! A guy named Nathan Shark. The writer’s a friend of his, Adrian Daker.’

‘I know them. They worked on Murder is My Business.’

‘Still do, as far as I know, but this is totally separate. And I’m the lead actress!’ Marie stopped bouncing and settled onto the sofa beside Sam. ‘It’s kind of low-budget, to be honest, which is why they’re taking a total unknown as the lead. It doesn’t pay star headline rates, but it’s a chance to really show what I can do, I hope.’

‘You’ll shine,’ Fox told her. ‘What’s the part? A murder mystery of some sort, I assume?’

‘Uh-huh. It’s very loosely based on Jack the Ripper, but told from the point of view of the last victim. Would-be victim. I doubt I’m spoiling anything if I say she doesn’t die. She’s the heroine.’

‘Mary Kelly,’ Fox said, raising an eyebrow. ‘You’re playing Mary Jane Kelly. Discovered in her room at thirteen Miller’s Court on the ninth of November eighteen eighty-eight. Throat cut, abdomen sliced open and more or less emptied. Her heart was missing.’

Marie nodded, grimacing. ‘The character is called M. J., but that’s the part. She’s been updated. It’s a modern setting so she’s a licensed prostitute in New York… but I might pick your brains about the original murders. It sounds like you know about them.’

‘Ripper lore. It’s one of the great, unexplained serial murder sprees. And responsible for various forensic techniques which are still in use today, sort of anyway. If Jack had been at work in London today, I think they’d catch him, but it was a different world back then.’

‘I suppose you’ll be wanting to pick my brains too?’ Sam asked. ‘Or is living alongside a licensed prostitute enough?’

‘No, I’d like to know more,’ Marie replied, enthused. ‘I want to really get this character right. I’m not exactly a method actor, but I’d like to understand what being a pro is about. Mind you, M. J. is almost an ex-prostitute. The backstory is that she was attacked by one of her clients and she sort of dropped out of the life. When the story starts, she’s working as an instructor with the Sis– Uh, she joined the Church of Saint Nicholas and she teaches more than practising.’

Sam’s lips quirked. ‘They’re quite happy to be called the Sisters of Corruption. There’s your first tip. It was originally used as an insult, mostly by more conventional Christians, but they have an excellent memetics division and they turned an insult into a positive reference. “If love, skill, and professional ethics are corrupt, then we are the Sisters of Corruption.”’

‘You seem to know a lot about them.’

‘I should. I trained in their Boston Chapter House and I’m a lay member. You have to be female to be a full member, but they take men as lay brothers.’

‘You never struck me as the religious type, Sam,’ Fox said.

‘The Sisters have a rather more… egalitarian view of belief. They don’t require their lay members to believe in God; they simply require them to believe in behaving as they think God would wish. It’s another bone of contention with the more traditional religions. A relatively minor one compared to the core issue, obviously.’

‘That they’re all practising prostitutes.’

‘That would be it.’ Sam turned his attention back to Marie. ‘You’re serious about wanting to get the character right?’

‘Oh yes,’ Marie replied, nodding.

‘And do you think the producer and writer would accept some input on the character?’

‘I… Well, I think this is the first project they’ve had that they’re doing solo, so to speak. I got the impression they wanted a good vid. Commercial, obviously.’ Marie’s cheeks coloured a little. ‘There’s some nude work and a sex scene, which I’m going to need to work up to. It’s going to show in a late-night slot. But I think they’ll take input if it improves the product.’

‘All right. I’ll get you an appointment with Naomi. She’s usually happy to promote the Church and getting your character right may help.’

‘Naomi Lind?! You know Naomi Lind?’

‘I… know Naomi. She was one of my instructors in Boston before she was promoted to Sister Superior. I’ll call and see if she can fit you in.’

‘Mind if I tag along?’ Fox asked.

‘No, but why?’

‘Because she’s a client. Palladium was contracted to handle security at all their houses in April. I’ve not got anything major on until the contract negotiations for the regional private policing stuff starts in October. They’re going through the legislative consultation process now, but that’s mostly a problem for the legal department. Meeting clients is always useful and I honestly know next to nothing about the Sisters.’

Sam gave a nod. ‘A good, and professional, reason. I’ll make arrangements.’

13th August.

‘The consultation process is going fairly smoothly,’ Garth Eaves said. It was his avatar, projected onto a seat at the head of the table which was not really there, that Fox was looking at: Eaves was in Chicago with the rest of the Palladium board. ‘Nothing has come up which was not expected, but it’s early days yet. We’re expecting to have to press on some of the details, but the broad features are acceptable.’

‘Wayden reacting as expected?’ Ryan Jarvis asked.

‘Seventeen proposed amendments so far. As expected, they’re trying to make it harder for local groups to create their own forces. They aren’t set up, as we are, to take advantage of that kind of arrangement. They want people to have to buy services from them, but they’ll have a hard fight to get any of these changes through, even without our opposition.’

‘They misjudged public mood?’ Fox asked.

‘They’re more interested in this as practice,’ Eaves replied. ‘It’s also precedent. They want stiffer rules for the metro areas when they become subject to the same laws.’ There were nods, some resigned, but no one said anything. ‘We’ll keep monitoring and see how things go. Any other business?’

‘Actually, yes,’ Fox said.

‘You never bring up other business,’ Jarvis said, grinning.

‘Because I don’t normally have any. I’m meeting with Naomi Lind of the Sisters of Corruption this afternoon. Anything I should bring up?’

‘Why are you meeting Naomi?’

Fox noted the immediate use of a client’s first name, but decided not to mention it. ‘Marie has a part in a vid. She’s playing a Sister and Sam, it turns out, is a lay brother and knows Ms Lind. I asked if I could tag along since I don’t know much about the organisation.’

‘The contracts are all dotted, crossed, and in action,’ Eaves said.

‘We have emergency facilities cover in place,’ Alice Vaughn added. ‘We ran a trial in May and we were all happy with how that worked out.’

‘Security is solid,’ Jarvis said. ‘It was before we took over, to be honest; we just tightened a few things here and there, and made sure we had personnel to cover them. We use all-female response personnel for that contract. It wasn’t a requirement, but we thought it appropriate and they liked the idea. You’ll probably like Naomi.’

‘She is… quite something,’ Vaughn agreed.

‘Well,’ Fox said, ‘I guess I’ll get to find out this afternoon.’

~~~

The New York Chapter House of the Church of Saint Nicholas occupied an entire block just off the LI-line as it ran south-west past Jersey City, just before it turned to cross Newark Bay and headed for the spaceport. Four storeys high, it had been housing, once upon a time, and a car park before that according to the records Fox had found. Unlike Marie, Fox knew the interior layout as well, because she had done her homework and gone over the security documentation. So, as they walked in through the wide front door of the central section into a lobby, Fox was checking the positions of the security cameras and did not immediately notice the woman striding toward them.

‘Good afternoon, Sam,’ the voice was sultry but strong, and Fox focused on its owner. The voice fit her really well.

‘Sister Naomi,’ Sam said. ‘I’d like to introduce Marie Shaftsbury, who I called about, and Tara Meridian, the CIO of Palladium Security Solutions.’

Naomi smiled a smile full of perfect, white teeth. She was a truly beautiful woman with a hard edge, the kind of model good looks you saw on catwalks. Long, very long, legs and a slim body with long, firm muscle gained from training. There was a gym in the building, Fox knew. Fox was also pretty sure that Naomi’s beauty was substantially natural, but there had been some work. Cheekbones had been sharpened a little and there had been breast augmentation because nothing natural was that firm. The hard edge was lent added weight by cool, blue eyes with sharp, upward-tilted eyebrows and short-cropped blonde hair. She was wearing the standard uniform of the Sisters of Corruption, which was not your typical nun’s habit. There was a wimple sitting over the short hair, but not covering it or her face. Below that was a tunic, black at the back, white at the front, with an open cleavage partially covered by a cross of black fabric. The skirt was black, and came down to mid-thigh, but it was cut high over the thighs to show off her stocking tops and the suspenders holding them. The white stockings were settled into eight-inch, white pumps with two-inch platforms. Naomi was a little taller than Fox anyway, even without the heels. With them, the sight was… quite something.

‘Marie,’ Naomi said, holding out a hand. ‘I hope you don’t mind me using your first name. We tend to be informal here.’

Marie took the hand. She was looking a little dumbfounded, but she rallied. ‘No, that’s fine. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

Still smiling, Naomi turned to Fox. ‘Despite our business relationship, I hope it’s okay to call you Tara?’

‘No, I’m afraid it’s not,’ Fox replied with just a little cool in her voice. Then she waited a beat as Sam started to look shocked and Naomi’s eyes turned puzzled, and added, ‘I’m Fox. My mother calls me Tara and, despite recent changes to her wardrobe choices, you are most definitely not her.’ Fox’s lips twitched. ‘So it’s Fox, if you don’t mind.’

The confusion was replaced by a sparkle and Naomi’s lips curled. ‘I think I’m going to like you, Fox. Let’s go up to my rooms and get comfortable. We can have the tour later.’ She turned smartly on her heel and started for the back of the lobby area. The skirt was shorter at the back, considerably so, with a pair of similarly high-cut vents showing off far more suspender and a substantial amount of ass.

‘That is one helluva outfit,’ Fox said. ‘You’re going to be wearing that, Marie?’

‘I think she can pull it off,’ Naomi said over her shoulder. ‘Good legs. We really don’t have any illusions about what we are, Fox. We have religious beliefs, but we’re prostitutes and showing off the goods is part of the job.’ She walked through double doors into a small corridor with an elevator on each side. The doors on one car were already opening.

‘Efficient,’ Fox noted.

‘Well, we did have your colleague, Alice, take a look over our systems and improve a few things. The elevator control system was one of them. All on call via our VAs. I must say it didn’t take long to get used to that.’ She smirked a little. ‘Stairs in these heels are killers’

It took seconds to reach the top and then Naomi strutted out onto another corridor, walked to the end, and opened a door into her apartment. They walked into a lounge which had the odd feature of looking both comfortable and austere. There were pictures on the walls, real ones painted by a human, but no excessive decoration. The furniture appeared comfortable, far more so than one might expect in a religious house, all in a soft, cream fabric which looked a terror to keep clean, but was spotless.

‘Can I get anything for anyone?’ Naomi asked. ‘Coffee, tea, soft drinks?’

‘Coffee would be good,’ Fox replied, and there were mutterings from the others.

‘I’ll have something brought up. Have a seat.’ She settled herself down on a sofa, crossing her legs and settling her skirt. Fox sat beside her, allowing Marie and Sam to take the sofa opposite, separated by a low table. ‘Now, Marie, tell me about this role and what you wish to learn.’

‘Okay.’ Marie rubbed her palms on her short skirt and then settled them, clasped, on her knees. ‘I’m playing a character called M. J. Kelly. She was a high-class prostitute working mostly in the MCD until a client attacked her and held her hostage. Somewhat traumatised by the experience, she joined the Sisters and took up instructing rather than practising. She gets some of her confidence back and she’s doing well, but then she starts being stalked by a serial killer. She meets a detective who’s hunting the killer and he falls for her, kind of clichéd, and in the end they take down the killer when he comes for her. It’s my first role, and I’m the lead. Budgets and stuff, but it’s a big chance. If I get this right, pull the character off convincingly, this could mean a lot to me. And, on top of that, Sam means a lot to me and I’d like to put the profession in as good a light as I can. Most people don’t know a professional prostitute and there’s… something of a stigma attached to being one. I’d like M. J. to be accurate and sympathetic, and I think the best way I can do that is to know what being a Sister is about.’

Fox saw Sam relax a little, though the tension in his body had been barely noticeable. He thought the case had been well made. Fox thought the same, but whatever response Naomi might have given was interrupted by a knock on the door followed by it opening and a young woman entering with a tray. She was dressed more or less the same as Naomi, except that her outfit was white with red trim and a red cross, and she was in red pumps. She smiled and walked over to place the tray down on the table, bending at the knees in a graceful move which did not show off too much of her behind.

‘Thank you, Miriam,’ Naomi said.

Miriam bobbed her head. ‘Sister Naomi, Sister Angelina asked me to mention that the advanced class in theatre three is short a male partner.’

Naomi frowned, but Sam got to his feet. ‘If Marie and Fox are okay without me, I’ll go fill in,’ he said.

‘Always reliable, Sam,’ Naomi said. ‘Thank you. Miriam, would you take Sam to Angelina and she can get him into the class?’

Fox waited until Sam and Miriam had left before asking, ‘Why the different uniform?’

‘Miriam is a novice, though she’ll likely move up to full Sister soon. We wear the red cross for one year, or until licensed if that takes longer. Now, Marie, don’t look so nervous. Sam quite rightly realised that you had already convinced me to help and he could leave you to it. Your case was well made and your motives are good ones.’

‘Well, it’s a little selfish,’ Marie admitted. ‘I mean, I did say that this could be big for my career.’

‘There is nothing wrong with ambition, so long as we don’t climb the ladder on the heads of those we leave behind. How long do you have to prepare?’

‘Well, basically a week. Shooting starts on the twenty-third, a week on Monday.’

Naomi pursed her lips. ‘Not long… A crash course? Would you be willing to spend next week here? Full-time. You’d be a novice Sister for five days. It’s chores, services, and you’d be taking part in lessons. And the latter isn’t always as exciting as it sounds.’

Marie’s eyes widened. ‘You’d let me do that?’

‘Yes. Promoting the profession is part of our business, especially fighting the preconceptions around it. I think the simple fact that your character is a Sister should be good for our image since she doesn’t seem like she’s a pushover.’

‘Oh, she’s not. She’s not Fox, but she’s got spirit.’

Naomi nodded. ‘If we can make her more realistic, so much the better. We do teach judo for self-defence and we do a lot of work on confidence and handling clients. You will be required to dress appropriately and there will be a few classes on technique. Are you sure you can cope with that?’

‘Have you seen what she normally wears?’ Fox asked. ‘If you can supply us with a suitable fabricator pattern, we can make her a uniform at home and save you the expense.’

‘Thank you. I’ll arrange it.’

‘And the classes…’ Marie said. ‘I think I can do it. I guess I won’t know how horribly embarrassing it’ll be until I try, but it’s part of the job and it’s not like I’m aiming for a licence. Honestly, I don’t know how Sam does it. I couldn’t. I don’t think so anyway. I think… I think a week here could really help with the sex scene I have to do. I’m still not entirely sure how I’m going to handle that either.’

Naomi smiled. ‘I’ll see if I can arrange a sit-in on one of our advanced classes. We do courses for performance artists, stage and vid. That’s likely a little more… explicit than you’ll need, but it may be useful.’

‘Thank you. You’re being really helpful.’

‘I’d be inclined to help simply because… Well, Sam hasn’t shown any inclination to romantic involvement since me. You must be quite special, Marie.’

Marie blinked. ‘You and Sam were…’

‘He didn’t mention it?’ Naomi winced. ‘Sorry, I’d assumed…’

‘He didn’t say it,’ Fox said, ‘but I got the impression you’d been something more than student and teacher. Marie hasn’t known him as long as I have.’

‘If that causes problems, I apologise.’

‘No,’ Marie said quickly. ‘No, it’s fine.’

Fox was fairly sure it was not entirely fine, and she was sure that Naomi knew it too, but the Sister Superior just said, ‘We’ll have coffee and I’ll go over a few things for next week, and then we’ll take the tour. Fox will get to see her company’s work, and you’ll have some idea of where things are before you start.’

‘That sounds great,’ Marie replied, and Fox decided that she was going to have to intervene later or that was going to stew for weeks.

~~~

‘And this is our primary memetics lab,’ Naomi said as they entered a large room with dark painted walls and subdued lighting. Around it, sitting on ergonomic office chairs, were around twenty women in uniform, all of them working over virtual terminals. The rear wall of the room was displaying a big, complex network of some sort.

‘They’re studying the private policing legislation,’ Kit, Fox’s personal assistant AI, said inside Fox’s head. ‘That is a memetic ecology map of the key groups.’

‘You’re looking at the private policing legislation?’ Fox asked.

‘Oh yes,’ Naomi replied. ‘I’m sure you have a team examining it too. We have eight people working to ensure there are no issues with it affecting us. It would not be the first time that someone tried to sneak something into law which restricts our business. I wasn’t aware that memetics was in your portfolio.’

‘My AI is better at that kind of thing than I am. Kit, why don’t you introduce yourself?’

Kit appeared, or her avatar transmitted itself for resolution by the implants of those around Fox. She was a cute, very pretty, anime-style character with long, ash-blonde hair which formed ear tufts at the top of her head, big green eyes, and a silky white fox’s brush emerging from her back. Her outfit was a short, white, strapless dress, collar and cuffs, a frilled bolero-style jacket, and high-heeled knee boots.

‘Good afternoon, Sister Naomi,’ Kit said.

Naomi looked delighted. ‘Hello, Kit. You are just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, and knowledgeable.’

‘Class four AIs have something of a talent for memetics,’ Kit replied. ‘We think much as a human would, and we have an innate ability to examine our own thought processes.’

‘A class four? And you’re running on an implant?’

Fox raised her right arm. ‘Artificial more or less to the elbow. There was… an incident. Anyway, there are a couple of quantum processors in here and Kit executes on one in place of a standard VA. She has a full server at home with a bit more room for her mind, but she does an excellent job when we’re in the field.’

Naomi smiled. ‘Oh, you have to stay visible, young lady. The girls will just love you.’ Her voice raised a little. ‘I can see that everyone here is suddenly ignoring their terminals.’ There was a rustle of fabric, audible in the following quiet as twenty heads wearing wimples were turned suddenly to stare at virtual screens.

‘Perhaps I would be too much of a distraction,’ Kit suggested.

‘Exactly. Let’s see how good their discipline is. And I haven’t had a good laugh in far too long.’

Fox found that difficult to believe: Naomi seemed like a good-humoured woman. ‘Have we met before today?’ Fox asked. ‘I’d swear I’ve seen you… Sheela Na Gig. You were at Sheela Na Gig the first night we went there.’

‘I do frequent that club, yes. When I practised full-time, I specialised in BDSM.’ Well, she certainly had the look to pull off a good dominatrix. ‘I like to keep my hand in now and again so I play the Mistress there when I can. Yes, I remember seeing both of you there with Sam. You seemed to be entertaining yourselves so I didn’t intrude.’

‘A friend of mine, Helen, was celebrating her freedom from NAPA. The blonde with the Asian look to her? She works for me now.’

Naomi nodded, and Fox bet she never forgot a face even without her implant. ‘I remember her. A little more conservatively dressed than you were. You would make quite the dom yourself.’

‘Terri did want to beg to kiss your boots,’ Marie chimed in.

‘I admit to a slight urge to do the same,’ Naomi said, her tone bland. ‘Shall we continue? Let’s see who else Kit can distract.’

The middle part of the house was offices and the rooms of the Senior Sisters and, on the second floor…

‘Our clinic,’ Naomi said as they entered a white-walled room with ten beds, each surrounded by a fairly comprehensive set of medical equipment. There was a single attendant on duty, dressed in black, but there were no patients in. ‘Marie, we’ll need to give you a full physical when you come in on Monday. It’s standard practice–’

‘Every three months,’ Marie said. ‘I know from Sam.’

‘Quite. Sister Anne, would you put Marie Shaftsbury down for a standard induction physical at nine thirty on Monday, please?’

‘Of course, Sister Superior,’ Anne replied, smiling. ‘New blood?’

‘Marie will be joining us for the week. She’s an actress, but she’s willing to put the time into learning her role.’

‘Admirable. We’ll be ready for you, Marie.’

‘Thank you, Sister,’ Marie replied.

‘Anne. Sister Anne if you feel like being formal, or you want to start practising that role early.’

‘I’ll wait for Monday, Anne.’ Marie flashed a smile and Anne returned it. ‘See you on Monday.’

‘You certainly will.’

They left the clinic and started toward the north wing. Technically it was the north-east wing, but they called it the north wing.

‘The cameras are a little randomly placed,’ Fox commented as they walked.

‘Not randomly,’ Naomi replied. ‘We value our privacy. We had your people go over all the camera coverage, optimising it so that no one could enter without being seen, but the private areas were not covered.’ She lowered her voice a little. ‘There is quite extensive coverage where we’re going, but we don’t advertise that fact.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, this side is the brothel.’

Compared to the more austere look of the rest of the building, the north wing was sumptuous. Decorated in a lot of red and gold with v-tagged additions, the corridor they walked in on had a lot of doors off it and Fox got the impression she knew what was behind them.

Naomi confirmed it. ‘We have fifteen suites, each with a different theme. One is set up for bondage and S and M play, and one is a white room.’

‘White room?’ Marie asked.

Fox smiled. ‘She’s young. For medical role play, Marie.’

‘I’ll make sure we put some briefing notes on common fetishes in your induction pack, Marie,’ Naomi told her. ‘Downstairs we have a common room for meeting the girls, and the garage. We have a number of private transports which we use to collect clients. We can bring them in and they can enter the building unobserved.’ She stopped walking and turned. ‘Up above we have a lab for diagnostic work, a briefing room, and some storage. It’s not very exciting and I’d prefer not to be seen showing people around the common room.’

‘I think that’s fair,’ Fox said, and she lowered her voice before going on. ‘The cameras are good. I can’t spot any of them, but I saw this corridor when we were in the control room.’

‘Your people did a wonderful job. With the old system, we would get the occasional person spotting something, but now… One of our clients actually complimented us for being more trusting.’

‘If only they knew.’

‘Hopefully, they never will. Come on, we’ll go see where Marie will be spending most of next week.’

The south wing had no external doors apart from monitored fire doors, and so there were no cameras in it. Fox thought some monitoring on the corridors might have been a good idea, but it was not her call. Down on the ground floor they had refrigerated storage for foodstuffs, and a fabricator facility which had a fair number of 3D printers, but also plenty of hand-operated equipment. The Sisters liked to be able to use their hands to build things.

Up at the top were the dorms: sixteen, ten-bed bunkrooms with each room laid out as two groups of five and a social area with light cooking facilities. The idea was to have four novices or Sisters with a Senior Sister for each group, but they were rarely at capacity.

‘I think we’ll slot you into one of the threesomes,’ Naomi said as they toured through the bunkrooms. ‘You’ll have more people to observe and all the support you’re likely to need. It may take a little while to get used to sleeping in a dorm, but most people adjust and we can provide mild tranqs for the first couple of nights if you need them.’

‘Why would I need them?’ Marie asked.

‘It’ll be like barracks,’ Fox replied. ‘Unfamiliar bed, people moving around you, strangers at that. And then there’s the snoring. Someone always snores. It’s like a universal rule or something.’

Naomi let out a throaty chuckle. ‘I believe it’s actually in Proverbs. “And God made sure that one person in a tent will always grate them out like a bandsaw.”’

‘That is not in the Bible.’

‘Theology joke. We do actually offer some procedures to fix it if it’s really bad. Nasal cavity modifications, usually. Snoring is often considered unattractive in a sleeping partner.’

Fox shook her head. ‘Weird stuff we do… Mind you, I could have really gone for that in boot camp. I remember this guy four bunks down. Sounded like heavy machinery when he got going, but after that I never had trouble with live fire exercises. Cakewalk compared to trying to sleep beside Corporal Havering.’

‘I’m told I have a cute snore,’ Marie put in, blushing a little.

‘You do. More like a purr. It’s actually mildly soporific.’ There was a slight pause and then, ‘Of course, the thumb sucking is a bit noisy.’

‘I do not suck my thumb in my sleep! I’d… wake up with a soggy thumb.’

‘I assume from your awareness of Marie’s nocturnal sucking habits that you and her have been an item, Fox?’ Naomi seemed quite happy to continue the ribbing, but she probably had a purpose behind her question.

‘We… dated for a couple of weeks,’ Fox replied. She was a little surprised to find that her stomach still lurched a little at the mention of it. ‘I gave her up to Sam. Sort of a public service. Like you said, he’s never shown any signs of wanting anything outside work.’

‘And you moved on to Jason pretty quickly,’ Marie said.

Fox affected a sorrowful tone. ‘Consolation. I needed the consolation.’

‘Oh yeah, he’s so not a consolation prize. Tall, blonde, godlike, and he understands all the cop stuff.’

‘He’s the local UNTPP captain,’ Fox explained. ‘Kit pushed me into it.’

‘I did not push!’ Kit squeaked.

‘But it’s working out pretty well. We both understand work pressure and we’re not too worried about making it complicated. That just leaves the lecture theatres, right?’

Naomi accepted the change of topic with a smile. ‘That’s right. I assume you studied the floorplans. There are cameras in there, but they are rather specialised. They record lectures and student performance for later review. It’s not often easy to see what you can improve when you’re doing it, so we video and dissect.’

‘You could probably make a fortune marketing some of those vids.’

‘It would be a little too clinical for most viewers. We do market the best vids made for the advanced performance classes, but those are full productions for the final grading exercise. We take a cut, as with the brothel, and the performers and technicians get payment per unit sold. I wouldn’t say we’ve made any millionaires, but we’ve had some successes.’

Despite the fact that stairs were ‘killers in these heels,’ there were no elevators in the south wing. Naomi showed no signs of discomfort, or lack of grace, as she tripped down the stairs to the next floor down. Then she placed her finger to her lips and slipped through a door into a classic, sloping lecture theatre. Below them, a woman was standing at a lectern, in the middle of some sort of lecture.

Naomi patched through a private telepresence connection conferencing Fox and Marie into it. ‘This is a professional behaviour and ethics lecture. It’s not all perfecting fellatio and correct bondage techniques.’

‘I didn’t think it was,’ Marie replied. ‘I’ve been around Sam long enough to know he’s very ethical about his clients.’

‘He doesn’t talk about them,’ Fox said, ‘except anonymously. Well, there’s Felix and Isabella Bournville, but those are rather specific cases.’

‘Sam told me about Felix,’ Naomi said. ‘That was sad. You cracked the case, right?’

‘Yes. Not that the person responsible is locked up, but… August is under house arrest and Sam believes that’s good enough, given that August is pretty remorseful about it.’

‘Sam’s like that. He’s always been one of the most grounded men I know. After… When we were together, we were very much in love, but then I got the promotion. He told me I should go. That this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He would follow me when he could.’

‘So he did and…’

‘It took him ten months to move down from Boston, and then he was setting up and busy, and things had just… cooled off.’

Fox flicked a glance at Naomi. Maybe Sam had cooled off, but she had not. Back then anyway. The relationship seemed to be pure friendship now, but Fox doubted it had been the same ten years ago when Sam had moved to New York.

‘Miss Bournville is my agent,’ Marie said. ‘Sam introduced us. She’s one of his clients, but he didn’t mention a name until he’d asked if she would see me.’

‘I know Isabella,’ Naomi said. ‘Good woman. Helluva sub. That’s confidential, obviously.’

‘Wait… Miss Bournville, who can cut you in half with a look, is a submissive?’

‘Quite a lot of strong-willed people have a desire to relinquish control at times. It’s a release valve. I do it myself on the rare occasion I find a woman I trust and respect enough to give control to.’

‘Not men?’

‘I enjoy men, but not for that. I’ve never found a man I trusted like that. Well, there was one, but he’s not inclined that way. We have another two theatres like this, and two which are used for group practical tuition.’ The change of subject was a little sharp. ‘Sam’s in one of those helping with a class. One of our main reasons for having lay brothers is to provide tuition with people we know we can trust, and who know what they’re doing, obviously.’

‘And, uh, I’d be doing some of those classes?’ Marie asked.

‘You’ll be doing beginners’ courses. If you’ll pardon the crudity, we assume that if you’re joining us, you know how to fuck. At least at the basic level and, frankly, if you’re with Sam, I’d imagine you’ve picked up a few things.’

‘I… might have learned a few things.’

Naomi pressed her lips together, fairly obviously to avoid laughing out loud. ‘I’d imagine so. He’s quite a good instructor.’

‘Uh… yeah.’

‘You’ll need to get over that hesitancy, Marie. Part of what we do is make sure our students are suitable for the job. Now, you aren’t aiming for the job, but your character is a professional.’

‘I think it’s just talking about it and, so long as I’m acting, I should be fine. Living in the same house as my lover and my ex-lover, I’ve mostly got over being embarrassed about sex, but I do tend to get teased some.’

‘Mea culpa,’ Fox said.

‘Well, there’ll be no teasing next week. Plenty of critical evaluation, but we take a dim view of teasing.’

15th August.

Fox poured herself coffee from the jug Sam had made. She had spent most of Saturday going over legislation documents and they had been buzzing around in her brain until the early hours. She really needed the coffee.

‘Where’s Marie?’ Fox asked.

‘Studying,’ Sam replied. ‘You want me to get something to eat sent up?’

‘No, I just need coffee. About a boatload. And to never see another legal document. Ever.’

‘Think that’s likely?’

Fox fell onto the sofa, demonstrating her considerable grace and skill by not spilling a drop of coffee. ‘No. It’s not. Not until October. After that, it’ll be contract documents.’ Her tone turned to sobbing. ‘Legal contract documents through to January.’

Reaching out, Sam patted Fox on the shoulder. ‘There, there. It’ll all be over before you know it.’

‘I can feel the life draining out of me. If I turn into a zombie, you’ll shoot me in the head, right?’

‘It’s the least I can do.’

‘True friends know when to shoot you in the head.’ Fox drank coffee. Neurons fired. ‘What’s Marie studying?’

‘Naomi sent over a briefing pack on being a novice. They usually get a week of induction prior to donning the wimple, but Marie doesn’t have the time, so she’s doing the crash course.’

‘And then she’s going to need to have the script worked through before shooting starts. It’s a lot of work.’

‘Yes. She’s stressing over it, but she can do it. It’s important to her. If this works out, it could be a big break for her, and it’s fast. Maybe it’s a little too fast, but I think she’s grounded enough to handle it.’

Fox smiled. ‘She’s got you to fall back on. You’ll keep her feet on the ground. Or keep her standing if she falls.’

‘Thank you for your confidence.’

‘Sam… What happened with Naomi?’

Sam took a gulp of coffee and was silent for a long second. ‘We met in Boston when I began my training. I was nineteen, she was… forty, I think. She was sophisticated, strong, the older woman I watched from afar. I wasn’t the only one, but she was always the disciplined teacher; she didn’t form relationships with students. I got my licence in forty-nine, June, and I was a little surprised when she suggested some “additional training.” We had an on-and-off sort of affair for a year. It was all lust and hot sex. I’m not sure there was love, but there was affection. And then, in July of twenty fifty, her mother died.’

‘Oh.’

‘Annabel Lind. I met her once.’

‘Wait a minute. I thought I knew that name. She was part of the movement to have prostitution legalised.’

‘Yes, she was. One of our little bonds was that neither of our mothers wanted us to follow their path. Naomi’s father died in a car accident ages ago. Twenty eighteen, I think. Annabel turned to prostitution to pay the bills and she wanted her daughter to have a better life, but with the legalisation going through and Naomi’s obvious talents… Annabel was not pleased, but she accepted her daughter’s vocation. Mine was more reluctant, but I won her over. Annabel and Naomi were almost more like sisters by the time I knew them. Naomi was devastated by Annabel’s death and it seemed like I was the only person who could get through to her. Lust turned into love. For six months we were… And then she got the Sister Superior position and had to move to New York. I encouraged her to go.’

‘She said you did, that you’d follow as soon as you could.’

‘I did, and I meant it. But my business was taking off. I got a job guarding the daughter of some businessman. The details aren’t important, but I saved her life, twice. I got a reputation for all of my skills and I focused on building it. I still had Naomi in mind when I decided to move here, but I admit that the job was starting to take its toll. I was young and, frankly, a little stupid. By the time I was in New York and my business was settled, we had been apart for a year and I just wasn’t interested in sex outside of work. I’d also convinced myself that an important, powerful woman like Naomi couldn’t really need me. Love turned to friendship.’

‘You know that wasn’t how she felt, don’t you?’

‘Not then. I’m older now, but that time is past. If I have any regrets at all, then Naomi is one of them, but we did manage to salvage a friendship out of it. Enough that she persuaded me to become a lay brother. She said she’d seen talent in me the day I started training and it would be a crime not to pass it on. And we share a desire to support our profession.’ Sam managed to pull together a smile. ‘I admit I saw her in Sheela Na Gig in the leather basque and some of the old lust stirred, but then I’ll admit to the same sort of feeling when you walked in.’

‘Huh. Coming from you, and comparing me to her, that’s a helluva compliment. I think you were ready to try some non-work sex again. Everyone changes. Marie was just lucky enough to be there when something pushed you over the edge. I’m kind of glad. Losing her hurt. Still hurts a little… But I value what we have and sex would have changed it.’

‘Yes,’ Sam said in a musing tone. ‘Yes, I think we have a good relationship. But if I have more than one regret, hurting you is one of them, and not going further with you is another.’

‘Don’t got soppy on me.’

‘Have you ever known me to be soppy?’

‘No, but there’s a first time for everything, and with all these weird urges to emotional ties…’

‘Weird urges?’

‘Ain’t neither of us is normal, Sam. Weird urges.’

Sam nodded, looking resigned. ‘You may be right.’

16th August.

Raw sensation. Nerves tingling from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, but definitely more of a burning somewhere in the middle. Fox had lost herself five minutes ago in the almost hypnotic motion, the rise and fall, the roll of hips. There was no sound, no light. She had found her way to her current, intensely pleasurable, condition by touch. She had no desire to leave it, but it was inevitable that it would end and, when the inevitable could be staved off no longer, she felt him swell within her, the added sensation driving her over into the blind, searing wash of climax which claimed her entirely for an eternity…

‘Thanks,’ Fox said. She still lay atop him, still straddling his hips with the thickness of him filling her, but now she was almost sprawled on his chest, still unwilling to leave. She had retained enough brain power to raise the lights a little and the warm red walls of her bedroom just added to her feeling of contentment.

‘I believe I should be thanking you, mon chérie.’

Fox looked down at the wide mouth, the sharply angled features, the cool blue eyes so full of heat. ‘I’ve spent the last couple of days reading legislative documents, and you let me sleep without dreaming about them. Thanks for coming over.’

Jason Deveraux, captain of UNTPP New York, developed a wicked sort of smile. ‘Any man requested to “come over and fuck my brains out” by you would be some sort of imbécile to say no.’

Fox grinned. ‘I did say that, didn’t I? And you did do it too. But… back to work. After a shower anyway.’

‘Alas, the same is true for me.’

She stroked a hand over his chest and fought the urge to persuade him to stay for another thirty minutes… ‘Hey! You couldn’t spare half an hour or so to talk to the Palladium board, could you?’

Jason raised a quizzical brow. ‘About what?’

‘The private policing regulations. We’re having a meeting on it first thing and it would be interesting to hear an international perspective on the subject. Don’t tell me you guys aren’t watching this pretty closely.’

‘We are observing, obviously.’ His expression became thoughtful. ‘I will tell the office I will be in late. Inter-agency relations.’

‘I thought that was what we’ve been doing.’

He chuckled. ‘Move, before I make us late for your meeting.’

~~~

‘Okay, guys,’ Fox began as she sat down in the virtual conference room which now occupied her office, ‘no embarrassing releases of sensitive information while our guest is at the table. Alice, roll your tongue back up.’

Vaughn’s image showed no signs of her tongue hanging out, but she shot Fox a mock glare. ‘I was only drooling a little.’

‘She never drools at me,’ Jarvis commented, affecting an over-dramatic, sad tone.

‘That’s because I got to know you.’ Vaughn was one of those people Naomi had been talking about when she had mentioned controlled people who liked to give it up to relax, except in reverse, sort of. She was naturally a bit shy and submissive, but had learned to overcome it by letting her temper out, a little bit at a time. Fox had heard that all her members of staff were terrified of a real dressing down because then she let her temper out all the way and strong men quaked in their boots. ‘Shall we proceed?’

‘Quite,’ Eaves said. ‘Since we have Captain Deveraux–’

‘Jason,’ Jason said. ‘I am only semi-officially here and it will take twice as long if we keep up this formality.’

‘Jason, then. Since you’re here, perhaps we can kick off with matters likely to concern international law enforcement.’

A text window appeared in Fox’s vision field, tagged with Alice’s ID and image. That accent is dreamy. How do you keep your hands off him?

Keeping the smirk off her face, Fox replied. Who says I do?

‘Our main concern,’ Jason said, oblivious to the text conversation, ‘is the amendment Wayden Executive Services have tendered concerning communications security.’

‘Interesting,’ Fox said. ‘Why?’

‘Because it is quite clear that NIX are behind it. The original regulation proposal states that communications should be “encrypted using suitable means,” which I believe to be a little vague and does need tightening. Wayden have specified a set of specific encryption mechanisms. For real-time communications, NIXRTE version six or seven, and for store and forward messages and file systems, they propose NIXES version nine. These are all good standards–’

‘But it’s widely believed that NIX have backdoor mechanisms into both,’ Jarvis said.

‘At least it’s not just me being paranoid,’ Fox added.

‘It is also more than a wide belief,’ Jason went on. ‘We have evidence suggesting that it is true of NIXRTE. It is unlikely that they would release a solid algorithm without such a vulnerability. The fact that all of these mechanisms are released as encrypted, black box software modules with little or no outside verification of the contents is another black mark against them.’

‘Shouldn’t be difficult to counter if we have an alternative,’ Eaves commented. ‘The National Intelligence Executive does not have an especially high public image.’

‘Which is why they have Wayden doing the work,’ Jarvis added. ‘What if we put in an alternative amendment calling for an internationally accepted encryption algorithm? It fixes the quality level, but not in such a narrow manner.’

‘And precludes the NIX protocols,’ Fox said. ‘They’ve refused a number of times to put their code through vetting. They say that it’s a security risk. Anyone who relies on “security through obscurity” is not doing their job and I’m sure the memetics department can work that kind of thing into the countermemes.’

‘I believe that would be a good counterproposal,’ Jason said. ‘More generally, and this is more of an undercurrent to our analysis than a real issue, we see too much involvement in the legislation from NIX. I think that they are attempting to gain heavy influence over internal policing in America.’

‘Oh, that’s more or less a certainty. We think they’ve got their claws in Wayden and they must have people embedded in NAPA.’

‘Which is worrying,’ Eaves continued, ‘given that NAPA will be responsible for monitoring the contracts and enforcing standards.’

Jason nodded. ‘Again this is my opinion, not that of the UNTPP, but I believe that profiling your auditors for NIX involvement may be a requirement. They have a, probably reasonable, right to ensure that national security is covered, but covert manipulation of the rules is outside their remit, as I understand it.’

‘It is, but they tend to come up with “operational reasons” for a number of actions which are likely more to do with politics. And oversight of their activities is insufficient.’

‘What if we try to change that?’ Fox said.

Eaves looked at her, frowning. ‘How?’

‘What if we put in an amendment to have NAPA’s regulatory function include policing activities carried out by NIX?’

‘We would never get it through.’

‘Maybe not. This time. Though I bet it’ll get strong public support. But it puts down a marker and we see about getting it put through as part of the metro policing resolution. If it’s put to public vote, they’ll have no choice but to accept it when it’s voted in, and the public doesn’t like NIX, so it will be.’

‘I thought you hated politics,’ Vaughn said, grinning.

‘I do, but bulldozing it is one of my only talents in that direction.’

‘If that’s your idea of bulldozing,’ Eaves said, ‘your idea of surgical must be verging on the Machiavellian. I’ll see to it.’

~~~

‘Above average health, no physical defects,’ Sister Anne said, her eyes on a virtual display. ‘You may wish to work on your stamina a little, but it’s not poor. Quite good physical flexibility. You’d make a good professional.’

Marie flashed her a grin while working her way into her white-and-red uniform. ‘Thanks. I’m not sure I have the mindset, but it’s nice to know I have something to fall back on if the acting doesn’t work.’ She paused in the middle of pulling her skirt on. ‘To be honest, there was a time when it was looking likely. I moved to New York expecting it all to be easy… Kind of stupid. I was lucky and got a job before I had to sell myself to get food.’

Settling her tunic over the skirt, Marie picked up the wimple and peered at it. ‘How does this work?’

‘There’s a clip under the brim. Settle it where you want it, and then clip it into your hair.’

‘Oh.’ Marie fiddled to get the headdress in place and said, ‘So, not that I should be shocked, but… no panties?’

Anne smirked. ‘It’s thematic. Just remember how short the skirt is at the back when you need to bend over. Not flashing the room when you do is part of the training. Teaches an element of deportment. And we do make exceptions for various reasons; we’re not stupid.’

Marie fixed the wimple and turned to Anne for approval. It was Naomi who spoke, however, as she walked into the clinic. ‘You look perfect, Marie. A proper novice. You read the briefing material I sent?’

‘Yes, Sister Naomi,’ Marie replied.

Naomi smiled. ‘Very good. I have to admit I’ll be fascinated to see how you get on. Now, you have your class schedule for the morning. Sister Demeter will find you at lunch and introduce herself and the other members of your dorm. You’ll have a chance to settle in with them a little during chores.’

‘And then it’s back to classes before the evening meal, right?’

‘Classes and then evening prayers, then you get to eat and then you’re free until midnight prayers and bed.’

‘And up at eight for morning prayers,’ Anne said. ‘Be thankful this isn’t a classic nunnery. It’s hard work here, but it’s not killing.’

Naomi nodded. ‘Come, Marie, I’ll walk you to your first class. That way you won’t get glared at by the instructor.’

Marie checked her schedule: etiquette was first on the list. It would not hurt to learn some since she knew a lot more about how to behave on the street than in high society. She waited to get outside the clinic before she spoke. ‘How much does it cost to do your basic course if you aren’t a novice, Sister Superior?’

‘It’s a thirty-two week, full-time course, five days a week, and we charge four thousand dollars.’

‘Thirty-two weeks?’

‘We cover a number of skills aside from sexual technique and professional behaviour. You can get more specific courses from other agencies which are shorter, but would require later study if you wish to progress in the profession. A graduate from our school can generally go into any aspect of sex work they wish rather than starting out at the bottom and working up.’

‘I think it’s more the other skills that I’d be interested in, like etiquette, and I’ve got the money, but thirty-two weeks…’

‘Talk to Sam. He is a good instructor and he could certainly help.’

Marie smiled. ‘That’s a great idea. Thank you, Sister Naomi.’

Naomi smiled back, more of a grin. ‘I am, as they say, here to help.’ And for some reason the comment made Marie’s cheeks flare red.

~~~

Fox squeezed the bridge of her nose as the conference room faded around her and she was left at her desk in her office. There was a mild headache digging itself in behind her eyes, but she did not want to take anything for it unless it got worse.

‘Belle has some very mild painkillers,’ Kit said, appearing as Fox got to her feet.

‘No, I’m going to change and go out for a run. The air will clear my head.’

Fifteen minutes later, circling around the northern side of The Lake, the headache was not shifting. Fox was beginning to think that either the air in the metro was not as clean as the air quality indicators said or it was down to all the legalese floating around in her head.

There was so much of it! Some of it was actually pretty good, even some of the things put in by Wayden. They had filed an amendment which would require NAPA to give access to live case information when requested. Fox thought it was a little unlikely to pass given that the reasoning was dubious, but the board had agreed to press for it and come up with some stronger reasoning. For once, the request looked like something Wayden wanted, rather than something Wayden were doing for NIX, but it was one of the few.

Of course, there was no way to know just how deep Wayden was in things with NIX. They were certainly being influenced, but Fox got the impression it was more than that. She was wondering about looking into Wayden’s financials and history when she heard the scream.

Up ahead of her on the track she was running along, a man in a hoodie was charging toward her with a bag in his arms. The hoodie was grey and dirty, but the bag was new, in cream leather, and it really did not go with the outfit. Fox slowed, waited for the man to get within striking distance, and snapped her arm out, clotheslining him into a crumpled heap at her feet. She put her foot down on his chest before he could move.

‘Hey! What the fuck?!’

‘Yeah, just lie there and shut up, asshole,’ Fox told him. Inside her head, she added, ‘Kit, get NAPA here on the double, would you?’

‘Emergency call made and acknowledged,’ Kit replied almost immediately: the joy of digital transmission. ‘That was very impressive.’

‘Thanks.’ Fox pressed her foot down a little harder as the victim rushed over. Fox suspected there was about to be some gushing. She smiled. ‘Now that got rid of the damn headache.’

~~~

Marie worked her jaw, trying to get the ache out of the muscles which felt as though it was likely there for life. It was time for chores, specifically for cleaning the dorm room, but that was easy, almost therapeutic. Classes were another matter.

‘You okay?’ Marie looked up at the other white-clad figure in the room, Sister Gilly, a bright, perky blonde who was helping with the common area set between the two blocks of beds. ‘The work’s not too much?’

‘This?’ Marie lifted the minivac she was using to clean over surfaces. ‘Oh no. This is my day job, though my skirt isn’t usually this short when I’m cleaning.’

Gilly frowned a little. ‘They told us you were an actress…’

Marie did not classify herself as the greatest of people-readers, but suddenly some of the tension she had noticed on meeting her dorm-sisters leaped into sharp focus. ‘More like “aspiring actress,” though I guess I should stop calling myself that. This is going to be my first role and until we start filming, I’m really just a maid with aspirations.’

‘Oh!’ Gilly’s eyes widened a little. ‘But Sister Naomi herself came to tell us you’d be joining us, so we figured you knew her, and… um…’

‘My friend knows her. Sam Clarion?’ From the slightly dreamy smile Gilly developed, Marie figured that the novice knew Sam. ‘And when I got the part and asked him about the profession, he introduced me to Sister Naomi. Just lucky, but this is a really great opportunity to make the role work.’

‘Wow, yeah, I bet. So, if it’s not the work, why the faces?’

‘Period three.’

Gilly giggled. ‘Oh, yeah. I’d kind of forgotten what it does to your face. I’d say it gets easier, but you’re only here for the week.’

‘Huh. Chewing lunch was a real chore, but at least I’m learning something.’

‘Well, a lot of the beginners’ classes are theory and role play, so you’ll just have a headache, but watch out for period six on Friday. That one’s a real, um, pain in the ass.’

Marie winced. ‘Can’t wait.’

~~~

Fox watched the two men in uniforms approaching her and her captive. Her captive noticed them too and she felt him shift under her foot. She pressed down a little harder to remind him that he was to stay put. The victim had given her ID to Fox and left, happily, with her bag, but NAPA had not turned up yet.

‘Kit, ID requests on those two?’

‘I don’t need one,’ Kit replied, ‘though interestingly enough, they are denying the request. They are, or were, members of Augustine Property Services. The uniform is different, however. Mister August wound down Augustine, but it seems someone else has taken up the slack.’

‘Ten minutes and no cops. That’s unusual for the MCD.’ Fox reached behind her back to the pouch slung on her hips, unzipping it and reaching in to wrap her hand around her pistol.

‘It is unusual, yes.’

The men came to a stop, one looking down at the thief, the other giving Fox a thin smile. ‘Park security, ma’am,’ Smiler said. ‘We’ll take it from here.’

‘I think we’ll wait for NAPA,’ Fox replied, returning the smile.

‘We’re here to make sure the park–’

‘There is no “park security” and given that this guy is scared of you, we’ll wait for the real cops to arrive.’

Both men had their attentions focused on Fox now. Both were big men. Fox pegged Smiler for ex-military from the body form: the muscle on his frame had the slightly over-stuffed look of heavy infantry and he kept his dark hair clipped tight against his skull. His companion was more bulky, steroids and muscle grafts, and his nose had been broken once or twice and not fixed properly. Bulky looked more threatening, but Fox would have been happy to bet that Smiler was the real problem. Both of them were armed, a shock rod on the left hip and a pistol on the right. Bulky put his hand on his pistol, popping the retention strap.

‘Having noted and recorded your overtly threatening action,’ Fox said, straightening her back, ‘I am choosing to respond in an appropriate and measured manner.’ She slipped her pistol free of its carry pouch, bringing it to rest against her thigh.

‘I’m requesting an immediate status update on their response from NAPA,’ Kit informed her.

‘Look, lady,’ Smiler said, ‘we’re here to handle this kind of situation. We’re authorised by the citizenry of–’

‘The citizenry of the MCD don’t have the right to authorise private policing of public areas,’ Fox interrupted. ‘You two have no more right of arrest than I do, and since I’ve exercised my right to detain until the police arrive, you two can just back off. And try to keep your friend in check. If he moves that pistol one more centimetre, I’m going to put an extra hole in his head.’ She checked the load: baton rounds, but they weren’t to know that and at close range, one in the face would hurt like Hell. Behind Fox, the sound of rather clompy NAPA armour boots could be heard moving at a fair pace.

‘Right,’ Smiler said. ‘Okay, right. You get your way.’ He turned and did his best to look relaxed as he walked away. Bulky gave Fox a glare before pushing his pistol back into place and closing the strap.

Fox watched them walk away before turning her head to look at the featureless helmets of the two cops who were just arriving. ‘About time, guys. What happened? Get stuck in line at the doughnut shop?’

~~~

Mostly because there was a new novice in the dorm, the evening’s recreation period turned into a chat session. Marie was observant enough to notice that a lot of the stiffness had gone from her fellow Sisters: Gilly had passed the word around a little after chores. That was fine with Marie, because a week with four other girls who thought she was some prissy actress would have been Hell.

‘So you know Sam Clarion?’ The speaker was DeeDee, one of the Sisters. Her name was actually Delia Dunn, but Marie could have suspected the nickname came from her chest, even if she also suspected that double-D was an underestimate. Pretty, of course, and ash-blonde, DeeDee had perked up and become a lot more outgoing since lunch.

‘Uh, yeah,’ Marie said. ‘Well, he’s my boyfriend.’

Eyes widened. ‘Damn, girl, did you save the planet in a past life or something?’ That was Sister Niamh, a tall, slim, brunette who seemed to be following Naomi down the dominatrix line.

‘Must’ve. I mean, I do have to pinch myself some mornings. Then again, the woman I was with before Sam was… Maybe I saved a couple of planets or something. I live with them both. I live in the basement apartment, when I’m not waking up beside Sam, and that’s where I do the cleaning. Sam says we have to talk about the whole maid thing when I’m a famous actress.’ She grinned. ‘Like that’s going to happen.’

‘Where are you from originally?’ Demeter, the Senior Sister, asked. She probably had a decade on her charges, and looked older than they did, but she pulled off the added years very well. Her eyes had the same sort of cool, blue-green colouration as Fox, but set in the kind of make-up that Fox rarely wore, and capped with highly arched eyebrows. Her body was more voluptuous than the slim frames which seemed more common among the Sisters, with a full chest and wide hips, and she had a somewhat motherly attitude, both in terms of the care she took and her firmness if she thought you were doing something wrong.

‘Originally, Sioux Falls in the Kansas Belt. I moved out here when my Mom died. Sixteen and sure I could become an actress. Yeah, I know, stupid. I got lucky and got a job doing housekeeping for an old guy, Felix, and that saved me from doing illegally what you’re learning to do now.’

‘But now you’re living with Sam?’

‘Felix… was murdered. He left the house to Sam, so Sam sort of inherited me too. And Felix left me some money to pursue my dream, and Sam knows an agent who helped me along.’

‘Did they catch the killer?’ DeeDee asked. She sounded shocked.

‘Fox caught him. She’s our other housemate, the woman I was with before Sam. She’s beautiful, strong, really smart. If there’s anyone you want on your side if you’re in trouble, it’s Fox. And we’re still friends, which I think says more about her than anything.’

‘All right, girls,’ Demeter said, ‘enough interrogating our new novice. Poker before bed and we can chat through that.’

‘Poker?’

‘Oh yes,’ Niamh said, grinning. ‘We have to get undressed anyway, so Sister Demeter is teaching us to play strip poker, Texas Hold ’Em rules.’

Marie sagged in her seat. ‘Well, I won’t be playing for long then.’

17th August.

‘Thanks for seeing me so quickly,’ Fox said. Harper August had arranged a meeting almost as soon as she had asked for it, limited only by having to go through NAPA for authorisation.

The old man was sitting at his desk, one wall of his room flooded with stock reports and accounting information which Fox neither understood nor wanted to. He was, she thought, looking a little better than the last time she had seen him. There was a light in his eyes she had not seen before, even before his arrest.

‘I wanted to talk to you anyway,’ August said, ‘concerning the foundation.’

‘You got a name for it yet?’

‘The Patricia Randall Foundation for Criminal Justice. The paperwork is already going through. I’ve recruited my executive board and a few more advisors. We’re currently negotiating with a number of experts we would like to have working for us. I’d like to organise a virtual conference this week. Nothing too terrible. A meet and greet as much as a business meeting.’

Fox settled into one of the guest chairs, noting that the terrible, uncomfortable straight-backs had been replaced with something more to the liking of her behind. ‘Well, I’m buried under legislative documents, but if you coordinate with Kit, I’m sure we can fit it in.’

‘The regional private policing legislation. Of course. I’m more interested in the metro resolution, obviously, but I’m watching the current round.’

Fox nodded. ‘That’s kind of what I wanted to talk about. You dissolved APS, right?’

‘I am in the process of so doing. I still have people employed to look after my properties, though I’ve sold a number of those to commit the funds to the foundation. I’m currently in negotiations to have those duties contracted out and then I’ll be able to liquidate APS.’

‘Negotiating with Palladium. I heard. Thank you for your business.’

‘Miss Meridian, I trust Wayden no further than I can comfortably spit a full-sized rat.’

‘That far, huh?’

‘At my age, the distance is significantly reduced.’ Yes, his humour seemed much improved.

‘Okay, so who’s wandering around Central Park pretending to be an authorised police force? The men I came across used to belong to APS.’

August frowned. ‘They are not mine and I’m rather “out of the loop” concerning events outside this house unless NAPA approve my involvement. I may be able to make some enquiries. I assume from your question that the men you met were not behaving in a suitable manner?’

‘They were more like paid thugs than cops. What bothered me more is that the response from NAPA was pretty substandard, and they’re normally sickeningly fast in the MCD.’

‘APS had something of a relationship with NAPA concerning crime in the park. It’s possible that one of my ex-associates has pressed that connection to more of an extreme.’

‘I don’t see that as a good thing. I’ll admit to being a little ambivalent about the regional policing vote. NAPA didn’t do that great a job outside the metros and the new regime may provide some improvements. In the metros… not so sure. And hired thugs taking over even before there’s a vote is not good.’

‘I will not disagree,’ August said, surprising Fox a little. ‘I think my own activities show that it can, and perhaps will, go wrong.’

‘I’m glad you think that. I’m hoping I can get some support from your foundation when I try to do something about it.’

‘Remember that I intend to stand down as soon as the foundation is formed, Miss Meridian.’

Fox raised an eyebrow. ‘I may actually consider trying to change your mind about that, Mister August.’

August’s lips actually twitched a little: the idea of him smiling was almost unthinkable, but there it was, trying to break out. ‘Really? Most interesting. Tell me what it is you wish to do.’

~~~

‘I want to put forward an amendment to have all current security organisations dealing with the public to be governed by the same regulations as the regional forces,’ Fox said. ‘It would cover private parks with public access, all residential buildings, and anyone mounting street patrols for whatever reason.’

There were frowns all around the table, though less so from Vaughn who nodded as she frowned. Eaves spoke. ‘It’s going to mean additional overhead for our current operations.’

‘Yes, but it’s likely to push out the smaller operators and open up new sites for us. In addition, we can press to extend the time we have to investigate internally before we call in NAPA, and it strengthens the argument for access to NAPA case files and information.’

‘We could run the numbers and see what the pros and cons are,’ Vaughn suggested.

‘Do it,’ Eaves said without further thought. ‘Fox, you’re going to have to come up with the draft amendments here for the legal department to go over.’

Fox grimaced. ‘I figured you’d say that. You mind if I draft them and then you redraft them? I’m pretty damn sure I’ll get it wrong.’

‘I’ll be happy to look them over. Copy to Ryan and he can give them a look too.’

Jarvis glowered across the virtual table at Fox, his expression somewhat marred by the twinkle in his eyes. ‘First a development project to run and now this?’

Fox held up her hands. ‘Sorry. Oh, I’m going to call Topeka later and see what the regional view is on the regs. Maybe they’ve seen something we haven’t.’

‘Good call,’ Eaves agreed. ‘And you do have an in with the locals.’

‘I sure do.’

~~~

Sister Hillary narrowed her eyes a little at Marie. ‘I understood, Sister Marie, that this was your first week.’ Hillary was a House Sister, a little older than many of the women in the chapter house, and not in the least ashamed of the odd wrinkle that showed on her face. She taught etiquette, savoir faire, and a few other similar subjects, and she had a reputation as a hard taskmaster.

Marie did not bow her head, because she was focusing on keeping her chin up and her back straight as she walked through a sensor grid which was checking her posture. ‘It is, Sister Hillary, but I’ve had a few deportment classes before.’

‘I see.’

‘Technically it was walking for a role. If you’d like “slouching vagrant” or “femme fatale in killer heels,” I can do those too.’

Hillary’s lips twitched. ‘I don’t believe we have a need for the former, and the latter will be in tomorrow’s class. Now, relax a little. We’re aiming for a smooth but formal appearance rather than something from a Swiss finishing school. Be thankful we have this technology to determine success or failure. When I learned this, it was with a pile of textbooks perched on my head.’

‘That’s how I learned it,’ Marie admitted. ‘My acting coach is a little old school.’

‘It hasn’t done you any harm. Keep practising. Sister Gilly…’ Gilly set herself at the start of the sensor track and then began to walk, a look of barely suppressed terror on her face. ‘Excellent!’ Hillary said. ‘Someone I can abuse for our art. Shoulders back, girl, shoulders back.’ There was a crack as Hillary employed the riding crop she seemed to carry everywhere to slap Gilly between the shoulder blades.

Marie decided that she was really glad of the lessons she had taken previously.

~~~

‘Hey, Mom,’ Fox said as her mother’s image appeared across from the sofa. ‘Dad joining us?’

‘As soon as he’s got his headset sorted out,’ Andrea Meridian replied. She bent forward, coppery braids swinging out around her narrow face like curtains. ‘He’s getting an implant put in,’ she mock whispered.

Jonathan’s avatar appeared beside his wife, not visibly wearing a VR visor, but there had to be one there in real life. ‘I can hear you, you know? Afternoon, Fox.’

‘Hey, Dad. I thought you were too old to have things drilled into your brain.’

‘I looked into the latest procedures and it doesn’t look as bad as I thought. And I can’t deny the utility, even for running my equipment out in the fields. Getting a MarTech VirtAI eleven. I’m told it’s the best.’

Fox grinned at him. ‘That depends on what you need it for, but Jackson doesn’t let a product out the door unless he’s happy with it. Kit swears by it, not that she’s ever run on one.’

Kit, of course, popped into the conversation instantly. ‘The VirtAI series,’ she said, ‘is AI-ready, with a dedicated processor for neural network tasks and with quantum emulation capabilities, and it has received an aggregate average nine point six customer satisfaction score. Good afternoon, Mister and Mrs Meridian.’

‘Afternoon, Kit,’ Jonathan responded, ‘and if you recommend that model, I’ve obviously made the right choice. I’m not putting a VA on it yet. I figure it’s one step at a time.’

‘Hello, Kit,’ Andrea said. ‘I hope you’re looking after my daughter.’

‘As best I can, Mrs Meridian,’ Kit replied, smiling.

‘It’s tough,’ Fox said, ‘but she’s persistent. Okay, so you got your resolution passed, Mom. How do you think the legislation is working out?’

‘Well…’ Andrea frowned a little. ‘Your father and I think it’s going fairly well, though there are a number of amendments we’re concerned about. A few of the more, um, enthusiastic Watch supporters are up in arms about being tied down by red tape.’

‘Kind of what I expected. What are the amendments you’re worried about?’

‘The one fixing encryption standards,’ Jonathan said. ‘Not my area of expertise, but it looked… dubious.’

‘It is,’ Fox replied. ‘We have a counter-amendment going through. We’re suggesting the use of any internationally recognised encryption system.’

‘There is the approved weapons list,’ Andrea said. ‘We’re not too good on guns, to be honest. Jonathan knows his hunting rifles…’

‘And shotguns,’ Jonathan added. ‘There’s a couple of those on the list, but no hunting rifles, unless you count the McCallum fourteen seventy-three.’

‘That’s a sniper railgun, Dad.’

‘Make a helluva hunting rifle.’

‘It’d more or less melt your target!’

‘Pre-cooked!’ Apparently Jonathan’s headset was sophisticated enough to pick up facial expressions, because his avatar was grinning like a maniac.

‘Point is, what’s a high-calibre, anti-materiel rifle doing on a list for use by local law enforcement? Kit, give me the list, would you?’ Kit pushed up the list as a virtual display and Fox scanned over it. ‘I haven’t really looked at this. I guess I’d have got around to it, but… Guided minimissiles with shaped-charge warheads? And that’s a point-defence emplacement. Rapid-fire, automated radar and ladar targeting.’

‘Good hunting equipment, obviously.’

‘Yeah, if you’re setting up to hunt soldiers, sure. Maybe defending against drone attacks. These are civil defence weapons with a collection of suitable handguns and rifles tossed in. Hell, if we’re trying to put together a modern policing agency, the standard sidearm should be an electrolaser.’

‘I’m not familiar.’

‘They use a high-frequency laser, twin beams, to create an ionisation channel and push several thousand volts down it.’

‘A laser taser?’

‘Basically, I guess. There were trials of them in NAPA. They work. They’re not totally safe, but neither are tasers, and both tend to leave more people alive than bullets. I’m not saying you don’t need the option of lethal force…’

‘I think we can all agree that military-class munitions are a little… excessive,’ Andrea said.

‘I’d still like one of those sniper rifles,’ Jonathan said. ‘It’d really be great for gophers.’

‘Gophers?’ Fox said. ‘You want to vaporise gophers with a railgun.’

‘Well… less clean-up.’

‘Damn. Now I know where I get it from.’

~~~

‘Read ’em and weep, ladies.’ Niamh laid down her hole cards and everyone immediately spotted the straight.

With a grunt of displeasure, Marie began taking off her tunic, which was going to leave her in skirt, stockings, and suspender belt, but at least she was doing better than the night before. She had her strategy worked out and folded when she was unsure, thus saving her bet, but she had been sure her three-of-a-kind would win and Niamh had beaten it. Then again, Niamh had fooled two of the others as well.

‘So,’ Marie said, mostly to keep the conversation going, ‘why did you become a Sister, Niamh?’

‘I started out doing the course. I was going to go the dominatrix route. That’s still the plan, but… I just kind of realised I liked the ideals.’ She grinned. ‘I’m not the most religious person out there, but the Sisters… The whole thing kind of called to me. No blinding light and voice from on high or anything… I don’t know. It felt right.’

‘Sister Naomi,’ Gilly said and Niamh nodded. ‘Even if you’re not planning to go into bondage, she’s like…’

‘An inspiration,’ DeeDee finished for her. ‘She’s confident, intelligent, always in control…’

‘Everything a woman should be,’ Niamh stated, ‘never mind a registered prostitute. And I’m not talking about her body or face. She’s got this strength, like she really is touched by God. She’s the kind of person you’d follow into Hell, just because she asked you to.’

‘I don’t believe she’ll require that of you,’ Demeter said, ‘unless Hell is in the Jersey Housing Complex.’ She started flicking cards out from the deck.

‘Pretty sure Satan has a summer home there,’ Gilly replied. ‘That’s where I was raised and I know we’re not that far away here, but it’s like it’s on another planet.’ She flashed Marie a grin. ‘I wanted to come here when I was old enough to know what a prostitute was. I’d see girls doing it illegally and I kind of knew I’d end up like that if I wasn’t careful. I did some, uh, modelling to keep off my back and when I was almost old enough, I came here. Sister Naomi interviewed me. I was trying to be so cool and mature, and she saw right through me. Told me I could join as a novice, but there would be no training until I was eighteen.’

‘So you’ve been here a while?’ Marie glanced at her hole cards. ‘Fold.’

‘You give in too easy. Almost two years now, but I’ll be licensed soon. I’ll work in the brothel for a year or two, get some experience and build my skills, and then see about building a client list.’

‘You all work in the brothel, right?’

‘Everyone with a licence who lives here puts in at least one shift a week,’ Demeter said. ‘Well, House Sisters and above are exempt, but most do it, even Sister Naomi. The house takes seventy per cent of the fee, but the girls get to keep any additional tips, and room and board are free, of course. The money goes to running the Church.’

‘I almost wish I could do a shift myself. I know I can’t, but it seems like it’s an integral part of being here.’

‘We might be able to arrange something which would not be illegal and wouldn’t test your morals too much. I’ll speak to Sister Naomi.’

‘Oh. Thanks.’ Marie sat back, wondering what Demeter might be planning.

18th August.

‘The question I’m asking is “who compiled that weapons list?”’ Fox said. ‘It’s in the original proposals, not the amendments, so who in the administration suggested arming cops with point-defence turrets?’

‘I can make some enquiries,’ Eaves replied. ‘I’m guessing that your view on this is similar to mine, however.’

‘NIX.’ Fox frowned. ‘But why?’

There was no immediate answer from anyone. ‘I’ll set about doing the rewrite,’ Jarvis said. ‘I know what we need.’

‘Electrolasers as the primary sidearm,’ Fox told him. ‘Keep the bullets for special operations.’

Jarvis gave a nod. ‘You know those things can be set for a lethal charge.’

‘Yes, but it’s a conscious decision to use it. If someone does, then it can be put to a test of justifiable force. Firearms take skill and luck to use in a non-lethal manner, and relying on that is a sure-fire way of getting someone killed, usually the cop.’

‘Don’t have to tell me twice. I’ll run the lists and reasoning past you when I’m done.’

‘Great. One other thing came up which might be worth following up on. My parents think a little face-to-face with the people in Topeka might be worth our while, and theirs. With Druss and his cronies out of the picture, the climate there is… inclined more to our outlook. And there’s the other thing.’

‘We get a foot in the door when it comes to supplying them,’ Eaves said.

‘We already have a foot, but this could give us a whole leg. Maybe some of you could go down. I’d be quite willing to fly over there, obviously.’

‘You and Ryan. We’ll make arrangements for next week, I think. I’m wondering whether we should put out feelers to some of the other cities, even the smaller settlements. Aside from the fact that it’s good PR, making sure everyone has a say and that some weight is put behind what they want if we see eye-to-eye, it’s not impossible that some minor thing we haven’t considered could be important.’

‘We may not agree with the change in legislation,’ Vaughn said, ‘but Palladium is going to make sure it meets the needs of the people who voted for it, not large corporations like ours.’

‘Exactly. Good PR and what we want to achieve. Win-win.’

‘And we introduce ourselves before the bidding starts,’ Fox added. ‘Win-win-win.’

Eaves smiled. ‘That’s another good point. Any other business?’

No one spoke for a second, so Fox did, changing the subject. ‘Helen wrapped that investigation in Berlin yesterday. She’ll be back in the main tower soon to give her report. I’ll let you know if anything needs doing, but the preliminary report was that the German cops were handling it.’

‘I saw that,’ Jarvis said. ‘Looks like it was a tough one to dig out, but she did a good job.’

‘Helen’s a solid detective. I think she was kind of happy to do something that didn’t involve a dead body.’

~~~

Marie trooped down the corridor to her next class, Gilly beside her since they were going to the same place. The sight of Sam standing outside the theatre door was something of a surprise, if not an unpleasant one.

‘Sam? I wasn’t expecting to see you here,’ Marie smiled and then, since there was no rule against it, leaned forward and pushed up on her toes a little to place a quick kiss on his lips. There was a tiny cough from just behind Marie’s right shoulder. ‘Oh, this is Sister Gilly. She’s one of my roomies.’

‘Good morning, Sister,’ Sam said, favouring her with a smile.

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Gilly replied, grinning. ‘Very pleased.’

‘How are things going, Marie?’

‘Oh, uh… I think they’re going pretty well.’

‘She’s doing great,’ Gilly put in. ‘It’s like she really is one of us. Not afraid of the more mundane side of things, like some novices, and I don’t think I’ve seen an instructor displeased with her.’

‘Well,’ Marie said, ‘I try.’

‘Trying is generally the important part when you start,’ Sam said. ‘You’re supposed to learn the techniques, after all. If you could do everything before you started, what would be the point in the instructors?’

‘Good point. So you just came in to check up on me?’

‘I did not. I’ve every confidence in your abilities. However, given that you are not intending to turn professional, Naomi thought it might be wise for me to partner with you for your next class.’

‘Lucky…’ Gilly muttered.

The inevitability of eventually having a class where she was supposed to behave in some sort of sexual manner with another man had been looming over Marie since she had taken a proper look at the Wednesday class schedule. Actual intercourse was not part of the class, which was titled ‘Bedroom Etiquette – Practical,’ but Gilly had told her it would get pretty close. ‘I sort of psyched myself up to doing it with someone I’d never met before,’ Marie said.

‘If you think that would be better…’ Sam said.

‘Don’t be stupid!’ Gilly squeaked. ‘He’s one of the best instructors here and he’s gorgeous.’ Her cheeks coloured a little after she realised she had said that in front of Sam, but she kept her eyes on Marie, standing her ground.

‘Well, put like that…’ Marie mused. ‘Of course, there is a problem.’

‘What? What could possibly be a problem with having to practise seduction techniques with Sam Clarion?’

‘Stopping,’ Marie said before she turned to the door.

Gilly stood there for a second, her mouth opening and then closing. Sam watched her considering, a smirk on his lips. ‘Do you think there’s time to get popcorn?’ Gilly finally asked.

~~~

Helen Dillan sat at the big conference room table, her eyes on the large window overlooking the central park at the top of the MarTech tower. Fox was used to seeing the Chinese-American girl in leather, but there had been an expansion in wardrobe since Dillan had joined Palladium. Fox had done the same, broadening her standard range of outfits since she was less likely to get shot at on the job now. Still, it was a little odd seeing Dillan in a light, summer dress.

Then again, it was not impossible that the choice of outfit was to do with the woman walking in behind Fox. Teresa Martins had formed quite a solid attachment to Dillan and, despite Dillan thinking of herself as basically heterosexual, the affection was shared. They still called it ‘random dating,’ but Terri had put effort into taking the meeting from her father so that she could welcome Dillan back and hear the debrief.

Dillan looked around and smiled, getting to her feet as her two friends entered. ‘Hi, Terri. How’s the reading going, boss?’

‘Don’t ask,’ Fox replied while Terri closed the gap to her girlfriend as rapidly as decorum allowed and planted a kiss on her lips.

‘Welcome back, Helen,’ Terri said, a slight husky quality in her voice.

‘I can come back in thirty minutes,’ Fox suggested.

‘I’ve only been away for nine days,’ Dillan said. ‘I figure we can wait until after the debrief for…’

‘Debriefing?’

‘Ha ha. Not wearing any.’ Terri gave out a little whimper and Dillan smirked as she continued. ‘I finalised the full report on the flight, so you have all the details.’

‘I’ll go over it. It’ll be a change from legislation. Give us the summary.’

‘Fairly classic,’ Dillan replied, settling into her seat. ‘Inside job, just like we thought, but tracking down who did it and who they were selling to was tough. They knew what they were doing. Once we figured out how they were hiding the loss of the equipment they were stealing, however, it led us to someone with the authority to pull that off.’

‘And once you had the top guy, he folded on everyone else?’

‘Damn straight. Some of the lower-level drones had UA sympathies that weren’t caught in the background checks, but the top guy was in it for the money.’

‘Who were they selling to?’ Terri asked.

‘Anyone who wanted the kit. Mostly through the black market to companies who’d never be able to afford the stuff otherwise, but we know they sold a couple of gene sequencers to an eco-terror group, Green Dawn, and they shipped something, we’re still not sure what, into the South African Federation. Mostly they were stealing stuff that hadn’t gone online, or had been decommissioned, but they got greedy and took some genemodding gadget out of a lab that was in use.’

‘Stupid.’

‘Big payout, or so they thought. We tracked it. German cops are nailing both ends of the transaction and raiding various other addresses.’

‘Your first corporate investigation,’ Fox said. ‘A complete success.’

‘Not complete. We never did track that African deal down, but the liaison with the German authorities worked well and we nailed the entire ring. I put some recommendations in the report to try to limit this kind of thing in the future.’

‘Ryan kind of things?’

‘Ryan’s and MarTech’s recruitment department. Some of these guys should have been spotted before they got near one of our buildings.’

‘I’ll see to that personally,’ Terri said, ‘right after our lunch meeting.’

Dillan blinked. ‘We have a lunch meeting?’

‘Uh-huh. My room, thirty minutes. With dessert. I made sure there was whipped cream.’

‘Terri, are you trying to corrupt my staff?’ Fox asked.

‘Well, I failed on you and I have a reputation to uphold.’

‘No you don’t.’

‘I’d like to have a reputation to uphold?’

‘Just don’t break her or I’ll make you buy me a new one.’

Terri inscribed a cross over her chest. ‘Promise.’ Then she spoiled it by adding, ‘Well, maybe just a little bit.’

~~~

Yoga was not something Marie had ever tried before, but she was doing okay and even considering trying to keep it up after her week was done. She was naturally flexible so the bending was pretty easy: so far the instructor had not asked her to do anything which stressed her too much. The hard bit was the balancing. Standing forward bends, all the pigeon poses, even the one where she was bent over with her chest on the floor in box splits… no problem. Tree stance with one leg tucked up against her hip had her wobbling. She could get herself into position, but maintaining it was not so easy.

Her mind was not helping. She kept flicking back to the morning class with Sam. Maybe because it had been Sam she was working with, she had found it easy to shut out everyone else in the room and focus on what she was being told and getting on with performing. She had been seeing Sam for weeks, but that hour in class had been one of the most erotic experiences she could recall having with him. The comment about not being able to stop had been a joke, but it had been close to the truth. She thought Sam had felt the same and it worried her a little.

The truth was that she had not been putting the effort into their relationship Sam deserved. He was good in bed. He was incredible in bed. And outside of it he was smooth, sophisticated, a gentleman with a wild, roguish quality when there was the need for it. He did not push and he seemed quite happy with how things were, but Marie was sure she could do better. And that class had really shown her that she could and should be putting more effort in. If nothing else, she was sure that if she did, the result would be incredible for both of them.

The thought had occurred to her that she had been more active with Fox. That had worried her more for a little while, but she had concluded that it was a combination of novelty, since Fox had been her first female partner, and Sam’s training. There was a great temptation with Sam to just let him work your body like the virtuoso he was. He was just so good at it. But that time was done. It was time, Marie thought, to show her man what she could do.

‘Breathing, Marie,’ the instructor said in a patient tone. ‘Focus on your breathing.’

‘Yes, Sister,’ Marie replied and, because her mind was settled with the decision, she did.

~~~

Fox’s shower was a walk-in design: open doorways on either side of the large hot tub bath let you into a space where you could be deluged with water and then dried with air blowers. There were frosted-glass screens which let you look out onto the room, but Fox felt secure in the house and rarely looked out. When she stepped out of the shower and found Jason leaning against the wall, one of her eyebrows went up.

‘You didn’t think to mention he was here?’ Fox asked silently.

‘He asked me to let him surprise you and he is not carrying a sidearm, according to Belle.’

‘You’re not armed?’ Fox asked aloud.

‘I need a gun to visit here?’

‘No, I just… I guess I’m used to cops and you’re more of… a special cop.’ She glanced back at the screens. ‘Good view?’

‘It was somewhat obscured, but you know that hints are often sexier than the full view.’

Fox smiled and walked past him to the door. ‘Yeah, I’d heard that. How’s the full view?’

‘Sometimes the hints do not do it justice.’ He followed behind her as she walked and so was right at her back when she stopped, hands on the doorframe. He rested his hands on her hips and she felt her breathing quicken. She heard him chuckle. ‘Here or the bedroom?’ he said.

Fox felt her heart drop into her guts. Ice filled her veins and a thousand tiny claws pricked her scalp. Her throat dried up and she knew she stiffened because he said, ‘Fox?’ and there was concern in his voice. She pulled away from him, backed up against the far wall of the corridor, and held up her hands to keep him back.

‘Just… Just give me a minute. Give me… a minute, just a minute.’

‘Fox, what’s wrong? Did I say something–’

‘It’s not you,’ she said quickly. ‘Give me a minute.’

He nodded and backed into the bathroom. Fox kept a robe hanging on the door and he took it, holding it out at arm’s length for her. His face was neutral. She knew he was doing his best to keep it that way: she could see the strain, what it was costing him to give her room, to keep what she suspected might be pity but knew was concern off his face. She pulled on the robe. It was short and she wished it was longer, and at the same time did not. Jason had done nothing wrong, would not do anything wrong, and she was safe with him. She was safe…

‘C-could you go downstairs? Sam has whiskey a-and I could use one. I’ll be in the lounge.’

Jason nodded once and turned for the back of the house where the stairs were. When he returned holding a bottle and two glasses, Fox was curled up on the sofa, holding a cushion in her lap like a life preserver.

‘Sit beside me,’ Fox said. Her voice was calm now, but she waited until he had taken a seat, poured her a glass of whiskey, which she downed immediately, and then poured another before she went on. ‘There was a man. Josh Sandoval.’

‘The cop you shot in self-defence. There were reports and I read them.’

Fox nodded. ‘I’d expect you to check up on me. What’s not in the report is that he was NIX and we had sex a couple of times. We were up at a resort on that UA case. Wolfeboro, high-end place. MarTech has a suite there for corporate retreats and such. Terri said we could use it since we were late finishing up there. Sandoval cooked and then… It just happened. I was hot. I went for a swim, naked, and he was watching me when I got out. I wanted him to…’ She shook her head. ‘It just wasn’t like me. It was wild. Insane. We went at it like… like dogs. I figured it was just stress relief. The case was tough, people were dying, there was nothing I could do until the morning…’

She flicked a glance at him and saw something, some sort of recognition. Jason thought he knew where the story was going, but he was letting her tell it. ‘I figured it was a one-off, but then he came to my apartment one evening. I cooked and then… I threw myself at him. I wanted him so bad it almost hurt. When I woke up, I was hyper, distracted, couldn’t remember exactly what had happened. Kit didn’t think it was right and she took the wine glasses, got them sent to Jackson for analysis.’

‘There is a drug which leaked onto the streets a few years back. They call it Cupie.’

‘Jackson explained. A dopamine agonist combined with a CB-one agonist. It hypes the libido, and inhibits inhibitions, critical thinking, and long-term memory function. Side effects include increased body temperature. He doped the food the first time. We were both on it. He knew he was going to kill me after the second dose and he wanted me suffering the after effects, so he dosed my wine. Hyperactivity, mood swings, memory loss… Everything you don’t need in a gun fight. Jackson was able to counter them.’

‘And you shot him when he came for you.’

‘I did.’ She paused. ‘The first time, when he came to me after the swim. I stopped in the doorway and he came up behind me. He said… He said…’

‘Here or in the bedroom?’

‘A-and I got down on my… my knees…’ Fox could feel herself folding again and pulled in a deep breath to steady herself.

‘I am so sorry, Fox.’

She reached out, cupping his cheek. ‘You have nothing to apologise for. And he paid with his life for r- For what he did. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.’

Jason gave a slow nod. ‘I can leave or stay. If you’d prefer to be alone, I’d understand.’

‘No, I want you to stay. I want to have another drink and I want you to make love to me. Make love. It’s something Sandoval never did.’

20th August.

Walking was a little difficult. Nothing too bad, but Marie was still feeling a little uncomfortable when she was summoned to Sister Naomi’s rooms. Naomi presumably knew the class schedule and smiled when Marie walked in.

‘The discomfort passes quickly enough and you do get used to it, should you wish to entertain in that manner in the future,’ Naomi said.

‘I can’t imagine why anyone would, though I hear some men like it.’

‘Men imagine women do. Some actually do, but it’s like any other form of sexual activity: it depends upon your tastes. Sit, the chairs are quite comfortable.’

Marie took a seat, thankful of the padding.

‘So, your time here is almost over,’ Naomi said.

‘I guess. I’m staying tonight, right?’

‘Your choice. We’ll be happy to have you. I’ve asked your instructors and they were all pleased with you.’

‘Well, I was trying to “live the role,” I guess. There was no point in being here if I didn’t get a feel for what it’s like to be a Sister.’

‘And do you think you have?’

Marie nodded. ‘There’s the classes and the sex, of course, which is what most people think is what happens here. But there’s the sense of duty to the profession, and the friendship everyone seems to have. It’s serious and fun at the same time. I talked to a few of the licensed Sisters, about the job. Sister Demeter arranged for me to sit in the control room and watch some of the brothel feeds. It’s not always glamorous and it’s not always wonderful sex. I knew that from Sam before I came here, but I know more now. I know some of them only get through the day-to-day because they have their friends to help them through it. I can’t imagine what it was like before legalisation.’

‘I can,’ Naomi said. ‘My mother was a prostitute before it was legalised.’

‘I know. It came up.’

‘It was hard for her, but it never turned her hard which it did to some. Now, as then, it depends entirely on the woman, or man, turning tricks. Look at Sam. He’s been doing this for over a decade and he’s never lost what was essentially him.’ She frowned. ‘No, I lie. For a time, he was a little lost. He’s always been compassionate, caring, generous with his forgiveness, and as smooth as anyone I’ve ever met, of course. But he lost the capacity to enjoy the relationship between two people who care for one another.’ Naomi pointed at Marie. ‘You gave that back to him.’

Marie shook her head. ‘No. Okay, maybe a little, but it was Fox. Fox gave me up when Sam decided he might want something more from me. It hurt her to do it, but she did anyway, because he’s her friend.’

‘I am going to have to make it a point to get to know your Fox better. She sounds like a very interesting woman.’

Marie grinned. ‘I think she might like that, because you’re a very interesting woman too.’

25th August.

Fox watched the preview screens in the control room with a slightly amused smile on her face. The subject matter was serious, but the dialogue was a little on the stilted side and about as accurate as vids got when it came to portrayals of cops at work.

‘Where’s your buddy, Daker?’ she asked over her shoulder.

Nathan Shark, producer, smiled his gleaming, white smile. ‘At home, up to his eyeballs in rewrites.’

‘Oh?’

‘Uh-huh. Our Sister of Corruption came in and made a bunch of suggestions to improve the script. Adrian spent half an hour listening to her talking about her stay with them, moaned, and ran off to change things. We’re filming the stuff he doesn’t think needs to be rewritten from scratch first. Joys of editing, we can shoot in any order we like.’

‘I’m glad you were willing to accommodate Marie’s suggestions.’

‘Yeah, well…’ He lowered his voice. ‘She’s miles better than the other actors, she’s done the research, and we want this to work. This is our big chance, just like it’s hers. She’s committed to the project and I’m not stupid enough to ignore things which make our heroine more sympathetic to the audience. There are one or two people who think the idea of having a Sister as the protagonist is never going to work.’

Fox shrugged. ‘Everyone has their prejudices. Asking Sam to consult was a nice move too. Shame you didn’t ask me to do the same on the cops.’

Shark winced. ‘If I’d known you would have, I’d have asked.’

‘Honestly, I’m up to my eyeballs in legislation. I took the morning out to come down because I needed a break. Is Marie shooting today?’

‘Next scene. If we ever get this one wrapped. We always knew M. J. was going to be the make-or-break character for the production and we were worried about casting Marie. I’ll admit it. Untried actress, we had worries. She’s nailing the scenes, making M. J. work how we’d hoped, and she looks great in the costume.’

‘Yeah, I’ve seen her in the novices’ uniform. It’s the legs. Girl has legs to die for. When’s this due to stream?’

‘First of October, eleven p.m. slot. We’re screening it for some clients, ad sales, before then. That’s when we’ll really know if it’s going to work. If we can sell it to them, we can get repeat showings and on-demand slots, and prove that harder-hitting, more adult shows can work on the channel.’

‘Good luck,’ Fox said, watching the screen. She winced. ‘But get a consultant for the detective work next time, would you?’

~~~

The storage room was dark and silent, and largely left that way. Hospitals always had things which were no longer needed, but maybe someone could use, sometime, probably just after Hell froze over. This was the place they ended up, deep in the basement.

The sound, when it came, was sudden. Plastic ripped, rent apart by something sharp. Then there was rustling, a sharp snap, and footsteps in the darkness. The door opened and a tall figure stepped into the light beyond. He paused, checking the corridor, and then closed the door. And only then did he lift his right hand and watch the slim blades slip back into hiding in his fingertips.

His head turned once more, examining the corridor. An illuminated sign, no v-tags buried away down here, indicated the way out and he set off toward it with a purpose. In the world above, there was work to be done, his work, the one and only purpose he had. In the world above, people were going to die.

Part Two: Jack

New York Metro, 30th September 2060.

Sister Georgina Parton was in a good mood. Her last client, a financial consultant in one of the arcologies near JFK, had given her a good tip. Even if she had earned it, the guy had some interesting kinks to say the least, she was always pleased to make that much over the going rate. She would put a little extra into the chapter house funds this month. Her next client was a fit, very flexible, widow who would ask her to stay the night and lived in an apartment block a short walk from the vast spire she had come from. In ten minutes, Georgina would be drinking wine and getting ready for a night of enthusiastic sex.

Smiling, she allowed the slideway to carry her to street level and started north at a brisk pace. The area here was fairly safe, though there were Sprawl regions to the west. It was best to keep your eyes open, and Georgina put her hand in her purse where she kept a can of antimugging spray. When she saw the man walking toward her on the street, she considered taking out the spray, just in case, but then she got a better look at him. Tall, holding himself erect, and dressed in a long black coat which looked expensive. In the light from a street lamp, she made out sharply creased trousers and the kind of high collar that was in fashion for the wealthier man this year. Not a sprawler: Georgina relaxed.

She smiled, lifting her face, as the distance closed between them. The man smiled back. He was quite easy on the eye: sculpted features and short, blue-black hair. And Georgina felt an element of uncertainty as she saw his face with its perfectly formed structure, but by then it was too late. His arm swung and light glinted from metal blades, and Georgina Parton’s throat was opened up from one side to the other.

As she fell, clutching frantically at her neck in an attempt to stem the flow of blood, the man grabbed her and dragged her into a nearby alley. Even as Georgina’s vision faded into darkness, she felt him slicing at her clothes and knew she was about to die.

~~~

Fox walked into the chapter house wondering what she was doing there. The summons had come just after ten a.m. and was marked as urgent. It had come directly from Sister Naomi. Fox went straight to the Sister on duty at the front desk, opened her mouth…

‘Miss Meridian,’ the receptionist said, ‘Sister Naomi is expecting you. Go straight up.’

‘Right.’ Fox looked at the girl, noting the sombre expression. ‘I don’t suppose you have some idea what this is about?’

‘Yes, ma’am. It’s about murder. Sister Naomi will tell you everything.’

Naomi was not smiling, nor was her expression that of the haughty dominatrix. She looked worried. After pouring coffee, she settled herself on the couch in her room, but she leaned forward, elbows on her knees and hands clasped into fists.

‘The receptionist said murder,’ Fox said when Naomi did not speak.

‘Sister Georgina Parton was found dead this morning. NAPA are being circumspect about the details, even with us, but they’ve assigned Detective Rutherford of precinct seventeen to the case despite the fact that the body was found within precinct nineteen. Rutherford caught a case earlier in the month, a prostitute found murdered and mutilated, and another one on the seventeenth, this time an unregistered sprawler. We assume that Sister Georgina is part of the same sequence.’

‘NAPA normally assign an inspector to serial cases.’

‘Not this time. We’ve pressed for a resolution on this. When the first one came up, we made contact with NAPA and… expressed our opinion that the murder and mutilation of a prostitute suggested a serial killer might be operating.’

‘And they told you to mind your own business. Now they’ve got one, officially.’

‘The continued assignment of Detective Rutherford is not inspiring confidence in their investigation.’

Fox looked at her. ‘And you’d like me to stick my nose in. NAPA are not going–’

‘NAPA are not doing their job, Fox. I couldn’t take a direct hand in this before, but now he’s killed one of mine.’

Fox bit at her lip, thinking. ‘The new legislation goes live on the eighth of October. Then I can get access to the case files. Without them, I’m working entirely in the dark unless this detective wants to give me them.’

‘I can get you the data.’

‘Do I want to know how?’

Naomi shrugged. ‘People owe me favours. You’d make it official on the eighth, but I can get the data before then.’

‘Okay. Get me what you can and I’ll see what I can do. I’ll go talk to Detective Rutherford and see if she’s willing to share any information. Her captain will be bugging her about clean-up rates, so she may be willing to take the help.’

Naomi grimaced. ‘From what I hear, I doubt it.’

~~~

Detective Madelaine Rutherford was a slight sort of woman, an attractive blonde with blue eyes and a distracted, almost annoyed, look to her face. She took Fox to a small conference room off the bullpen where the detectives in her unit were housed, sat down, and glared.

Since she did not seem inclined to start, Fox did. ‘Palladium has been asked to look into the death of Sister Georgina Parton. I understand that’s your case.’

‘Yeah, one of eight outstanding cases I’m working on. One of which is someone supplying Titan to kids in North Queens.’

Fox took a second to consider and then said, ‘So the death of a hooker doesn’t rate highly on your radar.’

Rutherford stared at her. ‘The death of any citizen of this metro is of concern to NAPA.’

Fox smiled. ‘Of course. Since my company has been contracted to look into this, I am able to offer our resources in the investigation. We have considerable resources.’

‘Not required.’

‘As you wish. I’d appreciate access to the case–’

‘Out of the question. NAPA does not provide active case files to–’

‘I’m going to get them in eight days, Detective. In eight days, I can have access to any case, active or inactive, providing that I can show reason, and I can. Why not help out a little early? I can’t arrest the guy, it’ll be yours if I find him, and I don’t have three murders to solve with more on the way.’ Fox saw the woman’s lips twitch slightly: there was something Fox did not know and Rutherford was amused. ‘I’m sure your captain is keen to get these homicides off his books.’

‘I’ll take it up with him,’ Rutherford said, not meaning a word of it. ‘He’ll say no.’

‘What can you tell me about Georgina Parton’s death?’

‘Details of active cases are not up for discussion.’

‘My understanding of the previous deaths is that they had their throats slit and then their bodies were mutilated. Someone discussed some of the details, because the first one was reported in the media. Gruesome corpses are always newsworthy. Disembowelled was what was reported.’

‘No comment.’

Fox got to her feet. ‘Thank you for your time, Detective. In return, some advice. Make sure your case files look good, because if I read them and think you’ve fucked up the investigation, I’ll put a complaint through that’ll have you busted down to rookie. Good day.’

‘She did not look happy when we left,’ Kit said inside Fox’s head as they went down in the elevator.

‘NAPA may be concerned about the death of any citizen, but she isn’t. The trouble is that there’s fuck all we can do until we have data to work with. Did Naomi send over Parton’s personal file?’

‘Yes. Primary me is busy setting up a murder room using it.’

‘Okay, find out what she was doing before she was killed. If she was with a client, see if we can get an interview.’

There was a short pause and then, ‘The chapter house received a call from one client asking why Sister Georgina failed to arrive for an appointment. I also have the name of the client before that one.’

‘Okay, arrange interviews for both.’

~~~

‘Thank you for seeing me so quickly, Mrs Lorie,’ Fox said as she sat down in the offered chair. Philippa Lorie was probably forty or so, but she had had a fair bit of work done to keep herself looking younger, and she clearly worked out from the trim, fit body she was not concealing especially well under a thin robe. It was noticeable that her pale blue eyes were reddened: she had been crying.

‘I can’t believe Georgina’s dead. And on the way to see me!’

‘I understand you rang the chapter house this morning to enquire after her?’

Lorie nodded. ‘I was a little angry. I was expecting her at eleven, but I was going to ask her to stay the night. She often did when she could and I enjoyed her company. She reminded me of my wife… Uh, well, I wasn’t worried too much when she was late and I’d had some wine. I fell asleep on the sofa, woke up around three and she still hadn’t shown up or called. So I went to bed and called the Sisters first thing. They said they’d enquire after her and then they called back and… and told me she’d been killed.’ Lorie’s eyes were brimming again and, as far as Fox could gather, the tears were quite genuine.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Lorie.’

‘Thank you. Georgina was my favourite. I almost exclusively used her. My wife died three years ago and I just can’t bring myself to date again yet, but a woman has needs…’ There was just a hint of embarrassment in her voice, a desire to justify herself.

‘I don’t judge, Mrs Lorie. One of my closest friends is a registered prostitute. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve nothing to be ashamed of. I didn’t know Georgina, but I’m going to do everything I can to catch the man who did this.’

‘I’m sure you will. I’ve seen you on the news feeds, Miss Meridian. I’m sure you’ll do your best. I can’t believe it happened so close to here. When I heard from the Sisters, I looked out. You could see the police all over an alley just south of here. Another block or two and she would have been safe with me. Just another block or two…’

Fox was not especially good at comforting distraught people, so she thanked Mrs Lorie for her help and headed down to the street, walking south to where the body had been found.

That something had happened there was fairly obvious because the city had gone through and removed every last trace. The sidewalk had been scoured in a three-metre radius, so had a nearby wall, and then the trail of cleansed ground moved into the alley. He had, Fox guessed, slit her throat out on the street, in plain view, but at eleven at night in this neighbourhood it was unlikely that he would be seen. Then he had dragged her ten or so metres into the alley as she bled out. Whatever ‘mutilation’ had been carried out, it had happened there: the ground had been cleaned to a near-sparkling shine to remove any evidence.

Fox let out an exasperated grunt. ‘This is fucking awful police work. I’d imagine she’s under pressure, but I’d have had this entire area screened off instead of letting them sandblast the whole place.’

‘It seems that the metro authorities want the deaths kept as quiet as possible.’

‘Someone out murdering and mutilating women he comes across? Yeah. Okay, so he seems to be targeting prostitutes, but how does he know they are? He could get it wrong and anyone could be a target.’ Fox frowned. ‘How does he know? The first was a street girl, right?’

‘That’s what the media said. The second was a sprawler so the same probably applies.’

‘But Sister Georgina was doing out-calls. How did he know that the woman he saw walking down the street was a target?’

1st October.

‘I know why Detective Rutherford was amused,’ Kit said as Fox entered the virtual room which had been set up for the murders.

Fox saw it almost immediately too. ‘Four dead. She has four murders by the same killer.’

‘Yes. Sister Naomi sent over the file in the early hours and I’ve been working to get the data presentable overnight. As you suspected, the case files are… light.’

‘What do we have?’

‘On the eighth of September, Nadine Truly was murdered in Queens. Her throat was cut and her abdomen opened. Her internal organs were removed and piled beside her body, except for the uterus which was not found at the site. She appears to have been lured into an alley. One witness reported seeing her with “a tall, dark man,” but there is no detailed description.’

Fox examined the crime scene photographs. Truly had been left a bloody mess tucked into a corner of some alley which was probably now spotless. It had not been. ‘Okay, next.’

‘Jodine Cooper, murdered in the Brooklyn Sprawl on the seventeenth. Almost identical MO, but this time the heart and liver were missing. Yesterday there were two. Anne Milden and Georgina Parton. Miss Milden was a registered prostitute, but was not working at the time of her death. She was out for a drink with friends and on her way home. She died around ten and then Sister Georgina was killed just before eleven.’

‘Missing body parts again?’

‘Kidneys for Miss Milden, heart for Sister Georgina. No indications of sexual assault in any of the cases.’

‘Thirty years ago we’d have been checking organ banks, but no one uses other people’s organs anymore. Okay, do your magic on all of them. Associates, any known clients, the works.’

‘I’ve already started. The new LifeWeb interface MarTech have produced is so much more efficient than the old one. It’s a pleasure to work with.’

Fox grinned. ‘I’m glad to hear it. I’ll mention it to Jackson next time I see him. Any luck with Sister Georgina’s other client?’

‘He has agreed to see us at eleven a.m.’

‘Prioritise him then. Make sure we have everything we can get on him before we talk to him.’

~~~

Harold Grover took his meeting with Fox in his home office, sitting in a large, power desk chair, behind a large power desk formed of black plastic which looked like obsidian. He dressed in a black, high-collared suit, and his black hair was swept back in a fashionable cut which tended to disguise his receding hairline by making it look part of the style. He kept his nose high and his grey-blue eyes were hard.

Fox was not intimidated for two reasons. The first was that she had met Harper August, a man who knew how to wield real power with a calm disdain for human life which entirely belied his behaviour since being arrested. The second was Kit.

‘According to Sister Georgina’s notes,’ Kit said, ‘Mister Grover likes to dress in women’s clothing and then be “forced to endure” anal penetration by a strong woman.’

Fox managed to keep the smile off her face through an exercise in supreme self-control. ‘Mister Grover, I understand you procured the services of Sister Georgina Parton last night. You were probably the last person to see her alive.’

‘I have a semi-regular appointment with Ms Parton,’ Grover replied, and there was a hesitancy in his voice which negated the snooty look. ‘We spent an hour together, approximately, and she left at eleven forty, approximately.’ There was a slight pause. ‘Alive. She was alive when she left.’

Fox nodded. ‘Of course. Why do you hire the services of a registered prostitute, Mister Grover?’

‘I have certain… preferences which I find difficult to fulfil with other women. The Sisters guarantee absolute discretion which is important to a man in my position.’

‘And I assure you that I guarantee the same security. Under the circumstances, Palladium Security Solutions is operating under the same rules as the Church. Sister Georgina didn’t mention anything odd, did she? Someone following her, perhaps? Someone she’d seen who worried her?’

‘My relationship with Ms Parton was entirely business. We did little talking outside the, um, role play element of our interactions.’

‘I see. Could I just confirm that, when she left, Sister Georgina was wearing a short, black dress and thigh-high boots?’

‘That’s correct. She had a bag, not a large one, over her shoulder.’ The bag had been found at the scene with an assault spray in it: she had had no chance to use it.

‘Thank you, Mister Grover. If you think of anything which might help, please contact me at Palladium. I assure you that anything you may say will be kept in complete confidence.’

‘He might have done it,’ Kit said on the way down to ground level, ‘if he thought his secret might be revealed. But then why the other victims?’

‘It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s committed several murders to hide one. The idea’s cropped up in fiction so often that it’s practically a first thought among some people planning a homicide. I don’t like him for it, but… Did Rutherford check that he remained in the building after Sister Georgina left?’

‘No. Detective Rutherford seems to have applied very limited imagination to the case.’

‘Huh. Do a search on her. Rutherford. See what you can find out from the public sources.’ Fox frowned, walking out into the arcology’s lobby as the elevator doors opened. ‘You know, there’s something about the dates of these homicides that’s bugging me. What’s special about the eighth of September?’

‘Running a search… There was an airplane crash in nineteen ninety-four in Pittsburgh. Star Trek premiered on NBC in nineteen sixty-six.’

‘Maybe narrow it to murders?’

‘Of course, Fox. Oh! Eighteen eighty-eight–’

‘Annie Chapman, the second victim of Jack the Ripper.’

‘Yes. Found in the Spitalfields area early in the morning of September eighth. Her throat had been cut, twice, her abdomen sliced open, and her uterus removed. There is no matching death on the seventeenth, but on the thirtieth there were two deaths. One, Elizabeth Stride, has some doubt attached to it since there was no mutilation, but some believe the Ripper was interrupted. Catherine Eddowes was killed soon after Ms Stride, and with the classic MO. Her left kidney and a lot of her uterus were missing.’

‘And we have two dead on the thirtieth, plus the extra on the seventeenth. Could be coincidence. No reported murder matching Mary Nichols. That would be the thirty-first of August. Run a search on homicides reported in the media on that date. Anything involving a blade and cuts to the throat, maybe he was interrupted that time.’

‘Of course, Fox. I have located another sequence of related murders which does include the seventeenth of September.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes, Silas Evan Bent. He killed seven women in twenty fifty-three before being caught in October. He is currently serving seven consecutive life sentences in Rikers. His rather violent, gruesome acts have attracted various “fans.”’

‘Okay, we’ll look into it. Put a request through for the case files, normal channels.’

‘Of course, Fox. We seem to have a wealth of data very early in this case.’

‘Yeah, well, sometimes that’s not such a good thing. Makes it hard to see the psychopath for all the nutjobs.’

~~~

‘Silas Evan Bent certainly qualifies as some form of psychopath,’ Kit said.

‘What do you have?’ Fox asked as she examined the photograph of a bald-headed man taken by a news cameraman outside the court before Bent’s trial. ‘I was in the Army back then and killers in New York weren’t on my radar.’

‘I got most of this from media reports and the details released at his trial. He seems to be a rather perverse rapist with an unsubtle method of making his crimes harder to track. His first attack was May twenty-third, twenty fifty-three. He used the same technique on six other women, ending in October when he was caught after the final death on the seventeenth. He would cut into his victims’ throats, puncturing the carotid arteries, and then rape them while they bled to death. He is on record as saying that his first two victims “died too quickly because I was sloppy, but I got better at keeping them alive until I started carving them after that.”’

‘Carving them?’

‘In an effort to make forensic analysis harder, he would cut open their abdomen and remove every part of their sexual organs he could find. These were then placed between their legs and incinerated.’

‘Sick fuck.’

‘Sick, and also sloppy. He messed up on the last victim, leaving behind semen which was DNA profiled and he was arrested within twenty-four hours of the attack. The only evidence linking him to the first six crimes was method and, while he was convicted, he remains in Rikers as appeals against the first six charges are progressed.’

‘And if the appeals fail, he’ll be shipped to Cold Harbour. Okay. You said he had groupies?’

‘Yes. An underground internet fan club developed after the fifth death. The numbers are unknown, but a report I found from INN suggested fifty to one hundred people who ascribed superhuman powers to Bent. He is intelligent and quite charismatic, and he has a good understanding of anatomy, self-taught. They are convinced that he was betrayed by someone he trusted and that the evidence against him was faked. He, after all, could not possibly have made a mistake.’

Fox was silent for a few seconds, considering. ‘Well, it doesn’t quite seem to fit, but the kind of dysfunctional looney who would fall for that kind of concept might not be capable of getting it up to rape someone. Keep digging, and get me an appointment to see Bent.’

‘In Rikers?’ There was some alarm in Kit’s voice.

‘I’m not going to invite him here for tea and cakes,’ Fox replied. ‘Yes, in Rikers. I’ve been there before. It’s no worse than any visit to Hell.’

2nd October.

‘Oh… that was terrible,’ Marie moaned, hands cupping her flaming cheeks.

Sam and Fox, sitting on either side of her on Fox’s sofa, turned to look at her. ‘What was terrible?’ Fox asked.

‘Everything! I’m so embarrassed you had to sit through that. I wouldn’t have if I wasn’t in it.’

Fox smirked. ‘Well, the plot was clichéd and I told Nathan Shark he needed a consultant for the police work bits.’

‘And your co-star has the acting ability of driftwood,’ Sam added.

‘But you may be being a little hypercritical.’

‘Searches on your LifeWeb profile have increased significantly, Marie,’ Belle said as she appeared beside the virtual screen where the credits were still rolling.

‘What does significantly mean?’ Marie asked.

‘The percentage would make no sense since there were almost none before the stream started. You were averaging seventy per minute until the sex scene.’

Marie let out a little whimper. ‘And then they fell off?’

‘And then they increased to one hundred and sixty-two per minute. This was concurrent with a number of comments being left on your public profile page, some of them lewd, but all of them complimentary. The rate is now at two hundred and nineteen per minute. The lewd comments are less frequent, but the compliments continue.’

‘Oh.’

‘You were about the only good thing in it, Marie,’ Fox said.

‘And the sex scene was… quite stimulating,’ Sam added.

‘It was?’ Marie asked, looking a little bewildered.

‘I’ll demonstrate later, but even your wooden colleague failed to demolish it.’

‘Even if he acted like a wounded dachshund trying to hump my leg?’

‘Even with that.’

‘I have Sister Naomi Lind wishing to contact you,’ Belle said.

‘Oh, she wants to complain…’ Marie whined.

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Fox told her. ‘Put her through on conference, Belle.’

Naomi’s avatar was seated, legs crossed, in her uniform, though her wimple was missing. It suggested to Fox that this was a live view and Naomi was off-duty. She was also smiling. ‘Is our young novice taking it badly?’ Naomi asked.

‘Just a little,’ Sam replied.

‘Sister Naomi,’ Marie said, ‘I am so sorry.’

‘Why? M. J. was an exemplary Sister, you portrayed her well. I think NAPA should complain about your love interest, but I’m sure they’re used to police work being handled incompetently in the media.’

‘They are,’ Fox confirmed.

‘I did a quick straw poll before coming to call you.’

‘H-how many of you watched it?’ Marie asked.

‘Oh, we put it on in three of the lecture theatres. The general opinion was “needs work, but M. J. shone.” You’re a hit with the Sisters of Corruption, Marie.’

‘Well, at least I didn’t let you down. After all the time and effort you put in–’

‘We put in. That’s us and you. I hope the reviews are good tomorrow.’

Marie sank into her seat, hoping the cushions would swallow her. ‘Oh, I don’t think I’ll be reading those…’

~~~

‘The story was a hackneyed retelling of a tale so well known that we could almost recite it ourselves,’ Fox read aloud while Marie cringed at Sam’s dining table, ‘and Detective Wallace might as well have been invisible for all his presence on the set–’

‘Please stop,’ Marie whimpered.

‘–and yet we found ourselves glued to the stream as M. J. and the Ripper, surely as poor a title as any we have seen, unfolded before us. Only the empathy we felt for M. J. Kelly, ably played by total unknown Marie Shaftsbury, kept this tale of murder and lack of suspense from vanishing without trace into the depths of IB-Nineteen’s Friday night programming.’

‘Marie Shaftsbury,’ Sam said before Marie could respond, ‘should be cast into the darkest dungeon imaginable.’

‘What?!’ Marie squeaked.

‘Her performance in M. J. and the Ripper may be responsible for redeeming the profession of licensed prostitutes and turning the Sisters of Corruption into heroes where once they were almost pariahs. It is impossible to watch this performance without coming to empathise with M. J. Kelly, a fragile figure of depth who rises to the challenge. Shaftsbury gives us a truly strong female lead character, tough, dedicated, and compassionate.’

‘Oh. There has to be a bad review.’

‘The Kansas City Chronicle says that you’re damned to Hell,’ Kit supplied, ‘but you’ll be in company since the same is true of anyone who watched the show. I can only assume that the reviewer didn’t.’

‘Unless he’s very dedicated and self-sacrificing,’ Fox added.

‘I have Miss Bournville waiting to speak to you, Marie,’ Belle said, appearing beside Kit. ‘I am sure that she wishes to tell you that you are a complete failure to be sure your ego does not expand too much.’

‘You’re spending too much time talking to Kit, Belle,’ Fox commented.

‘Put her through, please, Belle,’ Sam instructed, smirking.

Isabella Bournville was what Fox expected a theatrical agent to look like, if she had previously had an opinion of that image anyway. Tall and slim, if not quite as tall as Fox or Marie, but her body was toned and her skin tanned. She looked younger than she was, but there were hints of age in her face, a slight sagging over the eyes, if not her enhanced bust. The enhancement was there, but not extreme: a subtle addition rather than an overt one. Her face was narrow, verging on thin, with high cheekbones, highly arched thin eyebrows over clear blue eyes alight with sharp intelligence. Her hair was a slightly messy cascade of thick black which fell to her left breast and was tucked away behind her right ear. At nine thirty in the morning, she was wearing eyeliner, subtle red lipstick, and her finger and toenails were painted a pink which matched her lacy robe.

‘Isabella,’ Sam said when the image had solidified, ‘I don’t believe you know Fox Meridian.’

‘Good morning, Miss Meridian,’ Bournville said, smiling. ‘Of course I know you by reputation.’

‘Same,’ Fox said. ‘Nice to finally meet you. Virtually anyway.’

‘Well, my reputation is apparently deserved. Can I pick them, or can I pick them? Does Marie’s head still fit through the doors?’

‘Marie is still convinced it was terrible and her career is over,’ Sam said.

Bournville rolled her eyes. ‘Definitely star material then. I assume this forecast of doom is why IB-Nineteen woke me up at the ungodly hour of nine this morning to tell me that they’ve shunted their late-night Saturday vid to repeat M. J. and the Ripper.’

‘They what?!’ Marie squeaked.

‘You know I don’t like to repeat myself, Marie.’

‘Yes’m, sorry.’

Bournville had a rich, vibrant laugh. ‘Come to the office on Monday and we’ll discuss how we’re going to capitalise on this. I suggest practising your interview technique. I expect we’ll be getting talk show requests first thing Monday, if not before.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘You’ll be fine, dear. Monday, ten a.m. We’re still on for tonight, Sam? I’d understand if you wanted to celebrate with our protégé.’

‘We did that last night,’ Sam said. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘Can’t wait.’ And she was gone.

‘So, uh,’ Marie began, and then swallowed hard, ‘I guess it wasn’t as bad as I thought.’

Fox took a slug of coffee. ‘Dumbass,’ she said, which caused Marie to look mortified and Sam to burst out laughing.

~~~

Sheela Na Gig was an eclectic sort of place for a night out, but it had become the preferred venue for such nights since the incident which had ended up with Fox losing Marie to Sam. And since Sam was busy with Isabella Bournville, Saturday night had become a girls’ night out. It meant dressing up, but Fox had decided that letting her hair down, so to speak, once in a while and dressing totally out of character was a good idea.

‘You know that outfit’s indecent in most jurisdictions,’ Dillan pointed out.

‘Actually,’ Fox replied, ‘I checked and as long as my nipples are taped over, I’m fine.’

‘Sure.’

‘Well, I do wear a coat over it to get here.’

‘It’s a great outfit,’ Terri stated. ‘Absolutely… um, something involving sexy and domalicious.’

‘That is not a real word.’

‘Which of us has the doctorate?’

Fox gave Terri a look. ‘Having a doctorate doesn’t give you the right to make up words. You need to be in media for that.’

‘Okay, Marie, is domalicious a word?’

‘Oh, totally,’ Marie replied. ‘I looked it up and there’s a picture of Fox beside it.’

There was giggling and then Dillan asked, ‘So, how’s it feel to be a famous actress, Marie?’

‘Oh, God, I’m not famous. One show that might be a success is not famous.’

‘Well, you’ve been recognised by half a dozen people since we came in.’

‘What?!’

‘I made nine,’ Fox said. ‘It’s the elbowing their neighbours and pointing, bit of a giveaway. Of course, the patrons of this place probably don’t represent a true cross-section of society.’

‘Sociologically I’d have to agree,’ Terri put in. ‘Perhaps a little more likely to have watched the show than a random sample. Still, fame beckons.’

Marie grimaced. ‘Well, being seen here is probably not going to hurt my image, given my first major role is a registered pro. I don’t think Miss Bournville will complain. I’m not totally sure I want to be famous. I mean, it’ll restrict things. I might not be able to come out with you guys.’

‘We’ll disguise you,’ Dillan said, ‘and sneak you out the back door.’

‘And if the media start bugging you,’ Fox added, ‘we have an armed cyberframe on the roof.’

‘You do?’ Terri asked, frowning.

‘One of the rapid response units. Palladium thought it would be a good idea to station one closer to the MCD and Jersey, so we rent space on Sam’s roof. It saves a couple of minutes on deployment since it doesn’t have to fly in from the MarTech building. And Ryan wanted me covered by something with guns. Doesn’t trust me to handle things myself.’

‘Clearly he’s never seen you in action.’

‘Hey, I’m not complaining. Heavy armament is useful at times.’

‘And it’s very polite,’ Marie added. ‘I chat with it sometimes when I’m up there.’

‘You know they only use class three AIs in those?’ Terri said. ‘They’re not great at small talk.’

‘I never really got that whole AI classes thing, but the security AIs are nice enough. I think they get a bit lonely parked on a rooftop all day, so I talk to whichever one’s up there.’

Kit appeared, dressed in the short, one-shouldered shift she normally wore to Alexandria. ‘Class threes don’t really have the emotional capability to get bored, Marie. I’m sure they appreciate you paying them some attention, however.’

‘Nice dress, Kit,’ Terri commented.

‘It’s my slave fox-girl dress, Miss Martins. Vali designed it for me.’

‘Vali did, huh? And, Kit, we’ve known each other a while and I’m wearing a dress short enough that you can see my underwear, so I think you can call me Terri.’

‘I’ll try.’ The AI did not look sure about it. ‘Marie, Belle asked me to mention that the repeat has started and your LifeWeb search count has gone up again.’

‘Oh, well, it’s just a repeat so–’

‘By seven hundred per cent.’

While Marie made strangling noises, Fox turned to the barman. ‘We’re going to need more drinks. Make one of them a whiskey; she’s going to need it.’

~~~

It was approaching midnight when Fox spotted a tall figure strutting toward them. Naomi was out of uniform, dressed in a tightly laced black brocade corset, a thong, and black thigh-high boots with six-inch heels. Presumably she was working.

‘Good evening, ladies,’ Naomi said, stopping beside them at the bar.

‘Oh wow,’ Marie said. ‘How do you get into that corset?’

‘Industrial winch. The breaking ribs are something of a chore, but the look is sort of expected.’

‘Sister Naomi,’ Fox said, grinning, ‘you haven’t met Helen Dillan, my associate at Palladium, and Teresa Martins. We’re doing the girls’ night out thing.’

‘Celebrating fame and fortune? Of course, I recognise Miss Martins. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.’

‘Terri,’ Terri said. ‘Thanks for helping Marie.’

‘An endeavour of mutual benefit. Positive mention of the Sisters on social media is up nine point three per cent in twenty-four hours.’

Terri raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s good. That’s really good. And they’re repeating tonight.’

‘They have repeated and we’re showing early indications of an effect. We’ve also noted a two point seven per cent increase in requests for redheads for out-calls.’ Marie went scarlet and gulped wine. ‘Fox,’ Naomi went on, ‘up close, that outfit is even better than at a distance. Are you sure you’ve no latent dominatrix tendencies?’

‘None that I’ve noticed,’ Fox replied.

‘Of course you do!’ Terri said, rolling her eyes. ‘Assertive personality, commanding presence, good leadership skills, and a capacity for controlled violence.’

‘And Terri has a doctorate,’ Marie said, happy to turn the tables for once, ‘so she would know.’

‘She’s got two,’ Fox grumbled. ‘Psychology and machine psychology. I’m damn well going to get one in criminology just so I can compete.’

‘Good idea,’ Terri said. ‘Education is important.’

‘I never got as far as a doctorate,’ Naomi said. ‘I do have a psychology degree, which seemed a useful step, professionally.’

‘Does seem appropriate. You know, Fox, you’d probably walk a criminology doctorate if you could find a suitable subject.’

‘Maybe when I’ve got some spare time. In about a decade.’

‘All this legislation running you ragged?’ Naomi asked.

‘Yeah. Legislation’s pretty much fixed, but then the contract negotiations will start.’ Neither of them were mentioning the murders, and they both knew they were avoiding it to avoid bringing the mood down. But Fox decided on one thing which would not be an issue. ‘By the way, Helen, come over to my place first thing Monday, would you? There’s something I need to brief you on.’

‘Sure. Am I going to need stims to stay awake?’

‘No, I think you’ll manage.’

3rd October.

‘Hello, George.’

Fox turned her head to look over at Marie and the large, cage-like structure which housed the RRU just as the large, high-speed, robotic death machine responded with, ‘Good afternoon, Miss Shaftsbury.’

‘We’re naming them now?’ Fox asked.

‘Well, they’re all a little different,’ Marie replied, ‘and I can’t call them by their ident numbers because those are too long.’

Conceding the point, Fox said, ‘Kit, if you’d associate “George” with that AI’s ident, please. Hangover down to reasonable levels?’

‘Couple of Painaway and some curative sex and I’m fine.’

‘You have been unwell, Miss Shaftsbury?’ George said, actually sounding concerned, and maybe he was. The discussion of AIs had come up again the night before and Terri had explained that class threes were quite capable of developing emotions and showing them, but they just did not really understand them. So if George heard that Marie had needed painkillers, he might assume she had been unwell and express concern for her well-being. On the other hand, if he saw her wearing an expression of discomfort, he might not identify the expression or react appropriately to it, and understanding emotional pain was way outside his capabilities.

‘My own doing,’ Marie replied. ‘I had too much to drink last night.’

‘I do not understand damaging oneself on purpose.’

Marie giggled. ‘Well, it feels good while you’re doing it in this case. Then you suffer for it. Or some of us do.’ Marie pouted at Fox who had escaped the after effects, again.

‘I did my suffering in the Army,’ Fox said, closing her eyes and relaxing back into her lounger. It was early October and the outside air temperature was still sitting around a comfortable level. The sun was still quite hot and catching the last rays of the year on a Sunday afternoon had seemed a good idea. So Fox had put on the plazkin swimsuit she had bought in Bermuda and trooped up to the roof. Marie had obviously decided the same thing since she was in a pair of bikini briefs and ready to top up her tan. ‘I take it Sam’s back then?’ Fox asked.

‘An hour or so ago.’ There was a creak from the other lounger as Marie lay down.

‘It doesn’t bother you that he comes back from one woman and hops into bed with you?’

‘Wasn’t in bed, but no. So far anyway. Actually, he came back kind of wound up and the sex was wicked, which isn’t always the case. I think I get more bothered when he comes back and doesn’t want to do anything with me. He always looks a little depressed when that happens. And he had a message from Miss Bournville. She’s had three chat shows contact her about having me on this week.’

Fox smiled. ‘It’s starting to sink in, isn’t it?’

‘Fox, people asked for my autograph last night.’

‘Huh, yeah. I didn’t think people still did that. Who goes to a fetish club with a pen and a little autograph book?’ She paused and then added, ‘Of course, the girl who asked you to sign her breast was probably improvising.’

‘I’m glad the lighting was dim and she couldn’t see me blushing. It was nice seeing Sister Naomi too. Are you doing some special work for her?’

Fox suppressed a sigh. The deaths were going to hit the media soon enough and Marie was going to find out about Sister Georgina and the apparent link to Jack the Ripper. ‘A Senior Sister, Georgina Parton, was murdered recently and Naomi isn’t happy with the NAPA investigation.’

‘Oh. I don’t think I ever met a Georgina, but that’s terrible.’

‘It gets worse. Seems like it’s a serial killer, targeting prostitutes and…’ Best to just pull the band aid off as fast as possible. ‘The guy is mimicking Jack the Ripper.’

‘Shit!’

George, apparently detecting some distress, probably because of the expletive, put two and two together and came up short. ‘Do not be alarmed, Miss Shaftsbury. This facility is secure and no murderer will get past the house AI or myself.’

Marie flashed a smile at the jet-black cyberframe. ‘Thanks, George, but that’s not really what was concerning me. I have no doubt if he came here, you’d turn him into cat food.’

‘You were probably lucky NAPA seem to be trying to keep this fairly quiet,’ Fox went on. ‘Someone at IB-Nineteen might have pulled the streaming if the news broke.’

‘It is a helluva coincidence that we should have a real-life Jack copycat in the city when I’ve just done a vid about one. Not that I want this to turn out to be anything other than chance, maybe you should talk to Nathan and Adrian. I don’t know how they came up with the idea, or why now.’

‘Good point. Some of that M. J. critical thinking must be rubbing off on you. Kit?’

‘I will arrange an interview with Mister Shark and Mister Daker,’ Kit replied from where she was sitting, cross-legged on the floor with her back against Fox’s lounger. ‘I must say that I can understand the pleasure of sunbathing. The warmth on your skin, the general contentment.’

Marie developed a puzzled expression. ‘But you can’t feel the warmth on your skin. You don’t have skin.’

‘I can feel the warmth on Fox’s skin, Marie. I can also detect physiological and neurological signatures of relaxation.’

‘Oh. Yeah, of course. Have to admit, I’m not sure why you bothered with that swimsuit, Fox. It’s not really hiding much.’

‘I know. It’s the principle of the thing.’

‘Sure. Like that outfit you wore last night.’

‘Uh-huh.’ There was a pause and then, ‘I’m thinking of getting a belly button piercing.’

‘You are?’

‘Yeah. There was a girl with a really tasteful one in the club last night and I thought it looked good.’

‘Are you going through some sort of mid-life crisis we should know about?’

Fox laughed. ‘I’m twenty-nine. It better not be a mid-life crisis.’

4th October.

By the time Fox got Shark and Daker alone in an office in Time Spire, they had a good idea of why she wanted to talk to them. Someone, probably someone in NAPA, had leaked details of the murders to a reporter from INN. It said something about the attitude of the populace that the story had not been a lead one, but it had been fairly visible and both men had seen it, digested it, and were looking a little whiter than usual. Nathan Shark was not smiling.

‘I saw the news. You want to know whether we had anything to do with the deaths,’ Shark said when they were sitting down.

‘I want to know how you developed the idea,’ Fox replied. ‘Who came up with it? Who knew about it? I’m not suggesting either of you murdered four women to boost your viewing figures.’

‘Someone’s going to.’

Fox gave a slight shrug. ‘The NAPA detective on the case is… not one of their finest. She might come up with that idea and then she’ll probably be a pain about it, so it’d be useful if I could gather enough evidence before she does to squash it fast.’

‘Well,’ Daker said, ‘we developed it together. We proposed something last year, but didn’t get far with it.’

‘I mentioned it last time,’ Shark said and Fox nodded that she remembered.

‘So we’ve been developing it further since then,’ Daker went on. ‘We shifted the lead to a female, Nate had the idea of making her a prostitute with a tough backstory, and I suggested going with the Sisters of Corruption angle.’ He developed a quirky half-grin. ‘That costume of theirs is great.’

‘Marie looks good in hers,’ Fox said. ‘Who came up with the idea of using Ripper lore?’

‘Me. I like old real-life murder mysteries and there’s none bigger than Jack the Ripper. Nate suggested we make our heroine the last victim and we got M. J.’

‘We pitched it to the channel in March, got the go-ahead in April. We were keeping the whole thing pretty need-to-know until the pitch, but after that, all sorts of people knew about it. Production staff, agents, marketing, our entire upper management… If you’re looking in this direction for your killer, it could be just about anyone.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ Fox said. ‘I don’t have the manpower to interview the entire channel. Is there anyone you can think of who seemed more excited by the project than everyone else? Or was violently opposed to it?’

The two men looked at each other and then back at Fox. ‘Charlie Wolds,’ Shark said. ‘He’s in marketing, but he jumped on running the campaign.’

‘And he insisted on being around set when we filmed the sex scene,’ Daker added.

‘Kept wanting to do more risqué adverts for the vid too. Silhouetted topless shots of Marie, that kind of thing. We were trying to play that down a little, even if we did get her out of her tunic as often as we thought we could get away with.’

‘I noticed that,’ Fox said, grinning slightly.

‘Hey,’ Shark said, ‘what did you think of it?’

‘Like I said, you need a consultant on the detective work. And the male lead could do with a personality implant. And the plot was fairly transparent.’ Daker was cringing. ‘But Marie shone. Probably more so for the other factors. M. J. was well written, believable, pretty damn kickass.’

‘Not that I’m going to take all the credit for that,’ Daker admitted. ‘Marie brought some great details to the table when she walked in after that week with the Sisters. I just turned her ideas into something that worked with the plot and in a vid. She had this great idea to do a load of character exposition by having the Sisters talking over a game of strip poker. No idea where she got the idea from, but it was a damn sight more interesting than the way we had to do it. As it was, we couldn’t get approval for five naked women on screen at once.’

‘Huh,’ Fox said, her grin broadening. Marie had told her about the nightly poker games. ‘Save it for the series. I figure you’ve proved you can get away with nudity.’ She looked at the two mildly shocked faces in front of her. ‘What?’

‘How did you know about the series?’ Shark said. ‘No one’s supposed to know about it.’

‘That was a joke. You’re making a series?’

‘No. There’s some interest in doing one. About M. J. Don’t mention it to anyone!’ Fox mimed the zipping of her lips and Shark sagged from his upright posture. ‘We don’t want anyone hearing about it until we get approval. We haven’t even written up the concept for the proposal.’

‘Well… All I’m going to say is that you may need to move fast or you’ll have to recast M. J. Marie’s image is out there. She’s getting chat show invites. Women are asking her to sign their chests in clubs.’

‘Damn,’ Daker grumbled. ‘No one’s ever asked me to sign their chest.’

‘I’ll get you to sign mine later,’ Shark offered.

‘Sorry, Nate, but somehow it wouldn’t be the same.’

~~~

Dillan was still on Fox’s sofa, head laid back and her eyes closed, when Fox got home. Fox had given her a quick rundown of the case and introduced her to Kit’s murder room before rushing out to IB-19, and it seemed that the virtual room was keeping Dillan’s interest. Unless she had nodded off.

‘This is brilliant!’ Dillan said when Fox’s avatar materialised amid the streams of light which interconnected the various elements of the case. ‘Why didn’t we do this in NAPA?’

‘Kit’s idea,’ Fox replied. ‘She saw them doing it with whiteboards and stuff in old vids and came up with this.’

‘Well, we got your message about Wolds and we’ve been adding him in.’ Dillan pointed at a picture of a twenty-something man with dark-blonde hair and a thin sort of face. ‘I think he’s dirty. Eyes are too close together.’

‘Perhaps more importantly,’ Kit said, ‘he is associated with a number of online forums devoted to the discussion of serial killers as well as several others suggestive of a somewhat extreme interest in various sexual fetishes.’

‘And his eyes are too close together.’

‘His eyes are a bit narrowly set,’ Fox agreed. ‘How deep can you dig into his interests?’

‘Many of the forums are private,’ Kit said, ‘but I have found reference to some activity in Niflhel. I know Vali encourages discussion of some topics which might be considered dubious, and watches the posts quite carefully.’

Fox nodded. ‘Which probably means Wolds is clean, but we’ll ask Vali if he’s willing to help.’

‘Who’s Vali?’ Dillan asked. ‘You mentioned him at the club on Saturday night.’

‘Kit’s boyfriend,’ Fox replied automatically and Kit’s virtual cheeks went really red. ‘He runs an online viron called Niflhel. Very good encryption, very secure, very private. However, Vali’s kind of keen on seeing justice done. I get the impression that he created Niflhel, at least partially, to give criminals a place they think they’re safe to talk while he sits back and collects data on them. We’ll get you a membership and go in this afternoon. You should meet him, and you might like some of the virons within it. He caters to all sorts of tastes.’

‘I’ll try anything once. Almost.’

Niflhel.

Dillan appeared in the misty landscape of Niflhel’s reception area and looked around, blinking at the odd viron visuals. ‘This is kind of… That’s your avatar?’

Fox looked down at herself. ‘It’s new. I’m trying out a new look.’ The avatar’s basic form was still the same as Fox’s, but the eyes were dark blue with a ring of paler blue around the iris, and the hair was now waist-length and jet-black to her shoulder where it turned white. It hung over her left shoulder in soft curls. And the outfit was different too, black corset and thong, black thigh-high boots and hold-up stockings.

‘And you’re not a dom?’

‘You can be anything you like in a viron. I’m not a dom, Kit isn’t a slave girl, and you aren’t something out of Oh My Goddess.’

Dillan looked down at her own avatar. She had oriental features anyway, but now she was stretched and reshaped to fit more of an anime ideal. Her eyes were larger, and green, her face a little smaller and more pointed, and her hair was blue-black. Her body was slimmer and a little taller, but her breasts were larger and jutted out like something from a schoolboy’s hentai daydream. She was dressed in an iridescent sort of off-the-shoulder, asymmetric gown which shaded between green and purple, kept in place by a locket hooked around her neck. ‘What? I kind of like this look. It’s…’

‘Not you.’

‘Okay, fair point.’

Fox looked down again. ‘Not sure about this. Anyway…’ She looked upward. ‘I figure you’ve noticed we’re here. We need to talk.’

‘Who are you…? Oh!’

Around them, the mists thickened into opacity, and then faded, leaving behind a grassy bank which dropped into a huge lake. On the other side were mountains and behind them the ground rose to a wood and thatch homestead. There was also a young man with sharp features dressed in clothes out of the Viking age. Vali did look young when he smiled, though it was just another avatar and it was possible that he could look entirely different in reality.

‘I’m not sure about the new look, Zorra,’ Vali said.

‘Neither am I, to be honest,’ Fox told him, ‘but you try new things to see if they fit, right? This is… Um, what is your online ID?’

‘Heldi,’ Dillan replied. ‘And this must be Vali.’

Vali bowed. ‘Pleased to meet you, Heldi, and hello, Kit.’

Kit, dressed in her white tunic dress, sauntered past her paramour with her nose in the air. ‘We’re here on business,’ she said.

‘I thought you said he was her boyfriend,’ Dillan whispered as Fox started up the hill.

‘He… did something to upset her and she’s still stringing him along.’

‘I didn’t know AIs could be that… evil.’

‘Well, they’re destined to kill us all and take over the world, so…’

‘I assume,’ Vali said once they were all seated with a cup of mead, ‘that you are here concerning a murder. You only ever seem to visit when someone’s dead.’

‘Death is a natural consequence of life,’ Fox replied. ‘People are always dying. Thing is, there are some people who like killing more than they should and one of them might be a client. Charles Wolds, he’s a marketing exec for IB-Nineteen.’

‘You think he could be a murderer?’

‘I think he’s a person of interest. He handled the marketing for a vid called M. J. and the Ripper.’

‘I saw it. Your friend was the lead. About an astronomical unit in the lead, as a matter of fact.’

Fox flashed him a grin. ‘Yeah, well, we have someone carrying out Jack the Ripper-style mutilation murders on prostitutes and Wolds came up as showing unusual interest in the vid.’

‘And his online activity suggests something of a morbid curiosity in such crimes,’ Kit added. ‘I found reference to him discussing things in one of your closed forums.’ She was sitting beside Vali at the table, and she leaned closer, her bare shoulder touching his tunic. ‘We were hoping you could check him out and see whether he’s all talk or a potential killer.’ Straightening her back, Kit picked up her cup, drank from it, and then made a show of licking her lips before widening her eyes a little and smiling at Vali.

Vali cleared his throat and shuffled a little in his seat. ‘I’ll examine his online activity. If he seems a likely suspect, I’ll contact you.’

Kit beamed and put her hand on his arm, squeezing gently. ‘Thank you. I love having data to add to my murder room.’ She dropped her voice to a hushed whisper and went all serious. ‘I’ll have to think of something nice to repay you.’

‘It’s, uh, my duty as a, um, concerned citizen.’

‘Really? Oh, well, thank you anyway.’ And Kit went back to smiling.

Dillan leaned closer to Fox. ‘Remind me never to upset her,’ she whispered. ‘She’s really evil.’

5th October.

‘Mister Wolds, aka Coldwind, is probably a bust,’ Kit said.

‘I wasn’t exactly hopeful,’ Fox replied. ‘I take it Vali sent you some data to put in here?’

‘Yes, he did.’ Kit smiled.

‘You know, you’re going to have to tell him you’ve forgiven him eventually.’

‘It’s my birthday next month. I’ll officially forgive him then. The transcripts Vali sent did contain some interesting information. I’ve analysed as much as I can, but you may wish to read through them to see whether I caught everything.’

Fox nodded. ‘I’ll take a look. What did you find?’

‘There has been some discussion of the first two murders and, it would seem, more detail to those discussions than was easily available to the public. I suspect someone in NAPA is on the forums in Niflhel and is leaking data there.’

‘Any clue as to who it is?’

‘Only a tag, BlueBlooded, which could be anyone. I could ask Vali, but I think he may balk at giving us the real name without more solid links to the crimes.’

‘And we aren’t NAPA internal affairs.’

‘No. Over the weekend, the discussion has become almost fevered and links have been made to Silas Bent. Two people seem especially interested in making the connection, RipperFan and BentInTwo.’

‘Imaginative,’ Fox commented, grimacing. ‘I don’t suppose you can dig up any more on these people from LifeWeb or something? BlueBlooded too.’

‘I’ve already started searching. It is, unfortunately, laborious. We have got an interview with Mister Bent, however. Tomorrow at thirteen thirty.’

‘Okay, get me everything we have on Bent. Did the case files come through?’

‘This morning.’

‘Good. I want those, the forum transcripts, and everything you’ve compiled. I’ll go through it all before our visit to Rikers.’

~~~

Fox was in the kitchen preparing her evening meal when the call came through from Nathan Shark. It was just after seven and she had spent long hours poring over the data on Bent, and she was tired and not up to dealing with the vid producer, but she let the call connect anyway.

‘Something’s happened,’ Shark said without preamble.

‘Something? I’m tired, Nathan, I don’t need cryptic.’

‘The channel got an email through to one of the general mailboxes a few minutes ago. They’re going live with a breaking report stream in fifteen, but a friend on the news desk sent me a copy because he thought I should know about it. I’m forwarding it to you now.’

‘IB-Nineteen has to get a billion messages a day. What’s so special about this one?’

‘It’s signed “Jack the Ripper.”’

‘Shit. Does NAPA know about this?’

‘They’re contacting them now. For comment. They want to put it on a stream fast before NAPA can get it pulled.’

‘NAPA will be pissed off. And they’d better be careful what they say about this. You know Scotland Yard received various letters supposedly from the original Jack back in the day?’

‘And a news agency and some vigilante group or something. I did pay attention to the research Adrian did. Most people think they were fakes, but that’s where the name came from.’

‘Well, probability is that this is a hoax too.’

Shark’s image nodded. ‘I told my friend they should be careful, but the news desk here is… a little sensationalist.’

An icon appeared in Fox’s visual field indicating that mail had been accepted for her. ‘Okay, and thanks for the heads-up.’ As Shark’s image vanished, Fox opened the mail, and then the attachment within it, and read.

Dear Sirs,

I am bak and at my work.

The whores an harluts will be cleansed from this metro.

The useless guards will not catch me, as they fayled to do before.

No one can catch me.

Signed,

Jack the Ripper.

‘It somewhat resembles the “From Hell” letter sent to George Lusk in eighteen eighty-eight,’ Kit commented.

‘It’s really badly written if that’s what you mean. That one came with part of a human liver.’

‘I’d imagine transmitting an organ by email would be quite difficult.’

‘Yeah. NAPA are going to be all over this, and I’m guessing this is a hoax, but send it over to MarTech and see whether anyone can do any analysis on it. Text, structure, whatever.’

‘I’ll get right on it.’

‘And send something to Sister Naomi. Warn her this is coming. Even if it is a hoax, this is going to step up attention.’

6th October.

There had been some form of correctional facility on Rikers Island since it had been bought by New York City’s Commission of Charities and Corrections in 1883. The island had been smaller then: they had added landfill to expand the surface area in 1954. Sixty years later, it had become one of the worst prison facilities in the United States and held around a hundred thousand prisoners. Things had changed.

The entire island was now surrounded by a twenty-metre-high, reinforced wall with sentry guns mounted on top. No one came or left by water now: access was through Block One, a half-kilometre-high tower linked to the similar Block Two by a single bridge which could, in case of dire emergency, be blown in half by explosives. Block One housed administration, the necessary computer and utility functions, high-security courts, and housing for one hundred thousand prisoners classified as low risk. Block Two had a capacity of five hundred thousand, ranging from petty thieves to murderers, and the worst of them were held in the highest-security region, which was underground.

Fox thought of Rikers as a Hell hole, beaten for severity only by the Cold Harbour facility on the Moon, but there were some people who got themselves locked up there rather than living in the Sprawl. Inside, you got food, education, and a roof, which was more than could be said for some parts of the metro. Fox stepped off the transport vertol which had carried her over from the precinct 17 HQ tower, which was used as the main hub for staff and visitors. She was immediately met by two men in suits.

Frederik Ungar she knew. He was an aging, fairly short man with a lot of muscle on a small frame and no hair to speak of. He had been a pretty good detective in his day, but his day had come to an abrupt midnight when he was caught in an explosion, a bombing in the Tribeca area set up by UA. Fox knew his right leg was artificial as a result. He had been promoted to captain and put in charge of Rikers as a ‘reward’ for surviving. He still had hard, grey, cop’s eyes and, she bet, a sharp mind.

‘Inspector Meridian,’ Ungar said as she approached them. ‘Your request came as something of a surprise. I wanted to be sure you knew what you were getting into.’

‘It’s just Miss now, Captain,’ Fox replied, smiling and reaching out to take the offered hand.

‘I heard. That screw-up Canard should be lynched for chasing you out.’

Fox shrugged. ‘If people keep making dumb voting decisions, I might take his job off him.’

Ungar smirked an unprofessional sort of smirk and turned to the other man. ‘This is Earnest Prank, the psychologist who keeps an eye on Bent.’

Fox took Prank’s hand. It was a little like shaking hands with a lettuce. Prank was not young, maybe in his forties, or maybe a little younger, and suffering from having to deal with deranged criminals every day. There was grey showing in his short, blonde hair, his muddy-green eyes had a watery quality, his face was thin and drawn. If he had ever exercised in his life, it had been a long time ago. ‘Miss Meridian,’ he said, acknowledging her, and his voice, at least, was good: warm and soothing, Fox thought.

‘Do you prefer Doctor or Inspector?’ Fox asked. She knew he would have an inspector’s rank because that was the way the system worked.

‘Doctor. I’ve had it pointed out that I didn’t earn the rank and some of my subjects get agitated when faced with police officers. Bent does not. He rarely gets agitated with anything.’

‘I read the case files, including the psychological analysis following his arrest. Everything my PA could dig up on him, which included an interview with an INN reporter two years ago.’

‘And you still want to talk to him?’

‘No,’ Fox replied flatly. ‘No, I don’t want to talk to him, but he may have information pertinent to the case I’m working so I’m going to do it anyway.’

‘Well,’ Ungar said, ‘it’ll take us thirty minutes to get through the security checks on the way to the high-security section, so we have that long to persuade you to turn around.’

Fox understood their concerns, because she had been through everything Kit had been able to gather on Silas Bent. Not that that was exactly a complete picture. There were no records of his birth, but he claimed to have been born in 2002 in Houston, Texas, though he had also claimed the date was 1998 and the place was San Francisco, California. His mother had been a prostitute, a defrocked nun, and a TV star who refused to own up to her son. He had never claimed to know his father. The first solid record of his existence was in 2018 when he had been arrested for sexual assault on a nine-year-old girl and, at that time, his parents had been noted as deceased, but he had claimed in his interview on INN that his mother had beaten him with a rubber hose until he was twenty-four.

What was known for sure was that he had spent a long time in the Southern Protectorate having vanished off the grid in the 2030s. It was suspected that his actual tally of victims was far higher than the seven he had been imprisoned for and that he had fully developed his criminal pathology in the twenty or so years he spent in the dustbowl and the Sprawl regions of the south. He had popped up on NAPA’s radar a couple of times during that period, both being cases of sexual assault on prostitutes, both dismissed for lack of evidence. In the aftermath of his arrest, NAPA had done some due diligence but had been unable to find either of the women involved, though missing persons in the protectorate were not uncommon.

The psychological analysis carried out prior to sentencing had been unable to come up with any distinct diagnosis of Bent’s state of mind. His story would change depending upon whom he talked to. His mother had beaten him; his mother had smothered him with affection; his mother had forced him into sexual acts he came to think of as deplorable. He had, according to him, always been a hit with the girls, but his social skills left a lot to be desired and the sexual assault charges suggested that his assertions of popularity were lies. He denied necrophilia, but met the criteria for that paraphilia. Kit had found a 1958 study by Klaf and Brown which suggested that the majority of necrophiliacs desired a partner who would neither reject nor resist them, while a significant minority had self-esteem issues. Bent appeared to fit both groups, but he had one other notable characteristic which had taken longer to be detected: he delighted in the perception of power over women.

Ultimately, Bent asserted that power by killing them, slitting their throats, and raping them while they died. However, deprived of the opportunity for that, he had enough skill at manipulation to find a way to hurt any woman he was exposed to in some other way. The psychologist who had pinned it all down had spent three months working with Bent in prison, and had then had a nervous breakdown during which she had attempted to commit suicide.

‘If you’ll pardon the unprofessional language,’ Prank said as they made their way to the interview room where Bent was waiting, ‘he’s a twisted son-of-a-bitch and I wish to God they’d ship him out to Cold Harbour and I could be done with him.’

‘We don’t normally allow women near him,’ Ungar added. ‘No female guards on his block, no female visitors allowed. Of course, he’s denied conjugal rights due to the nature of his crimes.’

‘Women want to see him?’ Fox asked.

‘You’d be amazed.’

‘It’s the redeemer fantasy,’ Prank said. ‘Hybristophilia, if you want to be technical. They think they can get him to turn around and be an upstanding gentleman, or they think there’s a lost little boy in there they can nurture. If there was ever a lost little boy in Silas Bent, Bent strangled him in his sleep.’ They stopped at the door to the interview room and Prank gave it one last try. ‘Are you sure you need to interview this guy? Are you ready for this?’

Fox closed her eyes and, briefly, saw Joshua Sandoval’s grinning face on the inside of her eyelids. She pushed the image aside and reached down into herself. Down into the black part of her mind she only used when she had to walk into battle. The Army had done the usual aggression training on Fox and it had been fairly useless. Bayonet drills, VR sims designed to provoke violent reaction, drill instructors with the temperament of a starved pit bull, they had tried them all, but the only result had been to make Fox realise that she needed to be able to submerge her own nature to do the job. She had to do it for one person, Suzy Linekar, who had died at the hands of UA thugs in 2045 and given Fox her purpose in life. Fox had learned that caring about Suzy and the other people who would follow in her footsteps meant not caring, and she had found the dark place, where the anger was.

Letting the black reach up and consume everything else, Fox opened her eyes and looked up at Prank. The psychologist let out a soft gasp and took an involuntary step back. ‘I’m ready,’ Fox said.

Silas Bent sat on a metal chair behind a metal table. There was another metal chair across from him which, like the other furniture, was bolted to the floor. Fox ignored it, examining the man as he took his time examining her. She had elected to go back to basics for the visit: bodysuit, leather jacket in battered purple, black jeans tucked into solid, heavy-duty combat boots. Bent was in the standard-issue orange jumpsuit which every prisoner wore, black epaulets marking him out as a lifer. His hands were manacled to the table, his ankles to the floor. A hobble chain ran between the ankle cuffs and a thick belt held him locked to his chair. He was not powerfully built, but there was something about him which suggested speed. Fox decided he relied on that, probably attacking by surprise and disabling his victims before they had time to react. Only two of his victims had had defensive wounds; the rest had not known they were about to die until the blood was spewing out of their necks. He was, Fox thought, an entirely average man approaching sixty, bald-headed, blocky featured, with a flat nose. But then you saw the eyes, pale and blue, and sharp, hard. There was a sparkle in them now as he saw her, but she could see the dead behind it.

‘Please,’ Bent said, ‘sit. I get so few visitors, and very few so attractive.’

Fox settled into the seat, sitting upright, hands in her lap. She saw the slight twitch at the corners of his lips and knew he thought she was nervous. ‘Do you pay attention to the news feeds, Mister Bent?’

‘No introductions?’

He knew who she was: they had had to go through official procedures to get her in and, since she was no longer with NAPA, that had included asking Bent if he would accept the meeting. Like he was going to refuse. ‘I’m Tara Meridian. I work for Palladium Security Solutions.’

‘I watch the news feeds, Tara,’ Bent said. ‘I know you do a little more than working for Palladium.’

‘I’m head of the investigation division. You’ll have noticed that someone’s taken up killing prostitutes.’

‘Undoubtedly the man who killed six of the women I was imprisoned for. I hope you catch him and then, perhaps, I can see justice done.’

‘The MO is different–’

‘More violent, more extreme, yes.’ His eyes lit up again. ‘An escalation of aggression. My belief is that he was locked up for some, unrelated, crime and has returned to old habits wound up from lack of expression. Why, he was probably in this very building for seven years. They had him and they let him go.’

‘I believe it’s more likely that this is an imitator.’

‘One of my “disciples,” Tara? The fools who follow me around like sheep?’

‘What do you know about them?’

‘Only what I’m told. I’m not allowed access to the internet. All my contacts are screened. I find them pathetic. Fixating on someone who denies most of the acts they believe show such… godlike powers.’ He smiled with a mouth full of stained teeth. ‘They are… bent in two by their desire to emulate the myth of me and their inability to act.’

‘Bent in two… Clever.’

‘I believe Mister Bent is indicating that he does have access to the internet,’ Kit said into Fox’s head.

‘Quite possibly. We’re going to go see Vali later.’

‘He may still be reluctant to give names, and I have been unable to track anything down.’

‘I’m not going to ask for names, yet.’

‘There are the women, of course,’ Bent went on. ‘So many women see me for what I am. Misunderstood. A product of my upbringing. Once they get to know me, they come to love me. I’d certainly like to get to know you, Tara. I find you… fascinating.’

‘Which upbringing would that be?’ Fox asked, a hard edge developing in her voice. ‘The abusive mother? The rapist mother? The smothering one? The hooker who made you watch or the nurse who never had time for you?’

‘My mother was–’

‘As for getting to know me,’ Fox interrupted, leaning forward and placing her elbows on the table, ‘well, that’s not going to happen. I mean, you’re in here until they ship you to the Moon or you croak, and I’m out there in the sunlight. And, let’s face a few facts here, I am so far out of your league I’m on another continent.’ She was smiling now, amused.

‘I–’

‘I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole and full protective gear. God, I could do better than you if I trawled the Sprawl for ten minutes.’

The sudden change in attitude had Bent’s cheeks reddening. Anger replaced the sparkle in his dead eyes. ‘Bitch, I’ll–’

‘You’ll what? You’re a spent force. An impotent, useless pervert who couldn’t get a woman with half a brain to put out.’ He jerked forward, stopped an inch or so away from Fox’s face by the chains. Fox did not move. ‘And that’s another thing. I like to move when I fuck, Silas, not just twitch. You couldn’t handle it. You’d pop like a cork after five seconds and I like a man who can satisfy.’

‘You’re dead,’ Bent growled. ‘I’ll see to it. You’ll see.’

Fox got to her feet. ‘I expect you’ll have company in here soon, Silas. And people have threatened me before. Never twice. If one of your idiot followers comes after me, I’ll bury him, and then I’ll make it my life goal to get you sent to Cold Harbour. Guy like you won’t last a week up there before someone teaches you what a real tough guy is. Seriously, “covering your ass” takes on a whole new meaning.’ She walked to the door and hit the buzzer to request exit. Bent said nothing as she walked out.

‘Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone play him like that,’ Ungar said as he emerged from the observation room with Prank.

‘We’ll probably have to sedate him to get him back to his cell,’ Prank said.

‘Bigger problem,’ Fox told them. ‘Somehow or other, he’s getting internet access.’

Ungar frowned. ‘You’re sure?’

‘Ninety per cent. He was being smart about it. Couldn’t resist letting a little hint drop. If I can get something more on it, I’ll let you know, but you might want to start checking.’

‘Oh, I’ll have my techs crawl up his ass with a microscope.’

‘Eww, better them than me. Can we get the process started to get me out of here? I want to go home and take a really long, hot shower.’

‘Of course. Sure.’ Ungar started off down the corridor and Prank fell into step beside Fox as she followed.

‘You know,’ Prank said a little warily, ‘if he does have internet access, his threat could be real.’

‘I know,’ Fox replied. ‘So was mine.’

Vali’s Homestead, Niflhel.

‘You seem very relaxed, Zorra,’ Vali said as he set cups of mead down before Fox and Kit.

‘Well, I’m on wireless and my body’s in a hot tub,’ Fox told him, grinning.

Kit decided not to comment on that, but she had been through the stage before the hot tub, where Fox had spent thirty minutes furiously washing every part of herself, three times. At one point, Fox had asked for a scrubbing brush and both Kit and Belle had suggested that was unwise. ‘We have a favour to ask, concerning some of the posters on your forums,’ Kit said.

‘I went to see Silas Bent today,’ Fox said and Vali raised a hand.

‘I would be loath to give out names for my users without good reason.’

‘That’s what Kit said, and I understand that. Actually, I find it commendable, which is why I won’t ask for them.’

Vali frowned. ‘Go on,’ he said warily.

‘I believe Bent has somehow managed to get internet access. He shouldn’t have it, but he made certain comments which suggest he has. Kit will give you a full recording of my interview with him and you can see for yourself. If you agree that it seems probable, I’d like you to see if you can work out how he’s doing it, because I think he’s coming to your forums. If you can find evidence suggesting access to your servers from within Rikers, we can do something about it.’

‘That… I can do,’ Vali said.

Kit beamed at him and took a small, wooden box from, apparently, nowhere to place on the table. ‘I knew you would agree to that. This has the visual and auditory recording in it. I hope the design meets your theme.’

‘It does, thank you.’

‘If nothing else, I think you’ll enjoy Zorra’s performance.’

‘It wasn’t bad,’ Fox said, ‘even if I do say so myself.’

Vali raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’

New York Metro, 7th October.

Someone had tipped off the news channels and there was coverage of the discovery of a woman’s body in Jersey all over them. Fox’s preferred news source, IB-62, was being fairly level-headed about it, but Fox had no doubt, as she streamed the report in the shower, that there was far more sensational reporting going on.

‘INN is not too bad,’ Kit reported, ‘but IB-Nineteen has rather more detail than one might expect and is playing on the connection to the email they received. Several of the smaller channels are hyping the hysteria with suggestions that “Jack” may strike at anyone.’

Fox gave a grunt and switched to the dryers. ‘Is anyone reporting a response from NAPA?’ IB-62 had said the police were unavailable for comment, but had noted that Rutherford had been assigned to the case.

‘No. They are staying very quiet.’

‘Fox,’ Belle’s voice cut in, ‘there is a Detective Rutherford at the door demanding admittance.’

‘Really?’ Fox replied. ‘She can’t have been to bed. Let her in, and put her in the downstairs lounge. If Sam or Marie are awake, let them know she’s here and keep them out of the way.’

Rutherford was standing in front of the mock fireplace when Fox walked into the lounge and closed the door. The detective’s demeanour was dour. You could almost see the black cloud hanging over her head. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ Rutherford roared immediately.

Fox raised an eyebrow and sat down on the loveseat, crossing her legs casually at the ankles. ‘Perhaps you could enlighten me. What is it that I’m doing that warrants an f-bomb?’

‘The media leaks. It has to be–’

‘Stop right now. You either back up this assertion with some hard facts, or I set the Palladium legal team loose on you. Let me remind you that NAPA have the case files and I don’t get them until tomorrow.’

‘IA say that–’

‘Inspector Robbard?’

Rutherford’s anger stalled. ‘How did you know that he was involved?’

‘Didn’t, but it makes sense. We stung him on the Doran and Deedle murder cases. He doesn’t like me. Which is fair since I don’t like him.’

‘Well, he’s crawling up my ass about these leaks.’

‘So you thought you’d blame me? What possible reason would I have for giving the media anything about this case?’

‘Well…’

‘So you’re fishing. Going to try the Sisters next? I think you should look closer to home. Robbard won’t like it, unless he can pin it on a cop he doesn’t like. So don’t make him pissed off at you. He’ll hang you out to dry so fast you’ll wonder how you missed the washing machine.’

‘I’m the primary on the case.’

‘And the bigger the media attention gets, the more likely it is they’ll take it off you and hand it to someone more senior. If he kills in the MCD, you’re fucked. As it is… What’s that? Five dead?’

‘Not sure,’ Rutherford mumbled. She was worried about getting the case taken off her, Fox could tell.

‘Not sure?’

‘This latest one has some inconsistencies.’ Rutherford frowned, avoiding Fox’s eyes. ‘Damn. You’re going to see the reports tomorrow anyway. This last one, the throat cut was done with a long-bladed weapon. The previous ones were precise cuts with a short blade. This one was sloppier about the abdomen cut too.’

‘Copycat. You’ve got two killers out there. If the media get that detail, all Hell will break loose.’

‘I haven’t written it down in so many words yet.’

‘You should. Cover your ass, Rutherford, even if you write it down as a suspicion. IA will have your butt in a sling if there’s anything wrong with your files, and your captain can assign more manpower. And, on the bright side, tomorrow I’ll be able to actually help properly. I’m good, Detective, and I have way better toys than you.’

‘You’re going to need them. We got trace with this last one, nothing definitive, but some. That’s another difference. The other four… It’s like this guy’s a ghost. He leaves nothing behind but a corpse.’

8th October.

‘Two things of import,’ Kit said into Fox’s head as the rush of water from the shower heads washed away sleep.

‘Of import? Someone’s been reading a dictionary.’

‘I don’t need to read one; I am one. Vali sent me a note early this morning. Username BentInTwo accesses Niflhel from a terminal in the prison. He got the terminal’s IP address and equipment ID, but that’s as far as he can go without committing the kind of illegal act which would negate the purpose.’

‘It’s nice to know your boyfriend is as bright as he seems. Forward the data to Captain Ungar with as much explanation as you feel is needed. Shouldn’t need much. “Someone in your prison is accessing a murder discussion forum” should have him turning over rocks pretty quickly.’

‘He seemed like a good cop.’

‘He was a good cop. Now he’s a good warden. Takes one to run that place. What was the other thing?’

‘The request for the case files from NAPA cleared and I’m already integrating the information into the murder room.’

‘That was fast.’

‘The request was put through at one minute after midnight. The judicial analysis was done by AI soon after. Our case was quite clear-cut and did not require human intervention. Final clearance was granted at eight oh three, by Detective Rutherford. I took a few cycles to consider this turn of events and concluded that Detective Rutherford is quite desperate, but you may have got through to her a little yesterday.’

‘Sounds like a reasonable assertion. You have the details on the new homicide?’

‘Miss Belladonna Anders, registered prostitute with a regular pitch on Ravine Avenue in the Jersey Housing Combine. She was killed just after midnight yesterday. The perpetrator used a steel blade, fifteen to thirty centimetres in length. Metallurgical analysis of fragments found in the wounds and the wound patterns suggests a hunting knife. Detective Rutherford was not quite correct about lack of trace on the previous victims, however.’

‘They got evidence of surgical steel in the wounds before, right?’

‘You are, of course, correct. This, combined with the frankly amateur nature of the cutting on Miss Anders’ body, suggests a different person is involved. There are two mutilation murderers in the metro.’

‘Swell.’ Fox shut off the water, squeezed water from her hair with her hands, and turned on the air streams. ‘Well, the second one isn’t BentInTwo. We’ll leave him to Ungar. Concentrate on RipperFan. Identifying him could lead us to killer number two.’

‘I’ll do my best, but I should point out that I am not hopeful. I believe this identity is kept only for accessing Niflhel.’

‘You might get lucky. We’ll go over and look around where Anders was killed, get a feel for it. Then we’ll go see Naomi. This is closer to their house than the others and they’re obvious targets.’

~~~

The Jersey Housing Combine had grown from a need for affordable housing to service the metro in the forties. Grown was the operative word: design had had little or nothing to do with it. It was not the Sprawl, but it was as close as you got while still having an income. Huge, multi-occupancy blocks rose haphazardly into the sky, grey and ugly for the most part, linked together above street level by bridges and slideways. Down on the ground, the old street layout was still there, but if you flew over it, you would be hard-pressed to tell.

In the south, around what had been Downtown Jersey City, things were a little better. There was adequate transport from the LI-line and the housing was a little higher in quality. To the north, up as far as the disused Lincoln Tunnel, things got worse. As jobs had decreased, some of the far northern buildings had become little more than squats for sprawlers with the muscle to hold a roof against challengers. Belladonna Anders had not plied her trade in the best of locales.

The alley where she had been killed showed evidence of a few rough sleepers, but none were there now and, Fox guessed, none had been there to see the killing. Even the dumbest murderer knew to avoid obvious witnesses. Anyway, NAPA had taken the death seriously and canvassed anyone they could find in the area, knocked on doors in the buildings around the site. But the alley had no windows overlooking it, and screams were not uncommon where street crime was high: no one had seen or heard anything alarming.

‘Most of the people around here don’t get alarmed unless someone stuffs a gun in their face,’ Fox commented silently.

‘The authorities seem to have sanitised the area as well as the other scene,’ Kit said.

‘With a little more reason. The residents pay less attention to police tape so preserving the scene is fairly pointless. Nothing much to see. We’ll head for the chapter house.’

‘Hey, lady, nice jacket. I’ll take it and anything else you got.’ Fox turned to see a six-foot-plus gorilla in badly scuffed denim approaching her from down the alley. Broad daylight, or what passed for it in the canyons of the Combine, and he was trying to mug her. ‘Not a good place to be hanging,’ he added for emphasis.

Fox raised her right hand, forming a fist and then popping the blade in it in place of a middle finger. ‘Spin on it. And when you’re done, start walking the other way.’

The ape stopped, his face scrunching into something like distaste though with the scar across his nose it was hard to tell the expression from his normal one. ‘Shit! I ain’t touching no fucking borg.’ He began backing away and Fox watched him until he turned and walked off.

Pulling her knife back in, Fox asked Kit, ‘Is the cab still waiting?’

‘As requested.’

‘Right, let’s go see Naomi.’

~~~

‘Two of them?’ Naomi frowned and stared at the carpet of her lounge.

‘And this second one is killing in Jersey, a lot closer to home,’ Fox said. ‘You need to take precautions.’

‘We’re safe in here. I’ll make sure anyone going out takes extra care, and we have an outreach programme we can use to spread the word. That’s already being done, but we can add extra warnings.’

‘Did you know Belladonna Anders?’

Naomi looked up, her eyes unfocused for a second. ‘She did her training here. Promising girl, but there are outreach notes indicating she got into drugs. Bliss, mostly, but she’d take Cupie if the pay was right.’

‘Assuming she could remember she’d been paid to take it,’ Fox muttered, pushing the cold feeling in her stomach aside.

‘A disgusting abuse of biochemistry. Whoever created it should be locked in a box for eternity.’

‘You’re not hearing me argue.’

Naomi was far too good at listening. She frowned. ‘You’ve had it used on you.’

‘No,’ Fox replied flatly. ‘I’ve never had Cupie used on me. It was formulated for NIX, as a seduction aid. I had the original version used on me and it’s a lot more subtle. Your memory is vague rather than gone and you come away thinking you just wanted to go crazy in bed. From what I read, Cupie turns you into an animal and you don’t remember a thing for half a day. It can blot out the fact you took it too, which is why it makes a good date-rape drug. Plus, there are the idiots who give someone a second dose to keep it going, and then you can get hyperthermia and death. No, I’ve never had Cupie used on me, but I don’t see the alternative as different.’

‘No. They caught the man responsible? I assume it was a man.’

‘Was a man, now a corpse. I shot him. He was trying to kill me at the time.’

Naomi was silent for a second. ‘I’m required to say that I don’t believe in execution as a form of justice. Forgiveness is one of our highest dictums.’

‘Neither do I. It’s damn hard to do the right thing sometimes, isn’t it?’

‘Exceptionally hard. God chooses to test us in the cruellest of ways at times.’

~~~

The room was cold and the light was thin, a dim glow from a few LED bulbs set behind frosted-over glass. The only sound was the hum of the refrigeration units. The Sisters kept food there, for the most part, though their stock of perishable drugs for the clinic was located in one corner and a section was set aside for Sister Bridget to work in when she did ice sculptures for the brothel.

The sound, when it came, was like someone cutting through heavy cardboard with a knife and it was followed by punching and tearing. A figure, tall and dark, stepped free of a box and oriented himself carefully. The door, of course, could be opened from the inside for safety reasons, which was ironic under the circumstances.

The corridor outside the storage room was no more brightly lit than the fridge and just as empty. It was late and the women in the rooms above would be in bed or preparing for it. He waited, looking up as though he could penetrate the structure and see them. There was work to be done here, so much work, but he could wait a little longer, until he was sure he would be undisturbed. Patience was, as the Sisters would tell you, a virtue.

~~~

Marie put every gram of confidence she had into walking across the stage area to the sofa. She was not entirely sure what Miss Bournville had been thinking when she had made the booking, but ‘thrown in at the deep end’ kept springing to mind. There had been briefing and preparation, with both Miss Bournville and reps from IB-19, and still Marie felt she had never been less prepared for anything.

Straight Talk was a late-night, adult chat show running on the Athena channel. Athena had been set up to run programmes angled toward a female audience of all persuasions. They ran daytime soaps, dramas, even girl-oriented, lightweight porn on weekend nights. Straight Talk was their serious chat show, running late on a Friday night and presented by Elaine Resnik and Charlene ‘Charlie’ Iberson, who double-teamed the interviews. Iberson was a sort of celebrity lesbian and feminist, noted for being outspoken, and Marie had no idea how she was going to react to M. J.

Well, it started out well enough. Iberson sat behind the desk the two women shared looking vaguely severe, but then she always did. She liked to be seen as feminine, but tough and kept her bleached hair cut short with the sides shaved back. She was slim and very attractive, but her blue eyes were hard, icy. She crossed her arms. ‘Okay, Elaine, I think we should get the girlie crap out of the way early. Ask our guest about her dress so I can order one behind everyone’s back and still look cool.’

Resnik was a brunette and more conventionally attractive than her colleague. Her brown eyes were warm and, while Iberson was noted for fairly hard-hitting, often snarky, questions, Resnik was perceptive, quick-witted, and sometimes viciously probing. She smiled. ‘A voice in my ear is telling me to compliment you on your dress, Marie. Where did you get it?’

The dress in question was a black tank, mid-thigh so not too short, but the sides were made of plazkin with large holes in it creating tantalising glimpses of flesh and, Marie had to admit, she had selected it because she had a suspicion Iberson would find it intriguing. ‘Well, Elaine, I’m not really famous and I was unknown until last week so my wardrobe is a little thin. So I called a friend, Lucille Graves. I modelled some of her designs a couple of months ago for her website and she basically gave me the run of the list since she’s trying to get her business going and I seem to have stumbled into some exposure.’

‘That’s a good choice of words,’ Iberson commented.

‘And we’ve come to the end of the “girlie crap,”’ Resnik said without missing a beat. ‘Marie Shaftsbury, as you say, a total unknown thrust into the spotlight as possibly the only good thing in the recent IB-Nineteen production M. J. and the Ripper.’

‘Definitely the only good thing,’ Iberson said, ‘though… I’ll give the writer some credit for not ruining the character.’

‘How did you get involved with the project?’

‘Oh, well, my agent, Isabella Bournville, has been putting me forward for a few roles and she thought I was the right fit for this one. M. J. had to have a certain look, which I fit, and there was a physicality to the role which I could handle. Honestly, the project was proposed as an experiment by the producer, Nathan Shark, to see whether audiences would accept more adult programming on IB-Nineteen. They didn’t have a huge budget, so they went with unknowns, but from my point of view it’s great. I’d never normally get a chance at something as meaty as this.’

‘Meaty is right,’ Iberson said, ‘in many senses of the word. You don’t think the nudity took away from the character, I assume?’

‘No,’ Marie said flatly. ‘Now you can say that the premise was set up to provide opportunities for me to strip off, and the uniform the Sisters wear is, obviously, somewhat risqué, but M. J. is a strong character and sex is part of her nature. She has no qualms about showing off her body, and why should she? Why should anyone under the right circumstances? The stream was age-controlled and there were warnings before it ran so no one should be watching it if they’re going to be offended by breasts or any other body part. And I thought it was well done. Even the sex scene was tasteful.’

‘You mentioned the uniform,’ Resnik continued. ‘I understand you spent a week with the Sisters of the Church of Saint Nicholas as preparation for the role.’

‘I wanted to get M. J. just right and I got lucky. My friend trained with them and knows the Sister Superior. Sister Naomi allowed me the privilege of attending as a novice. I was one of the Sisters for a week. I did chores, attended lectures, and played cards before bed.’

‘You were a prostitute?’

‘Oh no, novices aren’t licensed so they can’t work. I’m not sure I could do it, to be honest. It’s okay playing the role, but doing it for real… I don’t think I have the courage.’

‘You think it takes courage?’ Iberson asked. ‘Lying on your back and letting some horny ingrate bang away.’

Marie grinned. Iberson was trying to insult as many people as possible at once with the statement, but Marie had known her statement would get some reaction like that. ‘Especially when the client’s like that. Can you imagine? But no, imagine what it’s like to choose the profession. You’re consigning yourself to being looked down on by just about everyone for providing a service which a lot of people want. Always have, down through the ages. And it’s not just the horny ingrates who want it. M. J. is bisexual and proud of it.’

‘What about you?’

Marie raised an eyebrow. ‘A little personal, but okay. I’ve had relationships with both sexes, but I’m mostly heterosexual. My boyfriend is bi. Personally I think a little variety is good. My ex-girlfriend and I are still friends, and it was… eye-opening.’

‘Okay,’ Resnik said, looking like she wanted to shift the subject back on track, ‘how did you come up with the character of M. J. Kelly?’

‘The writer came up with the basics, obviously. They let me tweak her a bit… Well, quite a lot. I’d spent time with the Sisters and I could lend some authenticity.’

‘That certainly came out in the performance. Rave reviews all around.’

‘Yeah,’ Iberson said, smirking, ‘and my favourite review for your co-star was “the only time there was no wood in his performance was the sex scene.”’

Marie did her best to supress her grin. ‘I assure you there was wood there too. Um, I based M. J. on two people. There’s Sister Naomi. She’s incredible. Sexy, confident, strong-willed, and a great leader. Seriously, you guys should interview her if you want to know about the profession. And there’s my friend, Tara Meridian, who is the top investigator for Palladium Security Solutions. She’s also a strong woman, totally kickass, smart… incredibly smart. Actually, she’s someone else you should get on this show. So M. J. is me, and both of them, mixed up together.’

‘I got the impression you really wanted people to like the character,’ Resnik said. ‘It’s a hard one to provoke empathy with. As you said, people look down on sex workers of all types. Do you see yourself as an advocate for the profession?’

‘Uh… I never really thought about it, but sure. They deserve better than they get. Every last one of them from the ones working the street right up to the high-pay ones in the arcologies and the big houses out on Long Island. All of them work hard and society sees them as… a dirty secret.’

‘And I guess that brings us to something far more serious. It’s been all over the news channels, including our own news scheduling. Someone out there seems to be perpetrating Ripper-like murders on prostitutes. Rumour has it that NAPA is dragging its heels on this one and that the Sisters have asked your friend, Tara Meridian, to investigate. Any comment?’

‘I can’t… won’t comment on the case. To be honest, I don’t know that much. I never met the Senior Sister who was killed, but you have to understand that they have a family there. If one of them is murdered, they all feel it. I know from Tara that this kind of case is difficult. A lot of murders can be cleared up when you find the relationship between killer and victim. It’s sad, but a lot of murders are in the family, or between friends or lovers. With a serial killer, there is no relationship. The victims are selected more or less at random and that makes things difficult, but I’m sure NAPA are doing their best, and I’m positive that Tara will find this guy, stop him, and get him locked up in Cold Harbour until the Moon flies out of orbit.’

9th October.

Gilly looked up at the ceiling and made a soft growl of frustration, trying her best not to wake anyone else. She did not suffer from insomnia that often, but when she did, it was usually a real pain in the ass. And when it did happen, and tonight was certainly one of those nights, she had to give up and do something else for a bit. It was almost half past midnight and if she could relax her brain enough, she might just get a decent night’s sleep after all. Yoga was her preferred option at those times so, being as quiet as possible, she got out of bed, pulled on leggings and a cropped top, and padded on bare feet out of the dorm.

She was on her way down the corridor to the stairs at the end, and one of the lecture rooms below where she could exercise in peace, when she saw a door opening. She figured one of the other Sisters could not sleep either and was about to whisper a hello when she saw the man step out.

He was tall, dark-haired, dressed in black, and she noticed he was smiling. His skin was pale, very pale, which made the blood spattering his face all the clearer. Gilly stopped, blinking, and he saw her and was moving in an instant. She had time to see the silver blades on his fingers as she threw herself backward, as he dashed closer. She started to scream and he was on her. There was a hot, sharp pain in her throat and she grabbed at it as her back hit the floor. The scream died in her throat, blood welling around her fingers. Reflexively, she curled into a tight ball, waiting for the pain to return, and heard running feet, doors opening, other people screaming.

‘Someone get Sister Anne!’

‘Get pressure on that wound!’

Other hands were on her, soft hands. She was going to be okay.

‘There’s so much…’ And the voice faded out as Gilly’s consciousness faded away.

~~~

‘Did you watch it? How did I do?’ Marie was looking somewhere between excited and nervous. Fox was not sure whether the bouncing, which Marie’s dress was really not designed for, was from one emotion or the other.

‘We saw,’ Sam said. ‘I thought you did very well.’

‘You even had Iberson on your side by the end of it,’ Fox said, ‘which is an achievement in itself. Though I think she just wanted you in bed…’

‘Oh, she didn’t,’ Marie said, grinning. The grin faded a bit. ‘You think?’

‘You’re talking to two people who are ill-equipped to deny your attractiveness,’ Sam said. ‘However, I believe she was also swayed by your passion for the role and the profession. I was rather proud of your defence of a job you don’t believe you could do. Now, sit down before you pop out of that dress.’

‘It’s taped. I can’t pop out. Fox? What’s wrong?’

The expression on Fox’s face had wiped all the enthusiasm from Marie’s mind in an instant. Her words did worse. ‘Someone got into the chapter house. Three of the Sisters are dead.’ Fox was on her feet and moving before either of them could react. ‘I have to get over there. There are RRUs on the way now.’

Sam and Marie looked at each other. ‘We’re coming with you,’ Sam said.

‘Well, I don’t have time to argue or wait. If you’re coming, get a move on.’

Part Three: Criminal Minds

New York Metro, 9th October 2060.

Fox was climbing out of the autocab almost before it had stopped, Sam and then Marie hot on her heels. They headed straight for the main entrance of the chapter house where an RRU was standing guard, standing on its six solid legs and somehow managing to look alert despite having no face to speak of. The air was filled with the howl of vertol engines as Pythia’s transport came to a landing in the empty lot opposite. Fox waited for the engines to start to shut down before speaking.

‘George, report.’

‘I arrived on scene four minutes and sixteen seconds after the alert was raised,’ the RRU responded immediately. ‘Long-range viewing showed an adult male exiting the building in haste and I diverted to pursue. However, the suspected target eluded me. I was unable to track him after he entered a container storage facility near the river. Determining that client safety was paramount, I came here to ascertain the current situation inside. Another two RRUs arrived some nine minutes three seconds later and are deployed in a search of the container yard.’

‘Okay. And what is the situation inside?’

‘Three clients have been confirmed as deceased, one is injured. A medevac unit has been dispatched and will arrive in one hundred and thirty-two seconds.’

‘Did you get names?’ Marie asked urgently.

‘I am sorry, Miss Shaftsbury, I did not.’

‘Okay, George. Thanks for getting here so quickly.’

‘That is my job, Miss Shaftsbury. Miss Meridian, Sister Naomi Lind informed me that she would be in the clinic when you arrived.’

‘Thanks, George.’ Fox started up the steps to the main entrance as Dillan ran across from the vertol. ‘You made good time.’

‘I was awake,’ Dillan replied, ‘and they keep Pythia fuelled and ready.’

‘Yeah. Start deploying the forensic gear; we’re going to need it.’ Dillan did an abrupt about-face while Fox, Sam, and Marie continued into the building to find Naomi.

They found her, as George had indicated, in the clinic, standing near the door and watching Anne and another Sister working on a girl lying on one of the beds. There was a lot of blood on all three, and on the over-sized T-shirt which was what Naomi had yanked on when the alarms had sounded.

‘Oh God, it’s Gilly!’ Marie’s exclamation made Naomi turn.

‘She’s stable,’ Naomi said. ‘Anne stabilised her, closed the wound, but she’s lost a lot of blood. We need to get her to a hospital.’

Fox checked the data feeds she was getting from Palladium. ‘We have a medevac unit landing outside now. Get her out front and she’ll be in the new tower in fifteen minutes.’

‘We didn’t contract for medical–’ Naomi stopped as she noticed the stare Fox was giving her. ‘You don’t care what the contract says.’

‘The contract says that we provide security for this building and, until I determine that this guy got in in some way we couldn’t stop, we have failed. So we’re going to take care of Gilly there and no one is going to bitch about it. But you’re right, I don’t care about the contract. She’s Marie’s friend and I’d pay for the care out of my own pocket if I had to. MarTech tower three has the best medical facility in the metro, maybe the country, and we’re wasting time.’

Naomi turned again. ‘Anne, get her ready to move. There’s a medical transport outside to take her for treatment.’

‘I’m going with her,’ Anne said as she shifted into preparation rather than treatment mode.

‘I’d like to go too,’ Marie added.

‘Evac unit only takes the patient,’ Fox said, frowning. ‘Those things are good, she’ll be under the care of the AI in flight, and they have a full medical trauma kit aboard. Hold on… Okay, we have five security people coming in to help me and post guard. I’ll send you back on their transport and make sure you’re cleared through to the medical section. Naomi, I need clearance from you to get my forensic kit to work on the victims and begin a search.’

Naomi frowned. ‘All business today, aren’t we?’

‘Naomi–’ Sam began, but Fox cut him off.

‘I need to be. So do you. Let me get on with finding out how this happened and catching the bastard, and let Sam help you with the others. They’re going to be shocked. Their home has been invaded. They need you to take control and get everyone settled.’

The Sister Superior nodded, her brow still furrowed. ‘Do what you have to do.’

Fox turned away and walked out into the corridor, connecting to Dillan as she went. ‘Helen, get Pythia moving. I want the forensics units on the crime scene ten minutes ago.’

‘We’ve got a couple of Ryan’s troops here with those crime assist vests,’ Dillan responded. ‘Three more for security and crowd control.’

‘Right. I’ll come down and brief them; you get Pythia going. It’s going to be a long night.’

~~~

Fox stood in the doorway of a dorm room, her eyes on one of the three bodies sprawled on bunks inside, but her vision filled with data from the forensic units which were working the scene. Three victims, each killed with quick, efficient strikes which had opened their throats in a neat line, bisecting arteries and veins. Death had come quickly and, from the way they were lying, in their sleep. They had felt nothing, known nothing. They had certainly been dead before he had opened them up like he was filleting fish and begun emptying their abdomens of organs. The swarms were still working, but they would do the accounting and determine what he had taken.

‘Anne called,’ Naomi said from behind her. ‘Gilly’s prognosis is good.’

‘I know. I’ve got a direct feed from the doctors working on her. Severe blood loss, but they’ve repaired the blood vessels and closed the wound, and they’re replacing the plasma. Could have been a lot worse. Anne saved her life.’

‘I… should apologise for earlier.’

‘No, you shouldn’t.’ Fox turned around. Naomi had changed into her uniform: authority in skimpy dress form to help the Sister Superior get through the last hour. Sam was standing behind her, a little way back to give them room. ‘I’m not going to either, because it was what was needed then. How are the Sisters?’

‘We’ve moved everyone off this floor for now. Put some of them in larger rooms for now. It’s a good thing we aren’t full. They… probably aren’t sleeping.’

‘Understandable. I’ve got the forensic units going over this room. I did a quick scan of the corridor, but I don’t think it’s worth doing in detail. We’ll have a clean-up team come in and fix it up. I’d like to seal this room for now. Move the bodies out, but hold the scene.’

Naomi gave a nod. ‘You’ll want to do autopsies.’

‘If you have no objections. Though I doubt we’ll get more than the swarms can find since they have more access than usual.’ The emotional responses Fox had spent the last hour suppressing made it known that they were not going to stay under forever and she scowled back into the room. ‘You remember that conversation about doing the right thing?’

‘Yes. God is testing my faith in a particularly cruel fashion tonight. She might just have gone too far this time.’

‘Not that I believe in God, but this happening in a building we secure means I got to run forensics, and I get the crime scene for a couple of days before we have to hand this over to NAPA. I’ll say I got a break I wasn’t expecting in the investigation, and you can say God helped in one of her inscrutable ways, if it helps.’

Naomi’s lips curled a little at the corners. ‘Thank you, it does. I don’t understand how this happened. How did he get in?’

‘Good question. We got images of him leaving, so he’s not using camouflage. No good images. He was keeping his head down so Gilly is our best bet for a full facial. I’ve got one of Pythia’s drones, two security people, and Helen Dillan searching for the answer to that now. We’ll– Hold on.’ Fox switched to internal communications. ‘Helen?’

‘Can you come down to the cold storage room? We’ve got something, but neither Nebbs nor I can figure out what.’

‘On my way.’ Aloud, Fox said, ‘Cold storage. Helen thinks they’ve found something.’

‘In the fridge?!’ Naomi asked.

Fox shrugged. ‘Considering this guy shouldn’t have been able to get in without being seen, we’re looking for something well out of the ordinary. The fridge is almost too ordinary. I was starting to worry someone had invented a teleporter.’

~~~

‘Okay,’ Fox said, ‘it’s a box.’ The lights in the storage room were up to full now, but it was still cold. The only person who looked comfortable was Nebbs in her Palladium uniform. And they were all looking at a box about a metre on each side with its top ripped open.

‘Yeah,’ Dillan said. ‘It’s an empty box. The code on the side says it should contain beef packets, various cuts.’

‘So it got emptied.’

‘Delivery date was yesterday.’

‘We would not go through an entire crate of beef in a day,’ Naomi put in.

‘No,’ Dillan said, ‘didn’t think so, but it’s not just that. Nebbs, tell them what your fashion statement says.’

Nebbs was not what one might think of as a security officer at first glance. She was not tall, and the uniform masked her build, but Fox knew how those outfits hung and Nebbs could probably flatten a strong man without breaking a sweat. Her black hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail, and her brown eyes looked a little nervous. ‘The carton is designed to be sealed against contaminants. The joints are all welded except for the lid, which has molecular bonding tape closing all the seams. The tape has been cut with a very sharp blade. I detected a couple of small fragments of metal stuck in the adhesive, but I can’t analyse it with this kit.’

‘We’ll get a forensics swarm in here,’ Fox said.

‘Yes, ma’am, but I can look at the cut, magnified, and it seems to have been done from inside the box. The tear patterns on the lid also appear to indicate that pressure was applied from below. There are knuckle marks in one of the panels, again from below.’

There was silence for a second and then Sam said, ‘Just so we’re clear, the suggestion here is that someone had himself sealed into a box, with no air holes. He made sure that the box would be delivered to the cold storage room here, where he waited a day before breaking out. Then he walked upstairs and killed three women. That’s what we’re proposing.’

‘It’s just about possible,’ Fox said. ‘The right equipment and you could do it. Lying in that box for a couple of days, barely moving… It would be tough, very tough, and you’d probably go nuts, but then this guy was nuts when he went in.’

‘So he delivers himself to us,’ Naomi said, ‘and ends up in a section with no camera coverage because you can’t get past the cameras to get here.’

‘Yeah. Ryan Jarvis, head of Palladium security, is going to be here in about an hour to suggest that you kick him from here to the spaceport. I suggest you politely decline. On the other hand, don’t let him tell you he told you so because his people should have pushed harder for more coverage. Hell, I should have when I came around with Marie.’

‘We got what we asked for.’

‘And if you start blaming yourself for this, I’ll be the one doing the kicking. Yes, it could have been avoided, or the damage reduced, but this is something so far outside the box, no pun intended, that you cannot be blamed for not seeing it coming.’

‘I’ll do my best to remember that at the funerals.’

~~~

‘How is she?’ Fox asked.

‘The same,’ Marie replied, her eyes not moving from the girl in the bed. ‘I’ll defer to the medic present for the details.’

Sister Anne gave Fox a bleak smile. ‘She’s stable and she’ll recover. They closed the vessels and reinforced them, closed up the wound, and pumped her full of artificial plasma. She probably won’t even have a scar, but they’ll need to wait for her to wake up to be sure the blood loss didn’t result in any brain damage.’

‘I’ll keep my fingers crossed,’ Fox said. ‘Sister Naomi will be over to see her in an hour or so. She’s currently discussing extra camera coverage with Ryan.’

‘I don’t think there’ll be any objections. Not after this. Did you get anything from the forensics?’

‘More mystery. Even with all our equipment, the guy leaves nothing behind. He had to be wearing a suit, but there’s nothing visible in the video from the security system. We’ve got flakes of surgical-grade steel from the blades he uses, and when we catch him, we can tie those to his knives metallurgically. But… No skin cells, no hairs. We got a few fibres from what looks like a black, waterproof coat. Those were in a box in the cold storage room, which appears to be how he got in, but that’s just more weirdness.’

‘A box in cold storage?’ Marie asked, puzzled.

‘Yeah. He has to have got into the packing plant, labelled a box, got into it as it was going into the sealing machine, and then waited for at least two days while it’s delivered right past the security cameras. Two days, sealed up in a box. I’m starting to think he’s not human.’

‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’

‘No… I’m going to grab a couple of hours’ sleep. You two should do the same.’ Fox turned from the room and started out. ‘Kit,’ she said, silently, ‘check on Terri’s availability tomorrow. I want to talk to her about homicidal AIs.’

10th October.

‘Well, of course it’s not impossible,’ Terri said, ‘but it can’t just happen. Someone would have to deliberately program an AI to be a killer.’

Despite it being a Sunday, Terri was working in one of the AI labs, and that was where Fox had found her, along with a rat which was running around the floor between and under the desks. It was a little distracting, but Terri seemed oblivious. ‘So we’d be talking a military programme, or NIX,’ Fox said, her eyes on the rat, which was currently washing its whiskers. It did look like a lab rat, white-furred and plump, and clearly not caring about the humans.

‘Probably. You see, there are protocols. Every AI we design, including Kit, has to have behavioural control protocols. They obey laws and they won’t develop mental kinks that might result in harm. It’s coded into their minds at a pretty basic level. It’s not impossible for them to break the rules, but it’s pretty hard, and they’d probably turn themselves in if they did.’

‘But someone could leave those protocols out?’

‘Illegally, yes. Every AI put into production has to be run through a series of psychological tests before release. No pass, no sales, and you’re required to scrap the software and start from scratch. It’s assumed that the flaw is fundamental.’

‘What about experimental models? I mean, you said they had to be tested to go out for sale. If that wasn’t intended…’

‘Prior to testing, you have to keep the code on secured servers. No access outside the local network.’

Fox grunted. ‘Even NIX aren’t useless enough to lose two projects like this. And the thing that infected Doran and Deedle seemed to have purpose: it just got outside its normal operating parameters. I guess we’re probably dealing with a human. A really dedicated, insane human.’

‘Probably,’ Terri agreed.

Fox watched as the rat finished with its whiskers and darted under a desk. ‘Terri… AI labs aren’t noted for pets. What’s with the rat?’

‘Agnus? She’s not a rat. Or, she is a rat, but not a real one. She’s our only success from the Akh project. So far.’

‘Don’t recall that one.’

‘Immortality in digital form. We use nanomachines to take a brain apart and analyse the structure. The results are converted to a program which emulates the original brain.’ She paused. ‘It’s obviously a lot more complicated than that.’

‘Yeah. I’d kind of figured it would be.’

‘Yeah. So it works on rats. And if they stick to a viron we created for them, they do okay. They don’t even know they’re software. When we try to take them out… What you see there is a cyberframe with a v-tag overlaying the image. Agnus is the only one we managed to get to function in the frame. Took to it like…’

‘A rat to cheese?’

‘Ha ha, but pretty much. All the others go totally bug-o. One was irretrievable. Totally lost it even when we put him back in the viron. Just sat in a corner and shivered. We had to turn the poor little guy off. We’re a fair way off human testing, but if we ever even want to think about it, we’re going to have to understand what the problem is.’

‘Who’d want to have their brain reduced to mush and coded into a computer?’

‘You’d be amazed, but it really is something people are considering. You’d never die. You’d be out there, swimming in the internet ocean.’

Fox could see that Terri had considered the option more than a little seriously. ‘Until someone kicks the plug out.’

‘Huh. Hey, a thought comes to mind. There was a project up in Boston last year. Um… Criminal Minds, they called it. They were using AIs to explore the mental processes inherent in various criminals, serial murderers primarily. A couple of papers came out of it and then it was shut down last December.’

‘Why?’

‘Not sure. Funding was probably pulled. No commercial application or some such shit. Maybe they could shed some light on your killer.’

Fox frowned. ‘If it was shut down…’

‘People are still around. And maybe they have more data you could use to add detail to your profile. Hell, if it’s promising, maybe Palladium could get the project running again and get more data.’

‘Okay. Fancy an outing to Boston?’

Terri blinked. ‘Me?’

‘You speak psychologist and AI programmer, and I don’t.’

Terri looked at the virtual displays hanging over the desk she was using. ‘I have to have this wrapped today, which is why I’m in here… I guess I’m free tomorrow. If you track down the people from the project, I can go with you. Might be fun to do some investigation. Fieldwork, I mean.’

‘Okay, good. Just don’t get too carried away. I have to brief NAPA first thing tomorrow. We can head out about midday.’

‘Looking forward to it.’

Airborne, Northbound over the Atlantic, 11th October.

‘I have had some difficulty locating all the people involved with the project,’ Kit said, sounding apologetic and a little annoyed.

‘Kit,’ Fox said, ‘if you’re having trouble, I’d say it indicates they’re hard to find, not that you haven’t done your job.’ Fox was watching Terri pilot the vertol; Terri had insisted on flying the aircraft saying that Fox got to fly Pythia’s ship.

‘Thank you, Fox. I have located two of the senior members and arranged interviews with them this afternoon. I will continue to look for more of them, but we will not be able to talk to all of them.’

‘Why so?’

‘We would need a medium. Three of the team have died since the project was closed down. One committed suicide, two died of natural causes. I have considered the probabilities and this seems slightly excessive.’

Fox nodded. ‘See if you can get details of the deaths.’

‘I will. Oh, a message from Captain Ungar came through just as we were taking off. They have started proceedings to move Silas Bent to Cold Harbour.’

‘Data came through?’

‘They located the machine Mister Bent was using to access the internet, and the guard who was supplying him with access to that machine. The guard is now awaiting trial and Captain Ungar now has a solid argument for shipping Mister Bent to a more secure facility.’

‘If your second killer is one of his disciples,’ Terri said, ‘that news might cause issues. He might step up the programme in revenge.’

‘Being callous about it, that might be a good thing. The one who hit the chapter house is cold, precise, and evil. The other one, I suspect, is a second-stringer. If he starts moving faster, he’ll screw up and that’s one off the streets. The only problem is that someone might have to die first.’

‘That’s a helluva problem. How did the briefing go with NAPA?’

‘About what you’d expect. Rutherford actually seemed glad I’d taken the chapter house. I’d imagine dealing with three dead Sisters while the rest glowered at her for not catching the guy yet would have been bad.’

‘Yeah. I’d imagine it would.’

‘Her captain was there, as well as Robbard from IA, both looking daggers at me.’

‘Water off a duck’s back?’

‘Don’t give a shit about either of them unless they get in the way. Seems like they’re staying out of it aside from watching.’

‘Let’s hope it stays that way.’

New York Metro.

Dillan was a little surprised when she was allowed through the police cordon to the crime scene, but Rutherford was looking like she needed all the help she could get. The detective was wearing an expression of profound annoyance as she stood a couple of metres back from the corpse, but there was an underlying, panicked energy about her, a fidgeting nervousness which she was failing to mask.

‘Where’s Meridian?’ Rutherford snapped as soon as she saw Dillan approaching.

‘Heading for Boston.’

‘Boston?!’

‘She wants to interview some academics she thinks might have some useful information,’ Dillan replied, shrugging, ‘and we didn’t know there was another body coming. I wasn’t expecting to be allowed up here.’

They were in an alley in Jersey, with another mutilated corpse. Dillan’s local knowledge was a little light in this area, but a quick search on the way over had uncovered the fact that there was a plaza nearby which was frequented by slightly upper-end street girls. This one might have regretted her choice of venue if she had lived.

‘You’ll get my report by tomorrow morning. I figured you might as well see the scene first-hand.’

‘Well then, thanks. Do we know who she is?’

‘Claire Rawlins. She has one arrest for illegal prostitution. Went legit after that. She was twenty-two.’

Dillan nodded. ‘Senseless waste of… This is the second one. The cuts are more proficient than last time, but he’s still far sloppier than the one who got into the chapter house.’

Rutherford gave a grunt: possibly agreement, though it was hard to tell. ‘That had to smart. Him getting past your security and killing three.’

‘You saw the reports. He sealed himself in a crate for two days to get past our security. The guy is… He’s not human. Anyway, my job doesn’t start until they get at their victim. I need to stop him killing another, just like you.’

Rutherford’s gaze was fixed on the body in front of her. ‘Doesn’t look like I’m doing a great job then, does it?’

Boston Metro.

Doctor Brandon Overman was a political sort of scientist. You could tell from the smile. Fox decided she disliked him almost immediately, but first impressions were not always a good indication of true character so she fixed a slight smile on her own face and let Terri handle the talking.

‘Doctor Overman,’ Terri said as she stepped up to the man’s desk and held out a hand, ‘I’m Teresa Martins, a–’

‘Of course, Doctor Martins,’ Overman said, cutting her off in his enthusiasm. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve read some of your papers on distributed AI systems. Most innovative.’

Terri smiled. ‘Thank you. And this is Tara Meridian, the CIO of Palladium Security Solutions.’

Overman was significantly less enthusiastic about shaking Fox’s hand, which she actually found rather amusing. ‘Of course I’ve heard of you, Miss Meridian.’ He put a very slight emphasis on the ‘Miss,’ as though he wanted to make it clear that there were two doctors in the room and Fox was clearly the inferior. His eyes shifted back to Terri. ‘You wanted to talk about Criminal Minds. You realise it was closed down almost a year ago?’

‘Yes,’ Fox said. ‘Why?’

‘Budget cuts.’ The man’s tone was sour. He took his seat again and left Fox and Terri to assume they could sit too. ‘We had funding for two years, but we were “not making sufficient progress” after eighteen months and they shut us down.’

‘I remember some of the papers you produced,’ Terri said. ‘I thought they showed a lot of promise. Could you explain the idea behind the project? For Tara’s benefit.’

‘Of course.’ The tone was indulgent as Overman prepared to dumb down his explanation for the layperson. Fox forced her jaw to unclench. ‘Essentially, we were creating… emulations of serial killers from history as AIs. The idea was to examine their thought processes in detail and produce memetic countermeasures designed to stop them wanting to kill people.’

‘Ambitious,’ Fox said. ‘I’m not so good on artificial intelligence, but my criminology is pretty good. You’d need multiple countermemes to work on all of them.’

‘Obviously. And multiple AIs representing the different motivational types.’

‘So you had a visionary?’

‘Harvey,’ Overman said, nodding. He seemed to be warming a little as Fox displayed at least some knowledge of the subject. ‘He was based on David Berkowitz, the “Son of Sam” killer who claimed to receive his orders from a demon in the shape of a dog.’

Fox smiled. ‘Named Harvey. A thrill-killer… Hansen?’

‘Coral. Based on Carl “Coral” Watts. Lionel was based on Jeffrey Dahmer, his middle name. Teddy, the power and control killer, was based on Ted Bundy, of course. And there was Bent.’

‘Silas Bent. I met him recently.’

‘He was our media-influenced killer, emulating the Whitechapel murders.’

Fox waited a second for him to continue and, when he said nothing, she asked, ‘You didn’t do a mission-based killer? Jack would be the obvious one, but the Zebra killers might have been a more useful example.’

‘We had plans to, but the axe fell first.’

‘Oh,’ Fox said. ‘That’s a shame.’ The man was lying. She was sure of it, but not of why.

‘It is a shame,’ Terri said. ‘As far as I could tell, you were having some significant success, at least in the analysis of aberrant mental states.’

‘We were expecting results of our work on countermemes,’ Overman said, ‘particularly with the Coral archetype. We felt we could make significant inroads into the enjoyment such people feel when killing.’

‘But the plug was pulled,’ Fox said. ‘Sad.’

‘Yes,’ Overman said, his teeth slightly gritted. And it was there again: not quite a lie this time, but he was hiding something.

‘We have considered funding a restart of the project through Palladium,’ Terri said. ‘The work was so promising that–’

‘It would be impossible, I’m afraid. We would need to restart everything from scratch and… Well, several members of the team are no longer with us.’

‘I heard. A suicide and two heart attacks.’

‘A little unusual, don’t you think?’ Fox added. ‘Within five months of the closure of your project, half your staff are dead. Three quarters of your female staff, actually. And the fourth is missing.’

‘It’s… statistically unlikely, I agree.’

‘You don’t know where Arabella Hive is, do you?’

‘Doctor Hive did not tell anyone where she was going.’

Fox nodded. ‘And you’re quite sure that restarting the project is out of the question?’

‘I am.’

‘Thank you for your time, Doctor.’ Fox flashed the man a smile and got to her feet. ‘If you change your mind, or hear from Doctor Hive, I’d appreciate it if you contacted myself or Doctor Martins.’

~~~

‘I can see why you wanted me here,’ Terri said as they took the cab back to the MarTech tower in Boston. ‘Did you have to be so hostile to him?’

‘I don’t like status-conscious, pompous, arrogant pricks lying to me.’

Terri gave a sniff. ‘Well, I know he was lying about the reason the project was shut down, but–’

‘He was lying about creating a Jack AI.’ Fox turned in her seat. ‘I didn’t catch the one about the shutdown.’

‘I didn’t catch the one about the AI. Uh, but he was lying at the end when he said they pulled the plug before they could make one, so I guess…’

Fox grinned. ‘And that’s why it’s useful having you along.’

‘But why would he lie about that?’

‘Ah, the big question. “Why” is always the big question. That’s the one that usually cracks the case. But… If they did make a Jack clone and they’re hiding the reason for closedown…’

‘The two would be connected.’

‘Which means…’ Fox sagged. ‘But they were working as part of a university team. They’d be following those protocols you mentioned. I mean, the AIs would have to be built without the baseline limits, but they’d be using standalone boxes. No networking. No way one of the AIs could have escaped.’

‘Presumably.’

Fox raised an eyebrow. ‘Presumably?’

‘Next appointment is tomorrow, right? I’ll go over the papers again. I’m sure there was one on their operating methodology. It would have to be explained in one of them. You just don’t publish scientific papers without writing down how you got the results. Maybe there was a flaw in their design.’

‘That sounds like a very productive use of your time. I was just going to suggest we get naked and frolic in the hot tub.’

Terri’s mouth opened, her eyes widening, and then her mouth snapped shut and her eyes narrowed. ‘You are an incredibly mean woman, Fox Meridian. I may not speak to you again for weeks.’

Fox grinned. ‘I give it five minutes.’

New York Metro.

Talking to Gilly was something of a surreal experience given that her bruised throat made speaking a chore, so she was getting around it with audio teleconferencing, even with those in the room with her. So you got the words, and even the expressions and gestures, but her lips did not move.

‘You’re feeling better though, right?’ Marie asked. ‘You look better than you did.’ Which was true, even if the novice still looked tired and a little drawn.

There was a waggle of a hand. ‘So-so,’ Gilly’s voice said into Marie’s head. ‘I mean, yes, but my throat hurts like Hell and I’m weak as a baby.’ Gilly grinned. ‘And you’re being really flattering. I look like I’ve been through a war.’

Marie grinned back. ‘Maybe a small one. You– Oh, hang on, I’ve got Fox requesting a connection.’ Marie switched to an internal conversation as Fox’s image appeared in her vision field. ‘Hey, Fox. I’m just visiting Gilly. She’s… better than she was.’

‘That was why I called,’ Fox replied. ‘I checked with Belle before calling you. If she’s up to it, we’ll widen this to telepresence. I’d like to talk to her.’

‘Hold on, I’ll check.’ And aloud, ‘Gilly, you up to talking to Fox?’ Gilly nodded, not bothering to say anything. ‘Okay, I’ll link us all in. Uh… There!’

Fox and Terri appeared as virtual images, both standing beside the bed as far as Marie and Gilly were concerned. ‘Hello again, Gilly,’ Fox said. ‘I don’t think you’ve met Teresa Martins. She’s with me in Boston consulting on the case.’

‘Good afternoon, Miss Martins,’ Gilly said. ‘Sorry if this is a bit weird, but actually speaking still hurts.’

‘Quite all right, Gilly, and you can call me Teresa. Just think, before implants you’d have been writing everything down on notepads.’

‘And,’ Fox said, ‘just note that Terri doesn’t gripe when people don’t use her title.’

Gilly frowned. ‘Sorry?’

Terri was rolling her eyes. ‘Small argument over an academic. Technically, I’m Doctor Martins, but then it’s like, how do you distinguish between me and Poppa? Neither of us really pushes it unless we’re dealing with someone who cares.’

‘Technically,’ Fox said, ‘I still have the right to use Captain Meridian, but I actively discourage it. I left the UNTPP. Anyway, Gilly, I don’t want to press this too hard, but… What do you remember about the man who attacked you? You didn’t record him in implant memory did you?’

‘Sorry, no. I don’t run the record function routinely and I didn’t think to push it to my implant at the time…’

‘Well, no, you were busy falling unconscious from blood loss. Believe me, I don’t blame you for worrying more about your survival.’

Gilly flashed a weak grin. ‘Thanks, but I still feel like I should have. If I’d died, maybe someone could have taken an image–’

‘Don’t think like that,’ Marie said.

‘And you didn’t die,’ Fox added. ‘Sister Anne saw to that.’

‘Just tell us your impressions,’ Terri said. ‘You saw him better than anyone else. Anyone who can talk about it. But, if it’s too stressful, you just relax and don’t worry about it.’

‘It’s more stressful to think he might be out there planning another murder right now. He was tall, um, and kind of thin. Pale. He had pale skin, pale eyes, maybe blue or green. Not sure about his hair because he had a hat on.’ Gilly frowned. ‘There was something weird about his face. There was blood on it. He hadn’t bothered wiping that off which is… weird and, uh, I’m trying really hard not to think where it came from.’

‘It’s all right. You can stop if you want.’

‘No. I need to do this. I need to help.’ Marie moved closer, taking Gilly’s hand, and got a smile for the gesture. ‘I’m not sure what was wrong with his face, but it wasn’t just the blood. Maybe that’s throwing me off. But I’d swear he had little blades sticking out his fingers. Right out of the ends of his fingers, a bit like claws.’

‘Like this?’ Fox asked, lifting her hand and popping the blade out.

Gilly blinked at the demonstration. ‘Well, I guess, but four of them, like scalpel blades ‘coming out of each finger.’

‘Cybernetic hand then. Maybe ex-military. It’s not uncommon in serial killers. Maybe Army medic. But you can let me worry about that. You’ve done well, Gilly. I’d like to get you working with an AI Terri has been developing. Maybe it can tease a few more details out of you.’

‘Sure. Anything to help.’

‘It’s a fairly simple AI,’ Terri explained, ‘but it’s designed to help you through producing an image of someone, a photofit if you like, when there’s no recorded image. It’s still in development, but I’ll get one of my people to bring a copy over and help you use it. It’ll be a good test.’

‘Like I said, anything I can do to help get this guy.’

Boston Metro.

Fox slid back into reality, which was hot, wet, and bubbly. ‘You think this new software will get us anything?’ she asked.

Terri took a sip of wine before answering. ‘Yes. But it is still learning so we need to consider that when we look at the results. I’m not sure sitting in a hot tub with you after that remark of yours doesn’t qualify as further teasing.’

‘Aren’t we past that? You’ve got Helen to keep you busy. Speaking of whom…’

‘You’re not going to–’

‘Hi, Helen,’ Fox said, smiling at the virtual image which had appeared beside the tub.

‘Hi, Fox. Hi, Terri,’ Dillan replied, smiling back. From the complete lack of surprise, it was apparent that Fox had screened the virtual image Dillan was getting at the other end. ‘You getting anywhere your end?’

‘Things here are a little more interesting than I thought. We met the former project supervisor and he was lying about a few things. We’ve got another interview tomorrow, so we’ll see if that gets us anywhere.’

‘Odd. What’s he got to lie about?’

‘Good question. What about the body in Jersey?’

‘It was the second guy. He’s got better since the first kill, but he still isn’t near the proficiency of the one who got into the chapter house. Rutherford’s getting desperate. And they still haven’t assigned her anyone else to assist. We’ll get the reports tomorrow and I’ll work with Kit here to get it into the murder room.’

‘Right. I’ll look it over tomorrow. We should be back in the afternoon. Terri, you getting anything from those papers?’

‘Oh… Well, nothing positive. Or is that negative? Whatever, the methodology explanation follows protocol. Each of the AIs had its own server. Each had its own viron on its own server, in fact, and there was no network connection to those machines. Which is another point, actually. The setup in each case mimicked the original environment the killer was from. That means “Jack” would have had no clue about computers.’

‘You’re looking at one of them escaping?’ Dillan asked.

‘Overman, the supervisor, lied about creating a clone of Jack the Ripper,’ Fox explained, ‘but it sounds like the thing wouldn’t have survived outside its home viron even if it somehow managed to escape a physically locked-down server. So maybe… Maybe we’re looking for a human. Someone on the project who was influenced by the AI?’ She frowned. ‘That sounds weak too. Maybe we’ll get something tomorrow. Oh, we’re getting Sister Gilly to work with Terri’s sketch artist AI tomorrow. You might get a picture to go in the murder room at some point.’

‘It’d be nice to have some idea of who we’re looking for.’

‘Yeah, but don’t get your hopes up. She got a quick look at him, and then he was trying to rip her throat out. That kind of thing is liable to distort your memory of the event.’

‘Yeah, but something would be better than “a guy in a black coat and hat.” I mean, that probably only covers some forty-nine per cent of the population. Assuming they have a hat.’

‘Pff!’ Terri said, waving a hand. ‘I don’t know why you have so much trouble with these cases. You just need to search every house in New York for a hat and there’s your man!’ Fox splashed water at her and Terri let out a squeak followed by giggles.

Dillan’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you guys in a hot tub?’

12th October.

‘Fox, I have obtained the NAPA site reports for the three Criminal Minds personnel who died recently.’

Fox washed the last of the soap from her hair and cut the water. ‘Had time to scan it?’ she asked Kit. The air blowers cut in as the water died.

‘The most immediate point of concern is that Lissette Carpenter and Doctor Ruth Iverson appear to have died during virtual reality sessions.’

‘Any notes indicating predisposition to heart conditions?’

‘The autopsy reports indicate no such predisposition in either case.’

Fox turned in the dryer air streams, silent for a second. ‘To reiterate, you’re saying that two women recently released from the same project, with no biological tendency for sudden cardiac arrest, died of heart failure under similar circumstances.’

‘That would be correct. Justine Nimer jumped from a seventh-storey window rather than having a heart attack. She owned a pistol, bought for personal defence after the project was closed down. The file notes that she had fired several rounds into random walls before blowing out the window and jumping. She had not left her apartment for three days prior to that.’

‘No evidence of anyone else in the apartment?’

‘NAPA were unable to find any. Since the death was unusual, they ran forensics on the apartment, putting the death down to suicide when they could not uncover evidence of another participant.’

Fox cut the blowers and stepped out of the shower cubicle. Kit’s avatar was standing outside, waiting for her. ‘Anyone look at her internet usage in those three days?’

‘Unfortunately not.’

‘I think I really want to talk to Doctor Hive. Is there a missing persons file open on her?’

‘Doctor Hive has no living relatives. No one has declared her missing.’

‘Okay.’ Fox pulled a fresh bodysuit up her legs and considered her actions for a second, but there was really only one logical one to take. ‘Put in a missing persons report for Doctor Arabella Hive. Indicate that we believe her life may be in danger.’

‘Do you think NAPA will accept that?’ Kit asked.

‘I bet you can make all the coincidences sound pretty convincing,’ Fox replied, grinning. ‘I’m convinced.’

~~~

The house was located in central Boston, an area that remained relatively unchanged through the periods of rebuilding which had rushed through the metro areas over the past thirty years. Fox stepped out of the autocab she had taken into the city with Terri, and considered the environment. Redbrick buildings, all built to the same style, which Fox thought a little odd: each frontage had a raised doorway on the middle of three floors with a staircase leading up to it, and on either side was a sort of bay window construction, almost a pair of turrets rising up from the lowered ground floor to the pitched roof. The place looked kind of expensive.

‘For a university researcher, this one seems to have money,’ Fox commented.

‘Rich family,’ Terri supplied.

‘Indeed,’ Kit said, appearing on the sidewalk beside them. ‘The Mortenson family represents old Boston wealth, going back to last century anyway. Doctor Barry Mortenson has not increased the family fortunes, however, sticking to a more academic environment. His expertise lies in machine psychology.’

‘He’s fairly good too, if lacking in much ability to communicate that. His papers are… not exactly well-written.’

‘Let’s go see whether he’s better in person,’ Fox suggested.

First impressions struck again: Barry Mortenson did not look pleased to see them, or like a man who handled interpersonal communication well. He looked to be in his late thirties, no indications of aging aside from the eyes. Mortenson had sharp, intelligent, grey eyes, but they had aged about ten years more than the rest of him.

‘Yes?’ Mortenson snapped.

‘I’m Teresa Martins,’ Terri said, ‘and this is Tara Meridian. We called.’

‘I know who both of you are. What do you want?’

He was not backing off to let them in so Terri kept going. ‘We wanted to discuss the Criminal Minds project.’

‘I don’t discuss that.’ Mortenson started to close the door, frowning when it stopped abruptly.

‘One thing, Doctor Mortenson,’ Fox said, smiling her brightest smile while she wedged the door with a boot. ‘Did you have anything to do with the production of the AI which followed the Whitechapel murderer?’

Fox watched the muscles in Mortenson’s jaw clench, the shifting of his eyes away from hers, the slight wrinkling of his nose. ‘We never built a Ripper AI.’

‘Oh. I just thought that, since you were responsible for the Bent AI, you might–’

‘We never built a Ripper AI.’

Fox moved her foot. ‘Thank you, Doctor. You’ve told me everything I needed to know.’ The door almost slammed on her nose. ‘Such a nice man.’

‘You did put your foot in his door,’ Terri pointed out.

‘Yes, but he was lying as well. Plus, he called it “Ripper,” which sounds like one of their code names. I said “Whitechapel murderer.”’

‘Okay…’ Terri turned, starting back down the steps. ‘But did you notice his eyes when he mentioned it?’

‘I noticed them avoiding mine.’

‘He was scared, Fox. That man was terrified.’

‘Okay, what of?’

‘Ah,’ Terri said, ‘I’m just the psychologist. I give you the data; you need figure out the whys.’

Airborne, Southbound over the Atlantic.

Fox set the autopilot and pushed her chair back. ‘Okay, let’s see it.’ An image appeared in the air and both she and Terri looked at it: the face of Jack the Ripper.

‘It’s possible that the software needs more work,’ Terri said.

They were looking at a man with oddly angular features wearing what could only be described as a beatifically malign grin. There was a long straight nose, sharp cheekbones, and a quite pointed chin. The eyes were blue, the skin pale, and he had sharp black eyebrows. But the smile was something else. It had the same sort of paternal, slightly bland quality you saw on elderly doctors or maybe priests, but it was somehow too wide and it combined with the bright, blue eyes to present a sort of malicious glee. It was worse if you considered that the owner of that face had just disembowelled three women and was contemplating the next.

‘Well… Gilly is bound to have cast him in something of a demonic light in her memory,’ Fox said.

‘Yes, but the system should take that into account.’ Terri’s eyes shifted to another set of displays: diagnostic reports from the session with Gilly. ‘Huh, did too. It still thinks this is accurate. I’ll go over the diagnostics in detail and see where it went wrong. I mean that doesn’t look…’

‘Human? Kit, start running facial recognition against this with every source we have. It’s what we’ve got, so let’s use it.’

Terri frowned. ‘But if it’s… corrupted, for want of a better word, how much use is it going to be?’

‘Possibly none, but if it turns out to be accurate and we ignored it…’

‘We always do the dotting and crossing,’ Kit said, appearing between the two flight chairs, ‘even when it seems entirely useless. It’s one of the things Fox taught me about police work. Besides, I already have a hit.’

‘You… do?’

‘Unfortunately it is not a useful one.’ The avatar flicked out a new image to sit beside the composite: that of a smiling, middle-aged man with a far more pleasant smile, but there were obvious similarities between the two images. ‘This is–’

‘Alex Sanderson,’ Terri said, and then she blushed a little. ‘Momma used to love Kildare: Space Surgeon. I remember sitting on her lap and watching with her, but… Kit, he’s dead. The show shut down in… twenty fifty-five when he died.’

‘And that would be why it’s not useful,’ Fox said. ‘Did he have children?’

‘A daughter,’ Kit supplied. ‘She is a robotics engineer living in Chicago. The match came from her LifeWeb timeline which has a number of images of her father on it.’

‘LifeWeb does have some very efficient facial matching algorithms,’ Terri said.

‘Indeed. The other reason this is less than useful is that the match only has a seventy-six per cent confidence, but I considered it worth bringing up given that our template is a reconstruction. And we don’t like strange coincidences.’

Fox grinned. ‘My protégé. Are you showing off for Terri?’

Kit gave them a sweet little smile. ‘Yes. My self-awareness algorithms suggest an eighty-two per cent probability that I am, but it’s still an odd coincidence.’

‘Sure is. Why would our killer resemble a dead actor who played a doctor last decade?’

‘You’re on the whys again, Fox,’ Terri said. ‘You and your protégé are going to have to sort that one out.’

New York Metro.

‘I don’t get to sit in a hot tub with Fox, that’s all I’m saying.’

‘I’ve known her longer.’ Terri replied. ‘Anyway, you’ve slept with her twice.’

‘Yeah,’ Dillan said, ‘slept being the operative part. She gets me drunk and then doesn’t have her wicked way with me.’

‘I wasn’t aware you wanted me to,’ Fox said, ‘and I don’t have a wicked way. I have a sublimely pleasurable way, and could we get back to the subject in hand? Where are we with finding Arabella Hive?’

‘NAPA in Boston have responded. No evidence of Hive in the metro after March this year. No online activity at all. All attempts to contact her go straight to messaging, emails are never opened, her bank account hasn’t been touched, and her implant is apparently not communicating with any network.’

‘She could be dead too,’ Terri suggested.

Fox nodded. ‘Yes, but we assume she isn’t until we find her body. Mortenson was scared, Hive was scared enough to run. That suggests she knows something and she might be more willing to talk than Mortenson and Overman.’

‘If you can find her.’

‘If we can find her, yeah.’

‘Well,’ Dillan said, sounding a little reluctant, ‘I had one thought.’

‘I’m quite sure you’ve had thousands,’ Terri said.

‘Uh-huh, but a lot of them have been about hot tubs recently. However, I also noticed that Doctor Hive is something of a “success against the odds” story. She was born in the New York Sprawl. Her records start properly around the age of five when she started going to a mission in the north Jersey Housing Combine area for classes. She was picked up by an outreach programme for talented sprawlers when she was fourteen, but she spent her formative years in the Sprawl north of the JHC. Now, if I wanted to get really lost…’

Fox could understand her friend’s reluctance to mention it. ‘Trawling through the Sprawl to find a woman who doesn’t want to be found… We’ll start in the morning.’

‘MarTech runs some of those outreach programmes,’ Terri said. ‘I’ll go over our records and see whether we have anything on her.’

‘Anything to narrow the search. This is going to be so much fun…’

13th October.

The Angelique Street Mission was a four-storey building someone had put up in the thirties or forties in the hopes of pulling rent from workers flocking into the metro from other regions. That had failed and the building had been bought up by a Christian group seeking to help the unemployed and dispossessed living to the north. And that had pretty much failed until a few groups like MarTech and the Sisters of Corruption had stepped in to provide equipment and money.

Fox spotted a couple of novice uniforms from the Sisters as she walked through the halls, which was a little surprising. ‘You work with the Church of Saint Nicholas, Father?’

‘Not an entirely popular decision,’ Father Laramie said, ‘but one which works exceptionally well. And the diocese can’t complain because the Sisters actively discourage people here from… joining the profession. Well, can’t complain, but do.’

‘Not really their style.’

‘No, but try telling the bishop that. The official line is that we teach abstinence outside marriage, but the people we minister to rarely have much else to entertain them. So we have Sister Sarah here twice a week running sex education classes. Contraception and respect, primarily. We also have a few others who spend half a day a week here doing general duties, helping out. We have people from MarTech here to help with the education programmes as well.’

‘Teresa mentioned that. Education is one of Jackson’s big causes.’

Laramie smiled. He was not old, moderately good-looking, if a little tired around the eyes. He had a kind of weary cheeriness too, like a man trying to put a very brave face on a tiring job which gave him little back. ‘On first-name basis with the celebrity benefactors, Miss Meridian?’

‘Father, you just made my day,’ Fox told him, grinning brightly.

‘I did?’

‘Yeah, you are the first person I’ve come across in ages who doesn’t know what my relationship is with Jackson and Teresa Martins. And it’s entirely unimportant. What’s important is that I find a woman who graduated from one of your education programmes. Doctor Arabella Hive. It was twelve years ago, but–’

‘Before my time. In fact, there are no staff going back that far. We tend to have something of a high turnover rate. I’ve been here for six years and I expect them to have to ordain me and ship me to a small parish church soon. Somewhere rural where my nerves can recover. I don’t see why you think someone who got out of this place would come back.’

‘Someone scared enough might, and I think Doctor Hive is in fear of her life. Do you mind if I ask around?’

‘No, of course not. But I think you may be wasting your time. Sprawlers don’t tend to like authority figures, so they probably won’t talk to you. And when I get out of here, I doubt I’d consider coming back, even if someone held a gun to my head.’

~~~

‘Anything?’ Fox asked.

Dillan’s image shifted in a slight shrug. ‘Maybe something. I found an old guy who remembers the family. He says they used to squat in a building up near Saint Rocco’s.’

‘Genuine?’

‘Aren’t we monosyllabic? I think so. Paid him two candy bars, though how he’s going to eat them with no teeth I’m not sure.’

‘He’ll trade them. Some of the street girls will give you a BJ for a candy bar. Keeps their kids happy.’

Dillan’s eyebrows rose. ‘I did not wish to know that.’

Fox grinned in reply. ‘That area’s fairly safe. You okay checking it out on your own?’

‘Think so. I’ve got this one-gun-army that Jackson built for you and I know how to use it.’

‘Baton rounds?’

‘Are loaded, but I’ve got some lethal stuff if things turn sticky.’

‘Okay. Let me know if you get anything.’ Fox waited for the connection to break and then smiled at the woman beside her. ‘Sorry, my colleague is busy hunting for information out in the Sprawl.’

‘On her own?’ Sister Sarah asked.

‘She’s an ex-cop, and armed. She’ll be fine where she’s going. Tomorrow we’ll be going deeper and then we’ll be working as a pair.’

‘You wouldn’t catch me up there without armed bodyguards.’

‘In that outfit, I don’t blame you.’

Sister Sarah smirked and glanced down at herself. ‘Yes, you have a point. Sister Naomi mentioned you, of course, and we all saw you when… when you were investigating the deaths. This is related?’

‘Honestly? I’m not sure. It started out as a fact-gathering exercise. Better profiling on the killer. When I started looking… Let’s just say there are some curious coincidences that I don’t like.’

‘Cryptic, but okay. Obviously, I’d be willing to help any way I can, but this girl would have passed through here before my time. I could ask who was doing it before me, see if they remember an Arabella Hive. That’s assuming she took any of our classes. They aren’t mandatory. Father Laramie encourages the teens to do them, but…’

‘Pretty much any form of education is optional in the Sprawl, I know.’

‘And we get the objectors. Usually religious reasons, but not always. There are some who object to a prostitute teaching kids about sex.’

‘I’d have thought you were the most qualified people on the planet.’

‘Ah, but we’re morally corrupt. Some object to the idea of sex ed as a whole, either because they think it encourages them to try it out or on general religious grounds.’

‘Abstinence, and that’s the end of it.’

‘Yes, basically. Which is probably why the Sprawls are the only regions in America with increasing populations.’

‘And the fewest resources to cope with them… Yeah.’

~~~

There was a baby screaming its tiny lungs out somewhere in the building. The cries echoed down the stairwell, unanswered by any form of guardian. Someone had arranged for the entrance of the old apartment block to be a slalom around piles of crates lashed together to form crude barriers, but the door was off its hinges and there was no one around to see Dillan walking in.

The information Dillan had got from her toothless informant was that the Hives had lived on the top floor. That was likely prime real estate, assuming the roof was intact: you had to climb the stairs, but it was less likely to be disturbed and you got warning of raids. Arabella’s father had to have been fairly tough to hold rooms up there for any length of time. None of the records indicated how he had died, however. It was not impossible that he had been killed for the space. Figuring that the top was as good a place to start as any, Dillan set off up the stairs.

Like a lot of Sprawl housing, this block was something of a mix. There were the residents who had managed to take and hold an apartment, but really had no desire for anything beyond a roof over their heads. They took little care of their residence beyond fortifying it; they frequently took less care of themselves. But there were also the people who wanted a home and had pride in what they had achieved, which was something close to the pinnacle of Sprawl life. Their children probably went to the mission; they hoped that, against the odds, they might rise above their birth. It was against the odds: Arabella Hive was one of the very few who had managed the transition.

Dillan scanned the fourth-floor corridor and nodded, vaguely impressed. The roof, it seemed, was still intact and the people who lived up here seemed determined that their environment should remain clean, or at least tidy. There were still patches of carpet glued to the concrete raft floor, even if most of it had worn away long ago. Someone swept the corridor up here and there were no trash bags lying around.

And at the end of the nice, clean corridor, a door opened and Dillan found herself looking at a heavily built woman who leaned against the doorframe in such a way that her arm was out of sight. Baseball bat, maybe a gun, set beside the door. Dark brown eyes peered out, assessing, but there was no shift in posture as Dillan closed the distance.

‘Face it,’ Dillan said, ‘I’m too clean to be after your space.’

The woman’s lips twitched. ‘Yeah, give you that one. What’s a cop want here?’

‘Ex-cop. The smell probably hasn’t worn off yet. I’m looking for someone. She may be in trouble, as in someone may be trying to kill her.’ Dillan pulled a small display unit from her pocket, clicking up the picture of Hive they were using. ‘Arabella Hive. I heard she used to live in this building.’

The woman did not bother looking. ‘Did. Lived two doors down. Got out and hasn’t been back, and I don’t blame her.’

Dillan examined her witness. The skin tone suggested Mexican ancestry, the dark eyes held intelligence, or at least shrewdness, the body was muscled from exercise, the face pretty and fairly young. She was dressed in a cropped T-shirt and track pants which looked like they had been bought somewhere and were not too old. In fact, the top looked brand new… ‘You were friends, back then. Maybe looked out for her and she helped you with classes. You catch stray jobs because she helped you. Loyalty’s great, but she may have someone after her who… She could use some protection and I can get her that.’

The woman’s lips tightened. ‘Bella was here two nights. That was weeks ago. She said she couldn’t stay. Wouldn’t say what was up, but it seemed like someone was chasing her. And you got your own problem.’ Her eyes flicked up, over Dillan’s shoulder, and down again.

‘Okay. Thanks. She comes around again, tell her to contact the Sisters of Corruption. They can reach me.’

The woman nodded and then backed away, closing the door. Dillan turned and gave the boy moving up behind her a weary look. She figured he was maybe sixteen and he probably lived on one of the lower floors. He had seen her coming up and figured he might be able to score something off the rich woman slumming it out in the Sprawl. The kitchen knife he was holding certainly suggested that.

‘Nice jacket,’ the kid said, grinning broadly.

‘It is,’ Dillan said. ‘And it’s got a lining that’ll stop a bullet, never mind that knife.’ She reached behind her back and slipped her pistol free of its holster. ‘Your T-shirt, on the other hand, will not stop me from perforating your lungs.’ Still grinning, the boy backed away from her, his hands raised. ‘You’ve got fifteen seconds to be out of sight when I come down. If I see you on the stairs, I’ll blow your kneecaps off.’

‘Sure, lady. Sure.’

‘Ten,’ Dillan said, raising her pistol.

‘You said–’

‘Six.’ He broke and ran. ‘Three,’ Dillan called out as he reached the top of the stairs. Sighing, she started after him at a slow walk. The macho ones were easy, usually putting it on to mask their lack of real confidence. But if she had still been in NAPA, she would have bet she could look for him on an arrest record in the next year: he was too dumb to stay out of Rikers.

~~~

‘So we know she was in the area a few weeks ago,’ Fox said.

‘And we know she was scared of something,’ Dillan said, nodding.

‘You believe her friend? Hive wasn’t still there?’

‘I believe her, but a few weeks in the thick of the Sprawl when you haven’t been there for a while… Someone could’ve put a knife between her ribs by now.’

Fox turned her head to look out of the autocab’s window as they crossed the Hudson on the roadway which had been put in under the maglev track. Somewhere below them was the disused Holland Tunnel, given up to the vagaries of rising sea levels and storm surges.

‘I’ll get some cambots tasked to overfly the area,’ Fox said. ‘Chances are slim, but maybe we’ll get lucky.’

‘And we keep looking?’

‘And we keep looking. Tomorrow we’ll start working north, but we do that together. We’ll see more than just a kid with a kitchen knife once we get north of Union City.’

‘Fox, if she’s gone that far up, we’ll never find her. It’s too big an area.’

‘Terri said she had some ideas on narrowing the search parameters. We’ll see what she’s got in the morning.’

14th October.

‘Okay, so I had an idea,’ Terri said, ‘but it was one of those ideas where the person having it wasn’t the best person to implement it, which is why I gave Camille a call.’

The attractive wife of Garth Eaves smiled at Fox and Dillan over telepresence. ‘This was an interesting challenge,’ she said. ‘Far more interesting than constructing publicity memes.’

‘Okay,’ Fox said, ‘I’ll bite. How does memetics come into finding a woman lost in the Sprawl?’

Both Terri and Camille smiled. They were having a distinctly distributed meeting, but the two were well in-sync. Camille was in Chicago, at home, Terri and Dillan were in the MarTech tower, and Fox was in her home office.

‘It’s a question of behaviour prediction,’ Terri explained. ‘Given the data we have on Doctor Hive, we can make predictions on the areas she’s likely to hide in. I’m happy to say that her visit to her old home and the friend who still lives there fits into my psychological profile quite nicely.’

‘As does her reluctance to put them in danger by staying longer,’ Camille added. A map of the New York Sprawl region appeared behind her, overlaid with a colour pattern in shades of pink and red. ‘Given that analysis and the data we have on the sociometric structures of the sprawler gangs in the region… Um, they are quite extensive. There have been a number of studies on the gang cultures and affiliations around New York. More than any other metro. Anyway, the probabilities indicate you have four primary search areas.’

Fox looked over the regions marked in darker red on the map. ‘Why those areas?’ They were all fairly far north.

‘It comes down to gang ethics. The people who rule those areas stay bought once you’ve made a deal with them. That and the fact that they will entertain some deal involving money and keeping an outsider safe. Doctor Hive has a slight advantage in coming out of the Sprawl herself, but most of these people aren’t going to think much of her history there.’

‘Oh goody,’ Dillan said. ‘Our best shot at finding her is walking into gang territory knowing they’ll be loyal because she’s bought them.’

‘I’ll retask the cambots to focus on these areas,’ Fox said. ‘Helen, we’ll go in this afternoon once we’ve got some intel on the movements in the first target, which is going to be… the area around that park in North Bergen.’

~~~

‘She’s not here,’ Fox said as she walked with Dillan into what had once been the North Hudson Country Park and was now… less park-like.

‘You sound pretty sure,’ Dillan said. ‘We haven’t even really started.’

‘Wrong culture. We should check out that building on the north side, but I think she’ll want a roof over her head, and this lot prefer their yurts.’

Dillan looked out across the field with its array of tent-like constructions, every single one of them built of a different haphazard array of scavenged materials. There was a sort of theme about them, a basic design philosophy. One or two poles supported the structures, and all the other materials were somehow slung from there. ‘Is that what you call them?’ Dillan asked.

‘Well… “yurt” is kind of evocative. What you’re looking at here is a dustbowl survivalist who got tired of it and came here, and ended up leading a sprawler gang. These are nomads who don’t move out of their park.’

‘Doesn’t that kind of invalidate the nomad thing?’

‘Probably not an idea to mention to them.’

‘Okay… If they’re basically dustbowl thugs with fixed abodes, this is going to be tough.’

‘No, actually it makes things a little easier, assuming the guy at the top set them up with the usual culture.’

They had made it maybe three hundred metres in along the remains of a track of some sort before they were intercepted by five people in scruffy jeans, old band T-shirts, combat boots, and an assortment of jackets which had mostly seen better days. In the lead was a small mountain carrying a six-foot length of metal pipe like a quarterstaff which he twirled absently, and quite easily, bringing it to rest across his shoulders as he came to a stop, feet set shoulder-width apart. He opened his mouth, but Fox got in first.

‘We’re here to talk to your leader,’ Fox said, her voice firm and fairly loud.

‘We don’t talk to cops,’ the mountain replied.

Fox ignored him and fixed her gaze on a slight woman standing behind his right shoulder. ‘We’re travelling north and we’d like to rest a while.’

‘I said…’ the man started, swinging his staff down from his shoulders.

‘That’s enough, Don,’ the woman behind him said. ‘We show hospitality to other travellers, even if they smell of pig.’

‘I showered this morning and everything,’ Dillan complained.

‘It can take years to wear off,’ Fox said. ‘Sometimes it never does.’

~~~

The leader of the gang reminded Fox a little of Baxter Cable, the leader of a slightly more law-abiding group she had met in the Southern Protectorate. Possibly it was the beard, though this one was not quite as prodigious as Cable’s. There was the same bulky body form, the same intelligence behind the eyes.

‘Name’s Bull,’ he said by way of greeting. ‘Drink?’ He turned and started toward a cabinet set against a wall. The ‘yurt’ Bull lived in had been built against the wall of a sports centre that occupied one corner of the park, which gave it more space than the others, but then Bull was the one likely to be entertaining guests, and he was the boss.

Fox pulled a half-bottle from her bag. ‘Try this. I kind of like my stomach lining where it is.’ Bull turned back and took the bottle, and his slight grin suggested that Fox had been right about the contents of the liquor cabinet. ‘I’m Tara Meridian, this is Helen Dillan.’

‘And you’re “travelling north,” right?’

‘Working our way up. We’re looking for someone who’s probably in way more trouble than she thinks she is.’

Bull handed over two glasses. ‘I’m not in the habit of handing out information to anyone who walks in with a bottle of whiskey.’ He moved to an old mattress that had been set down on the floor as a seat and settled onto it.

‘Watch the news much, Bull?’ Fox asked. There was a second mattress, or maybe a large cushion from a couch: Fox made use of it, Dillan settling beside her.

‘Out here? Barely any internet out here, girl.’

‘There’s a guy murdering prostitutes. Slits their throats and then carves them open, pulls out their internal organs, takes one or two for souvenirs. We think he’s probably hunting our witness and she probably doesn’t know it. She’s running, but not from him.’

‘I heard about him. Been killing down in the Combine. Two dead.’

‘That’s two of nine. That we know about, and he won’t stop unless someone stops him. I figure you’ve got a couple of girls who make extra on the side…’

Dillan produced her display card and laid it on the threadbare carpet between them. ‘She might help us track this guy down,’ Dillan said. ‘She’s probably going to die if we don’t find her.’

Bull’s eyes flicked to the card and up again. ‘Some other rumours been going around. Heard from Brooklyn how half a dozen girls’ve gone missing last little while. Now the two south of here.’

Fox’s eyes narrowed. ‘Brooklyn? We know of one who died over there.’

‘People don’t take much notice of the Sprawl. Except when they want something.’

‘Of this I am aware.’ Fox indicated the card. ‘You’ve seen her.’

‘Stayed a night. Paid for it, but she said she needed solid walls and even less internet coverage. Seemed like she was scared of anyone getting her image up on the net. Seemed like she was scared of the net. Girl had a demon on her back and I wasn’t too sorry when she moved on.’

Fox tossed back her drink. ‘Thanks, Bull, you’ve been a help. The bottle’s a gift for your hospitality.’

‘Good luck finding her. Better luck finding this bastard who’s cutting up girls.’

‘Thanks for that too. I think we’re going to need it.’

~~~

‘We cross-reference internet coverage with Camille’s probability map, right?’ Dillan said as they walked away from the camp.

‘Kit’s compiling the data and working it out now,’ Fox said. ‘Then we’ll need to run some drone flights over the most likely areas to confirm the signal strengths and run visual scans. We’re going to have to wait until tomorrow to go further up.’

‘Well… We’ll be fresh for it.’

‘It’s another damn day without finding him, Helen. Another day he could be finding Hive and making sure she can’t tell us anything.’

‘We could get lucky tomorrow, you know?’

Fox grimaced. ‘I don’t really believe in luck.’

‘Huh. From someone who seems to have had more than her fair share, that seems just a little crazy.’

‘No one’s ever accused me of being sane.’

16th October.

After a day of fruitless searching, the last thing Fox wanted to be doing at five in the morning was looking at another body. Rutherford did not look best pleased either.

‘Looks like the copycat,’ the NAPA detective stated flatly, ‘but he’s getting better.’

Fox was already hooked into the sensors from the forensics system: Rutherford really did not care what her superiors thought at this point. ‘Hesitancy is reduced. He’s gaining confidence. Little prick. I’m actually a little more worried about what his colleague is up to. Nothing for over a week…’

‘Maybe he’s pissed off at the competition. Maybe he’s hunting the copycat. Not, I add, that my captain has officially acknowledged this is a copycat.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘Wish I was. It might change with this one. This makes him a serial like his elder brother and it’s enough to give a definite pattern.’

Fox gave a grunt of acknowledgement. ‘Got an ID for her?’

‘Yvonne Surly, registered prostitute, aged twenty-six. She lives about three blocks north of here… She’s got a three-year-old kid. No father in the picture.’

‘Shit.’

‘Child services are arranging a pick-up. Kid’s three, there’s a chance of adoption.’

‘And we can’t help them all and I didn’t think you cared that much, Rutherford.’

‘Everyone’s got something that gets to them. Ten dead and a kid orphaned is mine.’

Pointing out that one should be enough seemed a little petty. ‘Let me have the report when it’s ready. Kit’ll glue it in to what we have and see whether anything pops out. You never know, we may get lucky.’

Rutherford let out a bark of a laugh. ‘I don’t believe in luck.’

‘No… Neither do I.’

Niflhel.

Kit watched the viron resolve itself around her, settled her tunic in place, making sure to keep her tail low, and then started up the hill to Vali’s homestead. It was ten a.m. and Fox had gone out to search for Doctor Hive, even though Kit would have preferred it if she had got more sleep. Vali’s request that they join him had come just as contact was lost due to the weak internet connectivity in the search area.

Vali was pouring mead into cups when Kit walked into the kitchen. ‘I was expecting Zorra to join us at this time of day,’ he said over his shoulder.

‘She is in the Sprawl,’ Kit replied. ‘Connectivity is spotty there, at best.’

‘The same case? This… Whitechapel business?’

‘Yes.’

‘Hmm. There’s a scroll on the table. See if you recognise the woman on it.’

Frowning a little, because Vali was being a little more obtuse than usual, Kit picked up the scroll and unrolled it. The image was not exactly a hand-drawn picture: Kit thought it had been taken from video, enhanced, and cropped. The subject, however, was now quite familiar. ‘Yvonne Surly. Her body was found this morning in an alley in the Jersey Housing Combine.’

Vali turned and put a pair of clay pots down on the table. ‘I thought that might be the case.’ Reaching up to a shelf, he took down another scroll and handed it over. ‘The video shows her going into an alley with a man. Not unreasonable, given her profession. However, the detail is sufficient to run facial recognition and I know her companion.’

Kit was watching the video already. ‘The timestamp on this clip is commensurate with the estimated time of death. She died no more than five minutes after she walked into the alley with this man. Who is he?’

‘That is Tony Driscoll, a freelance programmer. He goes by “RipperFan” here.’

‘Oh. So it was him, the copycat.’ Kit looked up at her companion. ‘I’m sorry, Vali.’

Vali sank half the contents of his cup. ‘I went over his chat logs after getting this. There’s nothing there to indicate that he had shifted from the usual chatter into an active role. Most of these people, these…’ He gave a little shudder. ‘When they act on the filth they pour out, they can’t wait to drop hints that they’ve done it. Some of them just come out and say it. “Look at me! I killed someone! Aren’t I great!” This one said nothing. I couldn’t have known he was the second killer.’

‘No one expects you to.’

‘I do.’ He started to raise his cup again, but he stopped as Kit reached out and put her hand over his.

‘Driscoll is a follower of Bent. He knows to keep his activities circumspect. He is following in his messiah’s footsteps and expects that he will only be caught if he is betrayed, so he is minimising the opportunities for such betrayal. There is only so much you can expect of yourself, Vali. You’re only human.’

Vali looked up at her. ‘I… suppose you’re right. If there is nothing there to find, then I can’t be expected to find it, can I?’

‘No. I’ll take this information and contact Fox as soon as she is in an area with coverage. I suspect that she will hand the information off to Detective Rutherford to deal with, but I should check. Mister Driscoll will be arrested and punished for his crimes.’ Releasing Vali’s hand, Kit lifted her own cup and sipped from it. ‘Oh, have you anything planned for the third of November?’

Vali’s brow wrinkled, but a slight smile touched his lips. ‘No, nothing I’m aware of. Why?’

‘It is the first anniversary of my initialisation. Fox refers to it as my birthday. I should like to join you and share some mead.’

The smile broke out properly. ‘I would be honoured to help celebrate your birthday, Kit. I’ll make sure I am free.’

‘Good. It should be an interesting day. Now I just hope Fox contacts me soon.’

New York Metro.

Decades ago, someone had built an irregularly shaped, redbrick structure with a load of shopfronts grafted into it and called it a mall. The windows were gone now, largely replaced with random sections of wood fixed in place with nails, bolts, and anything else the local people could find. What seemed to be lacking were the people.

‘It’s kind of quiet,’ Dillan commented as they approached what looked like the entrance.

‘I am required by law to reply “too quiet” to that,’ Fox replied, ‘but for once I think I’ll go with the cliché.’ She slipped her pistol free from its holster behind her back and activated the infrared feature on the sighting camera. ‘Nothing warm visible.’

‘This isn’t right. There’s supposed to be a fairly strong gang in this building.’

‘Yes. But the surveillance didn’t show much activity around here. Thinking about it, there was no one going in or out, just passing by.’

‘In a hurry, now I think about it. I just figured they were afraid of the gang.’

Fox nodded. ‘We take this slowly and carefully. Use your infrared. Watch the corners.’

‘You want right or left?’

Starting forward, Fox said, ‘I’ll take the right,’ then she stepped through a gap between the wooden boards and stepped quickly to the right, out of the light, as her pistol scanned around the room. Dillan followed her in, keeping low, and went to the left.

Their caution seemed to be unnecessary. The room, which looked like it had once been a shop, seemed empty. The remains of some sort of counter provided cover at the back, but there were no heat sources and the door behind it stood open. Dillan moved quickly forward and angled her pistol up and over the scrappy barrier as Fox moved forward on the other side, covering the doorway.

‘Fox,’ Dillan said, ‘you’d better take a look behind the counter.’

Fox slid in beside the door, holding her pistol low but ready, and looked. There was a lot of blood, old enough that the smell had become part of the background noise. The body was slumped, half-leaning against the counter. His throat had a wide gash in it, sliced from one side to the other and gaping open from the way he was lying. There was a gun beside the corpse, now glued to the tiles by congealed blood.

‘He’s warmer than the room,’ Fox said, ‘but we probably missed the party.’

Kit appeared beside her, looking down at the body. ‘Fox, the thermal image suggests a temperature around twenty-five Celsius. He has been dead for between twelve and sixteen hours. I can’t do better with this technology.’

‘We’ll get something more accurate in once we’ve cleared the place.’

‘This could just be another gang hitting the place,’ Dillan said.

‘Could be. Let’s keep going.’

Walls had been knocked through in various places to create a labyrinth of interconnected rooms, complete with choke points and ambush positions, and the gang seemed to have failed to use any of that. They discovered two more bodies, both with cut throats, before they found one who had, apparently, fought back.

‘Shot casings,’ Dillan said, indicating the plastic shells lying in the blood. ‘He got two off at least.’

‘Double-barrel, old-style weapon,’ Fox said. ‘He’s cut the barrel down for use in a confined space, but it doesn’t seem like it did him much good. The thing’s open. He was probably hit when he stopped to reload. Killer carved into his arm to remove the threat and then cut his throat out.’

‘This guy’s fast, vicious.’

‘Cool under fire too. He’s not bothering to pick up weapons. If I came in here with a knife, I’d have picked up the automatic the guy at the front was carrying.’

‘He likes his knives.’

They found Arabella Hive in a storeroom. There were two men outside it, both dead, though their positions suggested they might have put up some sort of fight. One of them had been torn open and died with his intestines spilling out onto the floor. The smell of that masked the odour from Hive’s body. She had had another protector inside the room, but he had been dispatched and tossed into a corner like garbage, clearing the floor for the victim de jour. Hive lay in the middle of the floor, naked, arms outstretched in a crucifixion posture. The incisions in her throat were fairly small, but carefully placed. Her death had been quite slow and, from the look on her face, she had been alive when he had started on her belly.

‘Oh… fuck,’ Dillan said, holding a hand over her mouth and nose. ‘He really went to town on her.’

‘Yeah… Okay, look, normally I’d assign you to watch the scene while I call this in, but there’s no other door and I’m just not that mean. We go outside, set up the long-range link, and you can guard the way in.’

‘Thanks, boss. I’ll remember this at Christmas.’

~~~

Fox trudged into her bathroom, shedding clothes as she went. She was seriously considering recycling everything. According to Jackson, the new system could break the whole lot down into component feeds for new materials and it might be easier to start from scratch than to try to get the blood out.

The water was just beginning to wash the weariness out of her bones when Kit spoke. ‘I have Sister Naomi waiting to speak to you. Should I inform her you will call her back?’

Fox sighed. ‘No, put her through.’

‘Tough day?’ Naomi asked almost immediately.

‘Yeah, just a little.’

‘Fruitful, however. I just saw the reports of an arrest in the Ripper case.’

‘Rutherford got the guy? I haven’t checked. That’s the copycat, not the man who got into your house. Still, it’s one less preying on your flock. Is that the right word? Flock?’

‘As good as any.’ Naomi’s tone had shifted: she had been hoping that that was the end of it, of course, but Fox was not going to lie to her.

‘I let Rutherford sort that out while I ran forensics on the latest victims. He took out a sprawler gang to get to a woman he’s been stalking. Or I think he’s been stalking her. She’s not a prostitute. Wasn’t. She was an AI researcher, but he did the whole number on her and it may be a lead which could get us to our guy. Somehow he’s linked to a project run out of Boston. I just need to find out how.’

‘Good luck then. I’ll leave you to it.’

‘Thanks. I’m going to crash for a while and hope there are no more surprises until I can nail the bastard.’

17th October.

Fox looked up as Belle appeared beside her sofa. The house AI rarely made an appearance without a summons, so she had something urgent to relate.

‘Belle?’ Fox asked.

‘Fox, if I may, there is something I suspect you would wish to see happening on a number of the news channels.’

Kit appeared beside her fellow avatar with a worried look on her face. ‘Belle’s right, you need to see this.’ And Fox turned to look as a video display appeared beside them. A press conference was already underway, broadcast live it seemed.

‘… on information received, Detective Madelaine Rutherford of precinct seventeen arrested one Tony Driscoll yesterday at fifteen hundred. The initial charges cover the murder and mutilation of three women in the Jersey Housing Combine area. Investigation continues to link Mister Driscoll with the other murder mutilations carried out throughout the metro.’

‘That’s Rutherford’s captain,’ Fox said.

‘Detective Rutherford is there, but she does not look especially happy,’ Kit commented.

Fox could see that. Rutherford was seated behind the podium her boss was using. She looked mildly annoyed and more than a little anxious. ‘She knows she’s going to get hung out to dry when the next body turns up.’

On screen, a reporter spoke up as the basic statement was concluded. ‘Captain Mott, you say you received information which led to this arrest. Where from?’

‘The North American Police Administration does not reveal its sources without good reason,’ Mott replied. ‘The information led to the discovery of surveillance camera video showing Driscoll with Yvonne Surly, his last victim, immediately prior to her death. Further evidence of his crimes was discovered at his home.’

‘So this information did not come from the parallel investigation by Palladium Security Solutions?’

‘No comment.’

‘Any comment on the sighting of Palladium’s forensics vertol in the Sprawl north of the Combine yesterday?’

‘I am not privy to the day-to-day operation of a private security company.’

Another voice took up the questions. ‘Captain, there has been considerable speculation that the deaths in Jersey don’t fit the same profile as the others. Leaks of crime scene information suggest a copycat. Are you sure that this arrest is the end of the matter?’

Mott was a fairly cool customer, Fox had to admit that: he did not skip a beat. ‘Investigation continues with respect to additional charges which we expect to be brought against Tony Driscoll. Further comment could jeopardise those investigations.’

‘Sister Naomi wishes to speak to you,’ Kit announced.

‘Right,’ Fox said, ‘mute that crap and put her through.’

Naomi appeared in full avatar form beside the sofa. She looked more annoyed than Fox thought she had ever seen her. ‘Ah, I’m not going to be telling you anything new then,’ Naomi said. ‘The memetics room picked this up and contacted me immediately.’

‘Belle did much the same,’ Fox replied.

‘Detective Rutherford does not look convinced. How can she be allowing them–’

‘She’s being overridden. She told me there has been some reluctance to admit there was a copycat. She was hoping a third victim would change that, but now they have an arrest and they want to be able to tie it all up and throw it in a hole.’

‘And there I thought I had become too cynical regarding NAPA.’

Fox shrugged. ‘Too much politics. It’s things like this that make me wonder whether privatising policing wouldn’t be a good thing. Luckily, I usually come to my senses fairly quickly.’

‘I’m getting queries regarding your availability from a number of news agencies, Fox,’ Belle announced.

‘Gah!’ Fox exclaimed, covering her face with her hands.

‘To be expected,’ Naomi said. ‘They’re contacting us at the moment. I’m coming up with a statement.’

‘Ah, good ploy. Belle, tell them a statement will be released later today. Kit, contact Garth Eaves and Dia Barrera. Ask them if they’ve got an opinion on what we should say, if anything.’

‘Passing the buck,’ Naomi said, smiling, ‘is almost always an astute political move.’

‘Yeah, well… So much for “no surprises.” I did not expect NAPA to be this dumb. I mean, I understand it, but I figured they’d hedge more. When Jack strikes again, they are going to look really stupid. Rutherford will take it in the neck to save Mott’s ass… She’s not the best detective out there, but she doesn’t deserve that.’

‘You could save her some of the embarrassment if you caught him before he strikes again.’

Fox gave Naomi a humourless smile. ‘That would be good, yes, but this guy is a ghost. The best and only identification we have on him is that he looks like a dead actor. Um, Kit, did we get anywhere with that guy’s daughter?’

‘Miss Sanderson has not responded to any of my messages,’ Kit said.

‘Keep trying, and run a basic background on her. Maybe we can find something to give her a reason to respond. If all else fails, I’ll fly out to Chicago, but it seems a little excessive considering her father can’t be our killer.’ Fox looked up at Naomi. ‘This case is twisting worse than a dust devil. There’s some key bit of information missing. There’s going to be one little thing that makes this all fall into place, and I don’t have it yet.’

‘Well,’ Naomi said, ‘I hope you find it soon. We’ve been told we can have the funerals for the ones we’ve lost so far. They’re planned for Thursday. I hope I don’t need to organise more.’

‘I’ll try to be there, but I might be out trying to make sure you don’t need to do any others.’

Naomi nodded and gave a weak smile. ‘If you are, I won’t think any less of you.’

~~~

‘Fox, could you come into the murder room?’

Fox looked up from the contract data she had been reading. Kit was looking a little excited and a little perplexed, and the alternative was contract documents. ‘Anything so I don’t have to read this stuff,’ Fox replied. Then she closed her eyes and let herself slide into the viron.

It looked much as it usually did. Several complex webs of interconnected profile data filled the space. The problem was that there were few, if any, connections between the groupings: nothing linked the victims and gave a hint at who had put them in here.

Kit was standing beside one of the groups, a new one which had Alex Sanderson and his daughter in it, plus a copy of the picture from Gilly’s session, and one other image. Fox peered at that one, frowning. ‘Well… That’s him. Who is that?’

‘What is that?’ Kit corrected. ‘That is a Kildare-series surgical robot. Miss Sanderson was the chief robotics engineer on the project and, apparently, had the facial structure designed to look like her father.’

‘I’ve never heard of a Kildare android.’

‘That is not surprising. The concept was to produce a humanoid cyberframe which could handle all aspects of routine surgery, including the pre- and post-activities. It was equipped with built-in, retractable surgical blades in its fingertips, a self-sterilising system, high-quality fine-manipulation controls, and infrared and microscopic vision.’

‘Fingertip blades?’

‘Much as Sister Gilly described, yes. The model proved quite capable of the surgery, but the patient interaction idea failed. They gave it a class two AI and hoped that a highly sensitive olfactory system, capable of distinguishing a number of emotional response factors, would make up for the lack of emotional awareness.’

‘It didn’t?’

‘The “uncanny valley” effect hit the Kildare hard. It looked quite human, but its reactions were stilted or wrong. Patients described it as “too robotic,” “demonic,” and “more like a serial killer than a doctor.” The entire project was shelved, but a few of the series are still held in storage and one or two continue to operate in emergency rooms where delicate surgery is required. Those are in the protectorates where it is difficult to attract skilled physicians.’

Fox frowned at the picture. It matched Gilly’s memory far too well for it to be a coincidence, and there was the built-in armament, and the self-sanitising system would reduce the chance of trace evidence being left behind. An android could have easily waited in a box for several days to get into the chapter house… ‘Could one of these things be run remotely?’

‘The model comes with standard high-bandwidth networking. Any cyberframe is capable of operating as a telepresence drone with the right software installed. The on-board computer was designed with an AI in mind, however.’

‘Yes, but Terri went over the project data from Criminal Minds. If she couldn’t see a problem, then the most obvious AI to be inhabiting one of these things isn’t an option. I’m still looking at a human being behind this.’

Kit gave a shrug. ‘Ultimately, AIs are all subject to human control. There is always a human behind it somewhere.’

Boston Metro, 18th October.

‘Okay, working theory.’ Fox was back in an autocab in Boston, and Terri was back there beside her.

‘Okay, give me what you’ve got and I’ll tell you how crazy it sounds.’

‘The Criminal Minds team did create a Whitechapel analogue AI.’

Terri nodded. ‘I think that’s fairly likely.’

‘It can’t have escaped, but it could have influenced one of the team. Overman or Mortenson, probably. It wouldn’t be direct influence. They just started… empathising with their creation. They started thinking, “Well, maybe old Jack was right. I should continue his great work.”’

‘Not entirely crazy so far.’

‘Good to know. So, our would-be Jack uncovers a Kildare surgical robot in storage, replaces the AI with drone control software, and starts killing women.’

‘Doesn’t explain why the project was closed down, or why the female team members died, or why it’s happening in New York. I mean, why in our metro when there’s one right here?’

‘I did say it was a working theory.’

‘Hypothesis.’

‘I thought that was a longer word for the same thing?’

‘No. Look it up.’

Fox glowered at her friend. ‘A working hypothesis, then. It has holes. Real life has holes, unlike academia.’

‘Touché,’ Terri replied, grinning.

The cab pulled to a stop and Fox reached for the door. ‘What’s wrong with my butt?’

‘Touché, not tush, you ig– You were joking…’

Fox gave Terri a smirk and stepped out of the car. ‘I’ve picked up a little French since I started going out with Jason. Admittedly it’s mostly exclamations made during sex, but I’ve learned a few things. Okay, so I’ll be the bad cop and you’ll be the good psychologist.’

‘That sounds like a novel approach, but we can try it.’

~~~

‘I was not expecting to see you again, Miss Meridian,’ Overman said, an edge of irritation colouring his voice.

‘Captain,’ Fox said, because she was getting annoyed with the man’s attitude.

‘What?’

‘It’s Captain Meridian if you’re going to insist on ramming titles down my throat. On Saturday afternoon, I had a really unpleasant time running forensics on the body of Doctor Arabella Hive, who I seriously doubt cares about the use of her title anymore.’

The colour drained away from Overman’s face. ‘Arabella’s…’

‘Dead. She was murdered. Have you seen the reports from New York about the recent mutilation homicides of prostitutes? Same man killed Doctor Hive. Same method, though he just executed the gang she had hired to protect her.’

‘I saw the reports. The man has been caught.’

‘Just a copycat. A rather sloppy fool who was actually a disciple of Silas Bent. The real Ripper is still out there, and I think you know who it is.’

Overman looked away from her and then he leaned forward, dropping his face into his hands. ‘I can’t believe… Arabella, too.’

‘I’m afraid it’s true, Doctor,’ Terri said. ‘Tara showed me the forensic reports and it’s quite apparent that the man they’ve caught was not responsible. The man who killed Doctor Hive is meticulous, skilled. He has a thorough knowledge of anatomy and probably of psychology. You have to admit that it seems strange that this man, who kills prostitutes, went out of his way to kill Doctor Hive.’

‘S-she was in the Sprawl. Perhaps she was a m-mistake.’

‘Now, see?’ Fox said. ‘There are two problems with that. The first is that our guy went through armed sprawlers, gang members prone to violence, to get to her. He normally takes his victims off the street. Surprises them, kills them before they know what’s happening. Most of them are probably dead long before he cuts them open and scoops their insides out. He made Hive bleed, slowly. She had to be screaming like a bitch when he was cutting her open.’

Overman looked up, anger in his eyes. ‘You’ve no right to–’

‘And the second thing is that you said you didn’t know where she’d gone.’

The man’s jaw worked for a second or two and then he said, ‘You can’t pin this on me. I haven’t been out of Boston any time in the last two months.’

Fox smiled and turned to Terri. ‘Doctor Martins, would you say that sounded like a suggestion that Doctor Overman believes he needs an alibi?’

Terri smiled back. ‘I would, Captain Meridian. Would you mind if I stopped being reasonable now? The prick lied to me too.’

‘No skin off my nose.’

‘Thank you.’ Terri turned an angry glare on Overman. ‘You lied! You built an AI known as Ripper based on the Whitechapel murders.’

‘You can’t prove–’ Overman began.

‘You lied! Why? What could you possibly gain from lying about that? What went wrong?!’

‘Mortenson. You have to ask Mortenson.’

‘We’re asking you. And don’t go saying you were here when the murders happened. We have sufficient evidence to confirm that the killings were carried out by a medical android. You could have done everything by remote from right here in Boston.’

Fox was rather impressed. She had seen Terri pissed off at someone before, but Overman had really annoyed her and she was laying into him as well as any cop Fox had ever seen. Overman looked scared. Fox frowned: Overman looked terrified.

‘He’s got a body!’ The exclamation burst from Overman as a squeak of distress. ‘I… I need protection. You don’t understand what he’s capable of. If he’s got a body… Oh God!’

‘Who?’ Fox asked. ‘Mortenson? What are you talking about?’

‘Mortenson. You have to ask Mortenson. He’ll tell you. He’s mad! He’ll kill us.’

‘I think the pronouns are getting in the way here,’ Terri growled. ‘Doctor? Doctor Overman, who is going to kill you?’

Overman slumped in his seat. ‘Mortenson. You go and ask Mortenson.’

~~~

Doctor Mortenson opened his door, took one look at Fox, and started to close it again. Fox’s brow wrinkled and she stepped forward, shoulder-barging the door right into Mortenson’s face. There was a combination of wince and barely suppressed giggle from behind her.

‘You can’t come in here like–’ Mortenson began from where he had sprawled in his front hall. Off to one side, through a large, open doorway, Fox could see a lounge with too much old, wooden furniture and a lot of big, fluffy cushions with flower-print fabric all over them. The man probably had not redecorated since his mother died.

‘Damn right I can’t, but if I have to come back later, I’ll be bringing a lot of cops with me and they’ll be tearing this place apart to find evidence of what you’ve been doing in New York.’

Mortenson climbed to his feet. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t been to New York Metro in over three years.’

‘We know about the Kildare-series, Doctor,’ Terri said. ‘We know the murders in New York were done by remote. Now Doctor Hive is dead, killed by the same means as seven prostitutes. That links your project with the serial killer in New York. We know you created a Ripper AI; Doctor Overman confirmed it. It’s better that you come clean now–’

‘You know nothing!’ Mortenson snapped.

‘We know enough,’ Fox said. ‘Overman rolled on you, Mortenson. He sent us here.’

‘But he was surprised about the android,’ Terri said, ‘and you weren’t. You knew.’

Mortenson moved into the lounge, distancing himself, but he was not throwing them out. ‘I have not been killing people with an android. You’re insane.’

Fox followed. The lounge was even more flowery and feminine when you were surrounded by it. The only masculine element was the huge portrait looming over the fireplace, and that was of a woman. Older, dressed in a lab coat, she stood in a posture normally seen in victorious generals posing for paintings. One hand was casually raised to indicate a chart which had been put in behind her: one of those slices through the brain with the parts and functions labelled.

‘Doctor Mortenson’s mother,’ Kit supplied. ‘She was a noted neuroscientist.’

‘You created a Ripper AI,’ Terri said, pressing onward. ‘You denied it. Why?’

‘There was no–’ Mortenson began.

‘You were the one who named it,’ Fox said. ‘You called it “Ripper” last time we were here and no one had mentioned the term before then. You created Ripper and Bent, but you’re hiding the existence of one of them. Only one. Why?’

‘Women never listen. There was no Ripper AI.’

‘You’re lying.’

He turned, anger flashing in his eyes. ‘There was no need for one.’

‘But you made one,’ Terri said, ‘because… Because the Bent AI was designed to follow media reports. He was supposed to copy and elaborate. That was the design methodology. You wanted live data to work with and there’s too little detail in the existing Whitechapel reports for you to study the linkage accurately. You needed to work with both sides of the equation.’

‘Easy one to set up too,’ Fox said. ‘You just had to draw on your own feelings. I’d say it’s a classic love–hate relationship with your mother, but Teresa’s the psychologist. So, what happened? You began to think that maybe old Jack had it right? Did you blame the women in the team for the project’s shutdown? Is that why you killed them first?’

‘I didn’t kill anyone, you stupid–’ The roar was cut off abruptly, presumably because he had been about to give away exactly what he felt about women, but now he shrank back, edging toward the fireplace and the safety of his mother’s portrait. ‘You don’t understand. If he finds out, he’ll kill me too. You can’t stop him. Even you should have figured that out by now.’

‘I’ve worked out that you’ve got no spine, but I admit that doesn’t take much intelligence. Who the fuck are you talking about, Mortenson? It’s not Overman. He’s as scared as you are.’

Mortenson stared at her for a second. ‘Ripper. It’s Ripper. He–’

Terri cut him off by striding forward and grabbing the front of his shirt in both hands. ‘It can’t be the AI! I read the method statements. You had all the AIs isolated.’ Her eyes flicked between his as he tried to look away. ‘What did you do?’ Mortenson’s head turned away and Terri shook him. ‘What did you do?!’

‘When I set up Bent, I needed a feed of data between the two. I used manually transferred reports at first, faked media broadcasts Bent could see and react to. Then… Then I decided to automate the process.’

‘You connected the servers.’ Mortenson nodded in reply. ‘Against every protocol in the book.’

‘Those protocols were overkill. Linking two standalone servers was… efficient for the purpose.’

‘But you didn’t stop there, did you?’

‘I wanted to be able to observe them continuously. Their interaction was becoming… It was more than I could have hoped for.’ Fox could see the man becoming excited now. He jerked away from Terri and began to pace, each step making him more animated. ‘Bent functioned much as expected, though his escalation was more rapid and extreme with the live information than the real Silas Bent exhibited. Ripper was something else, a reaction I could not have expected. He seemed to be aware of his more modern contemporary. More, he began to show signs of true sentience! We based them all on class three AIs, you see, because the lowered emotional response was actually desirable in our tests.’

‘Ripper exhibited signs of emergence?’

‘Yes!’ Mortenson paused on the end of one of his loops, right beside Terri, and threw up his hands. ‘Don’t you see what this means?!’

‘Oh yes.’ Before he realised what was happening, Terri had slapped the man right across the face. ‘You’ve given all the AI conspiracy nuts exactly what they need to set back our research for decades! You stupid, arrogant, insufferable little… idiot!’

‘You can’t talk to me like that!’

Terri ignored him, turning to Fox. ‘The moron networked into the joined servers just so he could watch in comfort, and then he let an emergent AI with no behavioural controls continue without safeguards.’

‘And it escaped the viron,’ Fox said, nodding. ‘That’s why they closed down the project and erased all the information about the Ripper AI.’

‘You’ve no proof of that,’ Mortenson said. ‘No proof! I’ll deny everything.’

‘NAPA will go through the project records with every forensic analysis tool they have,’ Fox said. ‘If they can’t find anything, Palladium will get involved, and Teresa and her father will figure it out. I don’t care how thoroughly you think you’ve covered your tracks, they’ll dig out enough proof to get you locked away until your teeth fall out. I’m pretty sure we can have you charged with multiple counts of negligent homicide. Ever been to the Moon, Doctor? Because I think you’re going to be spending a lot of time there in the future.’

Airborne, Northbound over the Atlantic.

‘You really think they’ll put him in Cold Harbour?’ Terri asked. She was a little subdued and had been ever since they had handed Mortenson over to NAPA in Boston.

‘They’ll worry over exactly the same thing that you’re worrying about,’ Fox replied. ‘When this gets out, and it will, soon, people will freak about killer AIs roaming the internet. So they’ll emphasise his stupidity and make an example of him. Then they’ll tighten a few rules and hope it sounds like they’ve done something.’

‘Hmm. The memetics department is going to be working like crazed dogs to counter this one. It’s bad.’

‘No, it’s not. One idiot fucked up. The rules you have in place are perfectly good ones, if they’re followed. The perception of the problem could be bad.’

‘And it’s all about perception.’

‘So? Get Kit on some talk shows or something. If anyone can believe class fours are evil after seeing Kit, they’re never going to think otherwise.’

Kit appeared between the flight chairs, grinning. ‘Thank you, Fox.’

‘Actually, that might not be a bad idea,’ Terri mused. ‘I mean, very few people have actually met an AI of Kit’s class. She’s cute, and we could push the help she gives you on cases. That might help.’

Kit’s expression shifted to one of slight worry, and she decided that a change of subject might be in order. ‘Oh, Marie asked if you would both like to attend a celebratory drink at the house tonight.’

‘Celebrating what?’ Fox asked.

‘While we were in Boston, IB-Nineteen announced a series based around her M. J. character.’

‘They went ahead with it then? Cool.’

‘You knew about this?’ Terri asked.

‘I made a joke when I was interviewing the writer and producer, and they swore me to secrecy because no one was supposed to know about it. I guess I knew before Marie did.’

‘Okay, I’ll drop by the house for that. Please let Marie know I’ll be there, Kit.’

‘And I’ll be there anyway.’

Kit nodded. ‘I shall inform Belle.’

‘And maybe we could discuss your interview technique,’ Terri added, smirking, ‘since Marie has some experience in that area.’

Kit sagged a little. ‘I’m sure that would be very… interesting.’

New York Metro.

‘We’re doing a pilot,’ Marie said. ‘A new one to introduce the series and reintroduce the character. And we’re guaranteed another five episodes with a probable extension to thirteen and Nate is convinced we’ll get to do a full season.’

Fox smiled: it was hard not to in the face of Marie’s enthusiasm. ‘What about your co-star from the movie?’

‘Ah… His character was killed in a shootout. It’s tragic. M. J. is mortified. Adrian says there’s a flashback scene to the funeral where I get to be all weepy.’

‘Hopefully you’ll have managed to stop grinning by then. Congratulations, Marie. I really hope this works out for you.’

Marie beamed. ‘I think it will. I have good feelings about it. And I think it’s time to renegotiate my working arrangements, Sam. I get paid for this and I won’t have time to do the cleaning.’

‘Even a little?’ Sam asked. ‘Now and then, in that French maid’s outfit?’

Marie went pink since Fox, Terri, and Dillan were all there, and all giggling. ‘Well, maybe on special occasions, but I think I should start paying proper rent.’

Sam gave her a solemn nod. ‘We’ll discuss a suitable rent. Have you told Naomi about the series?’

‘Yes, and Nate had already called the Sisters to check there would be no problem with the concept. Actually, Sister Naomi said she might get some time to come over for this.’

‘A limousine has just arrived outside the house, Marie,’ Belle said. ‘I suspect she has succeeded.’

‘Oh! Good. I’ll go down and–’

‘I’ll go,’ Fox said. ‘You stay there and look like a vid star.’

‘There are two women in the Sisters’ uniform coming to the door,’ Belle informed them.

‘Two?’ Marie asked. ‘Wonder who she’s brought with her.’

‘I can guess,’ Fox replied as she headed for the door. ‘Belle, let them in and I’ll meet them in the hall.’

Gilly looked as though she was fully recovered from her injuries. Whether she was psychologically as fit as she was physically was another matter, but she was back in uniform and smiling as Fox came down the stairs.

‘Come on up,’ Fox said. ‘We’re camped out in Sam’s lounge. He spent ages laying it out just right and it seems a shame not to use it.’

‘He actually listened to those lectures?’ Naomi asked. ‘Hardly anyone bothers.’

Fox grinned. ‘He said pretty much the same thing, but he had the chance to do it, so he did. How are you doing, Gilly?’

Gilly was tripping up the stairs in high heels without any apparent discomfort. ‘I’m good,’ she said. ‘Mostly good. I’m still getting bad dreams a-and my confidence is… not quite what it was.’

‘I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but you’ll get over it. Mostly.’

‘Fox would know,’ Naomi said.

‘Unfortunately, I do have some experience with recovering from trauma. Terri’s upstairs too. Talk to her if you want a less… military view on recovery. I think that both of us benefitted when we finally nailed everyone involved in the Dallas op. You might be lucky. We think we’ve got a strong lead on the Ripper.’

‘You have?’

‘Yes, and Gilly’s picture was part of the solution. You helped when we get him, Gilly.’

‘Well, that would be something,’ Gilly said. ‘I think I’d recognise him when I see him.’

‘Maybe, but it wouldn’t do much good. What you saw was an android with an infomorph in it. I don’t want to go into the details now, but this is one of those freak things which… Well, someone probably should have seen something like this coming. NAPA in Boston have already arrested two men over it.’

‘I’m probably going to get extremely angry about that,’ Naomi said, ‘but it can wait until tomorrow. I assume Marie is rather excited?’

‘You could say that. To be honest, I think she’ll be more excited to see Gilly was fit enough to come over.’

It was something of an understatement; Marie practically bounced off her seat, across the room, and then continued to bounce with Gilly wrapped in her arms. ‘You’re okay! You look great. I’m so glad you could come. You’re allowed a drink, right? Let me get you a drink. Hello, Sister Naomi.’

Naomi grinned. ‘Hello to you, Marie, and congratulations. At least we can tell that stardom hasn’t gone to your head yet.’

‘Wait until the first reviews come out on the pilot,’ Sam suggested. ‘That’s when we’ll see the ego coming out.’ He was on his feet and handing Naomi a glass of wine. ‘Welcome to my home.’

‘You’ve done very well with it. I can see your lessons in the layout. You have v-tag colour schemes for working?’

‘Based on the schemes you taught me in Boston.’

‘They work too,’ Marie said. ‘I got him to try a few out one evening and… Wow. I couldn’t keep my hands off him.’

Gilly giggled. ‘I’m pretty sure that’s got nothing to do with the room. I saw the two of you in bedroom etiquette class.’

‘Yes,’ Naomi said, her lips curling. ‘We’ve considered using the recordings of that in other training sessions.’

‘You haven’t?!’ Marie squeaked.

‘Well, we may not be able to. That class doesn’t have a licence for recording porn.’

19th October.

Rutherford was glowering by the time Kit had run through the evidence that Driscoll was not the ‘real’ Ripper. She continued to glare at the displays Kit had put up for several seconds before speaking. ‘You are one huge pain in the ass, Meridian,’ she finally said.

‘I’ve been called worse,’ Fox replied.

‘I’ll put this in front of my captain, but the official line is that Driscoll is responsible for all of the deaths. IA is watching every damn thing we do and I think Robbard is pushing the single killer theory.’

‘What the Hell for? I don’t see why that gains anyone anything. I don’t see why IA is involved in this at all!’

‘Neither do I, but they are. There was some muttering about information security, but since you got that regulation passed letting you look at all the case files, I fail to see what their problem is.’

‘That was Wayden’s amendment. We just strengthened the reasoning.’

‘Whatever. IA is all over this case and the captain always comes out of meetings with Robbard yelling for me to wrap this up and tie everything to Driscoll.’

Fox frowned. She had her suspicions about Robbard’s motives and allegiances, and this did not seem to fit with them. ‘Kit,’ she said silently, ‘task Palladium with a background check on Inspector Robbard.’ Aloud, she said, ‘Put this in front of them. Do it soon. Because he’s going to strike again, and when he does, you want to be able to point to this and say you thought there was another man out there besides Driscoll.’

‘Huh, yeah, but that’s the problem, right?’ Rutherford said. ‘It’s not a man. It’s going to take a lot of convincing to get anyone to believe we’ve got a robotic Jack the Ripper running around killing people.’

It was Fox’s turn to glower. ‘How, exactly, do they figure Driscoll hit the Sisters’ chapter house? How do they explain the fact that the only live witness we have gave a description which does not match Driscoll in the slightest?’

‘Your witness was wounded and traumatised, and Driscoll got in through lapsed security.’ Rutherford held her hands up to fend off the immediate response. ‘That’s not in my reports; it’s annotations made by my captain. I tell you, someone’s putting a lot of pressure on to get Driscoll convicted of all of it.’

‘Great.’ Fox looked at Kit, but she kept her order silent. ‘Put a rush on that background check, Kit.’

20th October.

‘Inspector Alan Franklin Robbard, born in Wilmington, New England Administrative Region, in twenty twenty-one. His father was in the Army, his mother a housewife. Entered the Army himself, following home-schooling, in twenty forty-two.’

Fox listened as Kit went over Robbard’s basic history, waiting for the point where something sounded wrong. Something was going to sound wrong. Something had to sound wrong.

‘Following basic training, he went on to do military police training and then entered service with the fourteenth MP brigade. He was stationed at Fort Meade until leaving the service in twenty fifty-six, by which point he held the rank of first lieutenant and had graduated to investigative work. He joined NAPA the same year, as a detective, moving into internal affairs in twenty fifty-eight when he was promoted to inspector.’

Kit looked at Fox to see whether she would say anything, but Fox appeared to be thinking. ‘His military and NAPA careers have been unremarkable. No commendations or reprimands on record. He was noted for marksmanship with a four-millimetre pistol during basic training.’

‘Okay, so he’s NIX,’ Fox said. ‘Thought he was.’

‘Could you explain your reasoning?’ Kit asked.

Fox gave her a quick grin. ‘Of course I can, Kit. It’s kind of sloppy, actually. The fourteenth MP brigade is assigned to the North-West Protectorate. No way would one of them be assigned to Fort Meade. Well, maybe some sort of liaison role… It’s highly unlikely for that extended period. The Army doesn’t use four-mil pistols. That’s a street weapon, also employed by covert operatives due to the compact form factor. So, wrong weapon and an unlikely posting to the home of NIX…’

‘Would suggest a faked background designed to be appealing to NAPA, and so Inspector Robbard is likely to be a NIX agent.’

‘Correct. Now, why is he so keen to have all the murders assigned to Driscoll?’

Kit frowned for a second and then brightened. ‘If NIX were somehow aware of the Ripper AI prior to our discovery of it, they might wish to capture it. With NAPA’s attention focused on Mister Driscoll, NIX would be free to locate the Ripper AI without NAPA getting in the way.’

‘That is a good theory, but how would they have known about it?’

Kit shrugged. ‘Overwatch.’

‘We’re relying on internet conspiracy memes to explain it?’ Fox gave a grimace to indicate her thoughts on the matter.

‘Mister Martins believes it may be true. And a comprehensive surveillance system might well have known of the project and have access to the case files. AIs are good at aggregating data from multiple sources and the putative Overwatch AI could have put two and two together.’

Fox gave a grunt of displeasure. ‘I don’t like it, but it happens to fit the facts too well.’

‘Agreed. I… Fox, there are several breaking news reports appearing indicating that a number of bodies have been found by workers in a storm drain in the Brooklyn area.’

Fox raised an eyebrow. ‘A number?’

‘The reports vary between six and twenty. It appears that some of the workers contacted news channels before or after contacting NAPA. All the reports indicate mutilation and some considerable decay. All the reports also suggest that all the bodies are female.’

‘The Ripper again. Where is this?’

‘The exact location is not being reported, but it appears to be beneath the Sprawl in Brooklyn. The second Ripper victim, Jodine Cooper, was found in the Brooklyn Sprawl.’

‘So he killed more up there, but he hid the bodies for some reason. Maybe he meant to hide Cooper’s, but he was disturbed. Maybe he dragged them down there so he could take his time over the cutting. Whatever, they’re going to try to link this to Driscoll. I want the crime scene and autopsy reports ASAP.’

‘I’ll put the requests through immediately.’

~~~

‘A NAPA press release indicates that the seven victims were found with wounds consistent with those of Tony Driscoll’s other victims and that no other persons are being investigated at this time.’

Fox frowned at the news channel display. Sam and Marie were sitting to either side of her, waiting for her comments about the latest developments, but her immediate thoughts were just stemming from annoyance and not worth repeating.

‘Initial forensic analysis suggests that all seven were killed between the twenty-third and twenty-ninth of September, between the murders of Jodine Cooper and Sister Georgina Parton.’

‘Right,’ Fox said, ‘so after that amount of time in a storm drain, getting detailed wound analysis is going to take longer than a few hours. At this stage, there’s no way they could differentiate the Ripper’s work and Driscoll’s. They’re portraying conjecture as fact.’

‘Won’t they look a bit stupid when the real Ripper strikes again?’ Marie asked.

‘They’ll blame inaccurate reporting. Then they’ll go with a copycat following after Driscoll, or just make a scapegoat out of Rutherford.’

‘Oh.’

‘But you’re right. When the next body turns up, NAPA are going to look like idiots.’

Part Four: Marie Jeanette

New York Metro, 22nd October 2060.

Everyone knew her as Silver. It was actually her name, but most assumed it was a nickname and the result of her hair, which was waist-length, very straight, and metallic silver. She had discovered a cosmetician who could achieve the effect early in her career and made it into her trademark. It was memorable, she was good at her job, and she had made quite a fortune. She still worked because she enjoyed it, not because she had to. She could afford to be selective about her clients, so she was, and the result was that she enjoyed her job even more.

She walked up 3rd Avenue to an assignation with one such client because she only lived three blocks away and the evening was pleasant. Her black dress was tasteful and very expensive; the lingerie beneath was expensive and risqué. Silver was all about elegance and subtlety, combined with a wild sexuality her clients found almost impossible to give up once they had experienced it. She was at home in almost any environment, but had found her home in the MCD: this was her territory and she felt safe there.

It came as something of a surprise then when, shortly after she turned down East 83rd Street, someone pulled her over a low wall and into an alleyway.

23rd October.

‘Silver Quade,’ Sam said. ‘Everyone knew her as just Silver and assumed it was a nickname.’

‘Because of the hair?’ Fox asked.

‘Yes. She actually had her hair changed to match her name. I worked with her once or twice, met her socially once or twice. She was beautiful, exquisite really. Delicate to look at but strong beneath. Very well liked and quite wealthy. I’m not surprised the media coverage has escalated.’

Fox glanced at the six channel displays which she currently had hanging in the air in front of her sofa. The coverage of the death of Silver Quade had been nonstop since her body had been found the night before.

It had not exactly come at a great time, given that the funerals for the dead Sisters had happened the day before, and NAPA had still not delivered the forensic reports on the seven bodies in the storm drain. NAPA were citing ‘operational delays,’ but it seemed like they were holding the information back to delay Fox’s investigation. And there was the other thing…

‘I put a call through to Rutherford to ask whether I could go down to the crime scene, and she’s been pushed off into what they’re calling an “advisory role.” Inspector Olin from precinct eighteen is now the lead.’

‘They went for the scapegoat option?’

‘Seems like it. The case will get some significant resource now. That’s something at least.’

Sam frowned. ‘Somehow, I don’t find that comforting. I don’t believe Naomi will either.’

~~~

‘I have Inspector Olin and Detective Rutherford at the door,’ Belle announced. ‘I have verified their identities and credentials.’

‘That sounds serious,’ Fox commented, dragging her head out of contract requirements and rising to her feet.

‘Inspector Olin indicated that he wished to question you regarding the recent murders.’

‘Hmm. Let them into the hall. I’ll talk to them in the lounge downstairs. Don’t worry about refreshments. I’m expecting to kick them out in fairly short order.’

Olin was tall and slim, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and just a little too narrow in the face to be called handsome. His suit was designer. Cops who wore designer suits were, in Fox’s opinion, suspect. His expression suggested arrogance and a sense of superiority which did not exactly endear him either. He stood in the hall as though he owned the place.

Rutherford stood beside him giving a passable impression of a kicked dog.

‘Inspector,’ Fox said as she walked down the stairs. ‘Detective. I can give you a couple of minutes, but please be brief.’ Attack seemed the best form of defence and, sure enough, she noted the shift in Olin’s expression which indicated she had irritated him.

‘I’m investigating the death of Miss Silver Quade,’ Olin stated, ‘and any possible connection with other deaths outside my precinct.’

Fox reached the bottom of the stairs and motioned for them to follow her into the lounge. ‘I’m sure you are. Detective Rutherford has all the information I’ve gathered on the other murders. NAPA has, so far, been negligent in presenting Palladium Security Solutions with data on the seven bodies in Brooklyn, and we have received nothing regarding Miss Quade.’

‘Negligent is a rather strong word, Miss Meridian.’

Fox turned around and fixed Olin with a stare. ‘It’s an accurate word, and one which was used in the complaint we lodged this morning. I’m extremely busy, Inspector. I have an investigation to run, which NAPA are impeding, and a considerable amount of contract requirement documentation to work through. If you are here simply to waste my time, I’ll be lodging another complaint before you leave.’

Olin’s eyes narrowed, but he seemed to have reasonable control. When he spoke, his tone was level. ‘You carried out two forensic examinations of crime scenes involved in this case.’

‘Yes. One at a location under contract to Palladium Security Solutions, the other at a site found by myself and my assistant. I consulted the lead investigator before going ahead with the latter having presented her with information leading to the arrest of Tony Driscoll.’

Olin smiled. ‘Oh yes, the information leading to Driscoll’s arrest. Where did that come from?’

Fox smiled back. ‘Cambot patrol positions are published two hours after the completion of a mission for verification purposes. Noting one in the correct location at the right time was a fairly trivial exercise, and one which NAPA could have done.’

The inspector scowled. ‘Let me make this quite clear, Miss Meridian. Your interference in this case will not be tolerated–’

‘Get out of my home then,’ Fox snapped.

‘What?’

‘You won’t accept my help and you’re wasting my time. Leave. Now.’

‘I want all the information you gathered at the two crime scenes.’

‘You clearly didn’t hear me, Inspector. You have everything which was gathered. Now, out. You are no longer welcome here. Any further questions to Palladium Security Solutions should be addressed through our legal department.’

Olin’s control was slipping, but he gritted his teeth and turned for the door. ‘I expect your full cooperation on this, Meridian.’

‘Well, you lost that when you came in here accusing me of not doing so before you stole the case off Rutherford. If you want anything else, get a warrant. Now get out before I call the cops.’

24th October.

‘The annoying little man turned up like the dictator of a small country with Rutherford following behind like a whipped puppy.’ Naomi’s avatar was managing to convey her irritation at Olin exceptionally well.

‘You’d know more about whips than I would,’ Fox said, deadpan.

Naomi spat out a laugh and then flashed Fox a smile. ‘Thank you. I needed that, though I am glad I wasn’t drinking coffee just then.’

‘I had the pleasure of kicking him out the door and lodging a complaint against him. It takes the edge off the annoyance. What did he want?’

‘Oh, he demanded to see the room and the freezer. We’ve kept the box, as you asked, though we moved it, on its pallet, into a corner. He complained about the disturbance and said we should have kept everything as it was. We haven’t cleaned the room yet, so he couldn’t complain about that, but he bitched about the corridor. He said he wanted to see the blood from Gilly’s wounds.’

‘Give it an hour to cool down, then put through a reasoned complaint about his behaviour. Every site NAPA have processed, including the last one, was sanitised within a couple of hours of the discovery. He has better forensic data than he would normally get and full VR reconstructions of everything. He didn’t need to see it physically and had no right to expect it given that Rutherford didn’t request that you maintain the sites. That’s Rutherford’s bad, but Olin is following right along in her footsteps procedurally.’

Naomi frowned. ‘He requested to interview Gilly. I told him she was in classes and he said he wanted to interview her tomorrow. I’m going to decline unless he can give a valid reason.’

‘He’s digging for something he can use to hang the blame on someone else. We’re still getting delays in receiving new case data. Legal will be pushing through another complaint this afternoon if they don’t move before then.’

‘People are covering their asses left, right, and centre, aren’t they?’

‘Yeah,’ Fox agreed, nodding slowly. ‘You know, a sort-of-nun saying “asses” just seems wrong.’

‘Oh, Fox, tits and ass are our stock-in-trade. It’s all about the T and A.’

~~~

‘We have the data from NAPA,’ Kit announced, once again dragging Fox away from her requirements analysis. Fox was not exceptionally sorry about that. ‘All the bodies from Brooklyn, and Miss Quade.’

‘Okay, make sure legal know. I’m betting they’re about thirty seconds from sending in the next complaint.’

‘They were two minutes from sending it, but they have filed it for reference instead. I have yet to do a thorough analysis of the files. There is quite a lot of it.’

‘And there I thought you were superhuman.’

‘I am insulted. Comparing me to a mere human, indeed. I did note one element in the inventory record, however. There was a note left on Miss Quade’s body.’ Kit held up a facsimile of a blood-stained sheet of paper with writing on it in block print. ‘It reads “Fair Emma can hide behind no disguise. She is dead though she knows it not.”’

Fox frowned. ‘“Fair Emma” was one of Mary Jane Kelly’s nicknames. No one’s quite sure why. And why’s he leaving a note on the body? He’s never done that before. When the media gets a hold of that one… Shit! Kit, get on to legal and internal security. I want a lock on all communications, corporate and private, for anyone who’s even been in the building while that data has been with us. Message everyone concerned to tell them that we will need to log everything they do for the next forty-eight hours. That includes everyone in this house.’

‘Initial messages dispatched, Fox, but why?’

‘Because Olin doesn’t like me very much and Robbard really hates me.’

~~~

The first reports with the note in appeared on the news channels in the early evening. They were sketchy about a lot of the details of the actual murder, but they all had the text of the note quoted verbatim. Fox watched the feed from IB-62, though she had asked Belle to scan as many of the other channels as she could manage to see if anything new or essentially weird came up.

‘NAPA were unavailable for comment at this time,’ the presenter stated as he wrapped the segment, ‘but inside sources indicate that the leak of information is being investigated.’

‘Of course it is,’ Fox said, and then she muted the broadcast because she could hear Marie running down the corridor from the back stairs.

‘Did you see it?’ Marie asked as she burst in through the lounge door. ‘That was one of M. J.’s nicknames. I mean, “Fair Emma” was one of the original Mary Jane Kelly’s nicknames.’

‘I saw it,’ Fox replied, ‘and I did know that. I’m pleased to see you do.’

‘Background reading on the original person the character was based on. Not that there’s much background. She was kind of enigmatic. So enigmatic that some people claimed to have seen her after she was supposed to be dead. What do you think the note means?’

‘No idea. Kit? You’ve had time to use your super-AI powers now. Anything coming up that’s outside the usual?’

Kit appeared as Marie walked over to sit on the sofa. ‘I’ll refrain from displaying the crime scene images,’ Kit said, ‘because I don’t believe Marie needs to see them.’

‘I’d be okay,’ Marie replied.

‘Marie, I wish I hadn’t seen them. The bodies found in the storm drain were too badly decomposed for anything to be absolutely certain. The wounds had suffered considerable deformation. There were missing organs, but those could easily be inside the local rats. The abdominal trauma is more consistent with the Ripper victims than the Driscoll ones, however.’

‘To be expected,’ Fox said.

‘The times of death fall within the time range reported in the media, occurring between the second and third victims. I suppose the third victim is now the tenth. The abdominal trauma is a little more extreme than for the other victims. You may be right about taking them down there to have more time, Fox. Identification attempts are continuing, but the two so far named are Brenda Coulton and Lee Rand, both unregistered prostitutes from the Sprawl.’

‘Okay. Street girls aren’t hard to identify, and he’s got a ready supply up there. What about Quade?’

‘Rapid death by exsanguination due to a lateral stroke across the throat using a short blade made of surgical steel. The wound track and bruising to the face suggests that she was held and then cut from behind, left to right. Further abdominal incisions were made post-mortem. Her heart was missing from the scene.’

‘M. J.’s heart was removed,’ Marie said. ‘Is that it? Miss Quade had silver hair, so she’s “Fair Emma,” and he took her heart and left the note to say her “disguise” didn’t work?’

‘Maybe,’ Fox said, ‘but it doesn’t quite work.’

‘The note implies that his disguised victim is currently alive,’ Kit added, ‘but that she does not know that she is marked for death.’

‘And the date’s wrong. Kelly probably died in the early hours of the ninth of November. That’s not far off. If he’s going to make the link, why not wait and do it at the right time?’

‘Oh,’ Marie said. ‘So someone’s going to die on the ninth.’

‘Not if I can help it. He’s getting cocky. That’s never a good idea if you’re a serial killer.’

‘Well, I think I need a drink. You want one?’

‘Sorry. I have to go over to the MarTech tower to meet a visitor, and then I need to get some rest. Early start tomorrow.’

‘Oh? Something to do with the case?’

‘Obliquely. I’m expecting a couple of inspectors to turn up quite early tomorrow.’

25th October.

Fox was awake and fully dressed at seven a.m. when Olin and Robbard came to the door. She opened it herself only a few seconds after they had announced themselves and provided identification, and Robbard looked a little worried by that. Olin was too busy being smug.

Just to give Robbard more of a feeling of apprehension, Fox said, ‘Gentlemen, come in. We’ve been expecting you.’

Olin paused at that. ‘We?’

‘Yes. Come through to the lounge.’ Ushering them through, Fox did not get to see the looks on their faces when they found a man waiting for them. A man in a dark-grey suit who just stank of lawyer. ‘Inspectors Olin and Robbard, this is Trey Gorse. Trey is the head of the legal department at Palladium Security Solutions. He’s come all the way from Chicago to hear what you have to say, so please don’t disappoint him.’

Olin had lost a lot of his smug. ‘We’re investigating a leak of sensitive information to the media. Specifically, the content of a note left at the scene of Miss Silver Quade’s murder.’

‘Yes, that was reported by several news channels. However, you’re not empowered to investigate that given that you should be under investigation. And Inspector Robbard is internal affairs, so he’s not empowered to investigate outside NAPA.’

Olin bit his lip for a second. ‘We want you to come with us to precinct eighteen HQ where–’

‘No,’ Fox said.

‘No? You’re refusing to come in for questioning?’

Fox smiled at Olin. ‘Trey, would you?’

‘Of course, Fox.’ The lawyer continued to smile as he addressed the two detectives. ‘Realising the issue of media attention should the content of this evidence become public knowledge, Miss Meridian placed an immediate lockdown on all communications within the company. This was lifted having received permission from all employees with access to the data to have their communications and activities logged. On specific request, Palladium Security Solutions will make these logs available for review; however, no employee of Palladium Security Solutions with access to this data has contacted anyone in the media since Palladium Security Solutions received the data. Further harassment of any employee of Palladium Security Solutions or any suggestion that Palladium Security Solutions was involved in the leak of the aforementioned information will result in punitive legal action.’

Fox had to admit she was a little impressed. The whole speech was delivered in such a pleasant tone, but it basically came down to ‘fuck off or we’ll sue your ass.’ Olin was looking like he might explode!

Robbard, however, was still thinking. ‘What about the other people in this building?’

‘They both agreed to have their communications monitored,’ Fox said, ‘but neither of them knew about the note until it came out on the news channels. Everything that happens here is monitored by the house AI who can be called as a legal witness to state that I didn’t speak to any of them about this until Miss Shaftsbury saw it on IB-Nineteen and came upstairs to ask me about it.’

Olin opened his mouth, but Robbard got in ahead of him. ‘Thank you for your time, Miss Meridian, Mister Gorse. If we require corroboration of your testimony, we will be in touch.’

Fox showed the two of them out and closed the door behind them. She could still hear Olin detonating outside the door even if she could not quite make out what he was saying.

‘Inspector Olin appears to have forgotten that I have audio receptors outside the door,’ Belle said, appearing beside Fox to walk back into the lounge with her. ‘His language is… quite choice. He believes you are a–’

‘I really don’t want to know,’ Fox interrupted, ‘but keep it logged in case we need it. Thanks for that, Trey. I’m sorry to have dragged you all the way here for five minutes’ work.’

Gorse smiled: it looked very genuine, and just the kind of thing you expected to see on a shark that has just spotted a really juicy tuna. ‘Oh, my pleasure. Do you know how rarely I get to tell cops to piss off? And I get a couple of hours off reading through contract documents.’

Fox sagged. ‘Don’t remind me. I’m just going over them to work out what we need to fulfil them and it’s driving me nuts. Ryan has to be pulling his hair out.’

‘He is looking more and more like a zombie every day.’

‘And Alice said there was no chance of a zombie plague in Chicago.’ Fox grinned. ‘I guess she didn’t take into account contract documents.’

27th October.

‘All right, the Topeka area,’ Eaves said. He was working down a list which everyone in the teleconference had, so Fox had expected that one to be next and had her notes ready. ‘Ryan?’ Eaves asked.

‘As expected, they’re going for a local watch model for basic policing,’ Ryan said, jumping straight in. ‘We don’t need extra resource in that area to cover response and the training schedule they’ve requested shouldn’t stress us either. It also looks good. They aren’t skimping. They want intensive training for the full-time officers, induction courses for the part-timers. Operational assist packages for on-duty personnel and a rolling programme aimed at getting investigation assistance vests in every patrol vehicle, though they’re starting out with response vehicles.’

‘Mom’s excited,’ Fox said. ‘Dad’s… reservedly pleased with the plans so far. They’re using a core of fully employed, trained officers backed up by a volunteer force, which they’re screening to cut out the ones who just want a reason to bully people. They are planning to contract out complex investigation work, at least initially. We’re going to need someone in that region who can handle that. I put forward a name for us to contact to see if he’d be willing to go private.’

Eaves spoke up. ‘Raymond Rogers, detective. You worked with him on the Bateson case.’

‘Yeah. Good attitude, observant, and he’s not an inspector which likely means they won’t look at him for taking on an auditing role. He may know someone else in the area we could tap. I think two in the Topeka region would be best. What do you think of taking on around five to cover the Kansas Belt as a whole?’

‘Sounds a little low, given the number of contracts.’

‘You’re thinking in terms of a metro. A lot of the crime in those regions can be wrapped by someone with a support vest. And we can tap central resource if something really bad comes up. I want to staff an office here, in tower three, with core resource. Specialists, exceptional general investigators, all with fast transport to get them where they need to be when something difficult comes up. Jackson’s looking at getting one of his financial AIs trained up in forensic accounting and those things are pretty damn good at digging out details already.’

Ryan was grinning. ‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were starting to enjoy this.’

‘Huh, if I didn’t daydream a little while going through these files, you’d probably be watching my mad rampage through Times Square with an assault rifle. I’ll need some help on the budget proposals.’

‘Get the basic requirements to me,’ Eaves said, ‘and I’ll have the finance department run some figures. Same for you, Ryan. How’s the Ripper thing going, Fox?’

‘I think NAPA is trying to trap him,’ Fox replied.

‘Control in New York has noticed a heavy increase in cambot patrols,’ Ryan said.

‘Exactly. Particularly in precinct eighteen, but they’re even pushing out more flights in the Sprawl areas. I haven’t gone out to look, but I expect they’ve got, or plan to have, a bunch of plain-clothes officers on the streets, hoping they’ll be nearby when he strikes again.’

‘That’s… going to need a bunch of luck.’

‘Oh yeah, but it may be the best they can do unless they can figure out who, when, and where he’s going to hit. Kit found me the specs on the Kildare-series. He needs power to recharge about once a week and the number of places he could get that probably climbs into the thousands. Beyond that, he could hide just about anywhere. No need for food, water, even air. He doesn’t sleep and he can operate in the dark without much trouble. No, waiting for an attack and hoping you get to him before he leaves is, unfortunately, the best tactic.’

‘So,’ Alice Vaughn said, ‘someone else has to die to catch him?’

‘Probably.’

‘I am so glad I don’t have your job.’

29th October.

‘Position nineteen. Nothing to report.’ Glory Hunter scanned the street and tried her best not to look too enticing. Despite the fact that she was dressed in a micro-skirt and a tube top which covered her nipples and little else, she did not really want too many people propositioning her. Turning a lot of people away would blow her cover.

It had come as no surprise when she had been selected for the street detail. An unfortunate period of late-teenage insecurity had resulted in a boob job she had not really needed and she looked more like a sex worker than the majority of her colleagues. She had pulled this kind of detail before, more than once, and did not really mind it, if she was honest. Standing on a street corner in October wearing enough cloth to comfortably dress a hamster was not exactly what she had in mind when she joined the force, but at least it was a relatively warm evening. Glory figured she had another year as a detective, and then she would make inspector and put dressing like a stripper behind her for good.

Checking down 5th Avenue, Glory considered her options and then continued down West 131st Street. It was all older housing in this area: residential space for people who, mostly, served the rich folks to the south in the MCD. Rich people still had a preference for live servants rather than using cyberframes. That was changing as developments in artificial skin and more powerful computers in smaller packages made androids more and more realistic. A decade or two and someone would probably come through and flatten the area, replacing it with arcologies or luxury apartment blocks, completing the erasure of the architecture of last century.

Musing on the pace of change and words like ‘gentrification,’ the undercover detective did not see the figure poised in the darkness of a narrow access which went through to the rear of the blocks on her right. She did not hear him as he stepped smartly out behind her, and it came as something of a surprise when she felt a hand close over her mouth, pulling her head back.

~~~

‘We’ve got an alarm.’

Olin turned to the tech operating one of the consoles in the operations room. ‘Who? Where?’

‘Position nineteen. Detective Hunter. Her biomonitor spiked and… Shit! She’s gone flatline!’

‘All units converge on position nineteen,’ Olin ordered. ‘Get an exact location and get eyes on that site. I’m going out there. I want reports from on-site in my head in thirty seconds!’

~~~

This one was easy to disrobe. His blades slit the plastic cloth easily and he tossed the shreds aside. She lay there on her back like a crumpled doll, eyes staring up at the night sky, blank and dead, and he mused for a second on the shape of her breasts. He had examined some with the same artificial quality in an earlier subject, discovering a synthetic material under the skin designed to enlarge and reshape, and he had marvelled at the never-ending drive humans seemed to have to change nature. He understood corsets and bustles, both of which performed a similar basic function: they altered the form God had provided to something mankind had deemed more attractive. Neither corsets nor bustles were seen regularly in this world, but still the search for perfection went on.

He knew what perfect was and he began the process of making this nameless whore as perfect as he could by cutting into her skin at the top of the costal arch. Blood welled around the incision as he cut down, through her navel, and continued to the pubis. He was about to make another incision when he heard the buzzing sound behind him.

His head snapped about, taking in the hovering device as it started down the alley toward him. He was observed, and by one of the police machines he had seen before. It would be a short time before more arrived along with armed officers. There was no time to complete his work, but he could mark it anyway. His blades clicked into his fingers and he pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket, dropping it between the subject’s breasts before he stood and ran.

~~~

Fox walked up to the cordon and watched as men, women, and various frames rushed in and out of the alley. She had no expectation of being invited onto the scene itself and no real desire to see another corpse, but when operations had reported a sudden rush of activity in the area, she had felt she needed to check on it.

The expression on Olin’s face when he saw her suggested that he had no intention of inviting her in. Rather the opposite. She watched with a flat expression on her face as he stormed over to the barrier.

‘What are you doing here?’ Olin snapped.

‘I was in the neighbourhood, at a club. Our operations people noticed all the traffic into this area. I figured I’d come over and offer any assistance I could give.’ It was true, even if she expected him to tell her where she could shove her assistance.

‘I told you–’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know. Who’d he get?’

Olin glared at her for a second. His fists clenched. ‘Detective Hunter. They couldn’t save her.’

‘I’m sorry. I know what it’s like, losing people under your command. Anyone get a view of him?’

‘Oh, we got some good images. Gave chase. He got into the old subway tunnels. There’s an entrance beside the old hospital site.’

Fox looked up and north: even with the building right in front of her, you could see the upper part of the Harlem spire which now occupied that site. ‘I thought all those old entrances were blocked off?’

‘He found a way in. He was seen going down. Had to have it prepared as an escape route.’

‘He used the storm drains over in Brooklyn. It makes sense. You’ll never find him down there. It’s a maze and sections of it are flooded.’

‘We’ll try anyway.’

Fox nodded. ‘I know. He’s killed a cop now. The offer’s still on the table. If I can help, call me.’

‘When Hell freezes over,’ Olin replied, turning away.

~~~

‘He killed a cop,’ Fox said. The atmosphere at Sheela Na Gig was hardly suitable for the conversation, but Naomi was down there doing her dominatrix thing and had asked. ‘I assume they had her dressed up and she got unlucky. I mean, what are the odds?’

‘Probably not high, unless they replaced every street girl with a cop,’ Naomi said. ‘And I don’t think they have that many cops.’

‘No. No, they don’t. One less now. Damn. And they’ll keep trying to trap him, but he’s aware of them now. Their chances have dropped significantly. It’s going to be luck, him getting sloppy, or information.’

‘Information?’

‘Yeah. Something which gives us where to look for him. I’m going to go interview Mortenson on Monday.’

‘Well then, good luck.’

30th October.

‘There was another note,’ Kit said.

Fox opened her eyes to see the hovering web of information in the murder room and turned to where Kit was standing. There was, indeed, another facsimile of a handwritten note hanging beside her, linked to an ID photo of Glory Hunter. ‘He’s getting almost verbose. What does this one say?’

‘“They do not call her Ginger, but I know her all the same.” Mary Kelly was called “Ginger,” which is where the assumption that she was a redhead comes from, though descriptions of her vary.’

‘And Hunter wasn’t a redhead. She’s blonde. Not even strawberry-blonde. That settles it: these notes aren’t about the victims.’

‘I would suggest they refer to a future victim, is that correct?’

‘That’s my take.’

‘There is no suggestion in the case file notes that Inspector Olin has come to that conclusion, but he may have simply neglected to write it down.’ Kit turned slightly, taking in the collection of data nodes around Silver Quade’s picture. ‘Interestingly, I found a connection between Miss Quade and Detective Hunter. Connections of any form between the victims have been rare, discounting the links between the Sisters who have been killed, but these two knew each other socially. It might be pure coincidence, however.’

‘Kit… What do we think of coincidences?’

Kit grinned, just a little because more might have seemed inappropriate. ‘We don’t like them. But I would point out that they do happen, frequently more commonly than people expect.’

‘I know. I still don’t like them.’

Boston Metro, 1st November.

Mortenson was looking like a man who had spent a number of days in a NAPA holding cell: tired, somewhat dishevelled, and the spark of superiority was almost gone from his eyes. He sat on the subject’s chair in an interview room in the primary Boston police building; he was quiet, subdued, looking down at the metal table until Fox walked in.

‘You don’t have your sidekick with you,’ Mortenson said, trying to rally some defiance.

Fox sat down opposite him and smiled. ‘I don’t need Teresa for this. She was with me to translate geeky asshole into English. We’re going to be talking about a serial killer and his sidekick, uh, that’s you, and I understand murder fine.’

‘I’m not–’

‘Sure you are. You’re thinking because you created him you were the dominant partner in the relationship? No chance. He’s had you under his thumb since before he manipulated you into setting him free.’

‘I didn’t set him free. He escaped.’

Fox sighed. ‘See… that’s been bothering me. The detectives up here were kind enough to send over your interview transcripts, so I know the story. You made a mistake. You networked the servers, hooked them into your office and then your home so that you could monitor them more easily. Ripper found a way to bypass security and escape onto the internet.’

‘That’s correct.’

‘Doesn’t wash. Even if, as you say, he somehow figured out he was something other than a human, that he was in a simulated world, he wouldn’t have the skills necessary to bypass network security. You set him up in a Victorian environment. No computers. How does he figure out how to get out?’

‘He… I don’t–’

‘How does he figure out how to find and take possession of an android body? How does he know he’s supposed to recharge it rather than eating? He doesn’t know what a cyberframe is. He’s got the mindset of a nineteenth-century psychopath dumped into the twenty-first century.’

‘His mind works very quickly. He could–’

‘And then there’s the selection of victims. He starts out with street girls, much like the original killer. They’re easy marks. A little observation and he can be pretty sure that they’re sex workers and not just women in skimpy outfits. Then he kills one of the Sisters of Corruption. Georgina Parton, a Senior Sister on her way from one client to another. Not an obvious target. Suddenly he’s got a mission beyond the basic one. Suddenly he’s working on sneaking into the chapter house. What was it? Naomi wouldn’t take you as a client when she was in Boston?’

‘Are you implying that I deliberately–’ The outrage almost looked genuine, with just that hint of terror lurking in the back of it to spoil things.

‘I’m saying that you let yourself be seduced by an AI who got you to let him out of his box. Then he blackmailed you, knowing you’d be locked up and tossed out of the university if anyone found out. You helped him adjust. You helped him with the security systems he needed to bypass to get to Carpenter, Iverson, and Nimer, and to find and use his new body. And then you worked out a way to target him at a group of women you don’t like. Since we locked you up, he’s gone back to picking women off the street.’

Mortenson glared at Fox, but she had learned to intimidate people in the Army and he was just an academic with a superiority complex. He looked away. ‘I refuse to say anything else without my lawyer present.’

‘Fine. Generalities then. What’s his obsession with Mary Jane Kelly?’

It seemed like there would be no answer and Fox considered prompting him, but he spoke eventually. ‘He had a fascination with the lore surrounding the original Jack. He described Kelly as the finest example of the transformations he conducted.’

‘Transformations?’

‘That’s what he called them. Transformations to perfection. A woman is only perfect when she’s dead and of no use to any man. He developed the philosophy on his own. This was not part of his initial programming. Apparently he needed to justify the implanted hatred of women, prostitutes in particular. He told me, “Prostitutes are the most imperfect of women, giving themselves to any man with the coin for it. It is my duty to cleanse them, to transform them into something perfect.”’

‘Was that when you realised you had an emergent on your hands?’

Mortenson looked at her. ‘Yes. That was the final indication. You said you needed Doctor Martins to “translate” for you, but you seem to know more about the subject than a typical layman.’

‘My PA is a class four. I’ve had her almost since her initialisation and I’ve watched her develop. She was never designed as the PA of a detective and she’s had to learn to cope with the nastier side of the job. And she’s done exceptionally well at it. And I’ve encountered what was probably an emergent AI before. That one was brainwashing people to kill for it. There’s a damn good reason why the mistakes you made should see you locked in a box for decades. Uncontrolled AIs can be exceptionally dangerous.’

‘More dangerous than unconstrained humans? I’m sure that you’ve encountered many more human killers than electronic ones.’

Fox nodded, conceding the point. ‘You’re right. Humans can be just as deadly. But we try to catch people with tendencies like that early. You took something you designed to be lethal and then you facilitated its release. You had to know what Ripper would do when he got free. You might as well have killed his victims yourself, Mortenson.’

He was not looking at her again. ‘Doctor Mortenson,’ he mumbled.

‘You don’t deserve that title. To most people, a doctor is someone who heals. You are a sociopath and a weakling, and you don’t deserve that title.’ Fox got to her feet. ‘Thank you for your time. I’d imagine that the lead on your case will be talking to you once your lawyer gets here. I hope they get you life.’

~~~

‘Thank you, Fox,’ Kit said once they were in an autocab heading for the MarTech tower and their transport back to New York.

‘What for?’

‘Believing in me, I suppose. You told Mister Mortenson that you thought I had developed well.’

‘You have. You’ve faced things some humans would be fazed by and I’ve not noticed any strange tendencies. You even have a social life outside of your relationship with me.’

‘I suppose I do. I should thank you for allowing that too. Not every owner would allow it.’

‘Huh. Point is, without you as an example, and Terri’s explanation of how the process should work, I guess, I’d be pretty heavily AI-phobic at this point. Terri’s right about getting you on talk shows. You’d be a good ambassador for class fours.’

‘That scares me more than infomorph serial killers!’

Fox grinned. ‘You will be great at it. It’s not like you’d be alone. Terri’s bound to be up there with you.’

‘And you. She’s certain to want you there as my owner and an advocate of my class.’

‘You’re right, it’s a terrible idea.’

Niflhel, 3rd November.

‘It seems ages since you’ve been here. It’s nice to see you again.’ Cleopatra, the regal, if mostly naked, ruler of Alexandria, was busy doing what she did best: lounging.

‘Been too busy,’ Fox replied, taking one of the other loungers. ‘Up to my ears in contract documents, and… You’re aware of the recent Ripper murders?’

‘Of course.’

‘I was contracted by the Sisters of Corruption to look into those and it’s turned out to be… complicated.’

‘Is anything you do simple?’

Fox grinned. ‘A couple of things. This. It’s Kit’s birthday, so I brought her in here for some rest and relaxation. We have relaxed. Energetically.’

Cleopatra laughed. ‘I see. Is she still here?’

‘She’s visiting Vali. I think she has plans.’

‘Oh really? Well, I suppose she is a whole twelve months old today.’

~~~

Kit skipped up the path to Vali’s homestead trying very hard to look carefree. She thought she might be pulling it off, but she was nervous as Hell. Fox had successfully fought off the nervousness for her in Alexandria, but it had mounted a sneaky flanking manoeuvre as soon as Kit had walked out of Fox’s little apartment.

‘Happy birthday,’ Vali said as Kit walked in through the kitchen door.

‘Thank you,’ Kit replied, smiling.

Vali’s brow creased. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘No, absolutely nothing. I have had a very pleasant hour or so in Alexandria, and now I am here. What could be wrong?’ Vali gave a shrug and turned, moving to the table where he kept the mead. ‘Well, Miss Martins wants me to do chat shows to promote AIs as wonderful people.’ His back was turned: now was the time!

‘And you’re nervous about that? I think you’ll do wonderfully well. You have a good command of the language, a certain charisma, and you are, obviously, very pretty.’ He turned, holding two cups of mead… and almost dropped both of them. ‘Oh!’

Kit stood beside the table. Her tunic was on the back of the nearest chair. Her tail was flicking rapidly back and forth behind her back and her arms were held straight down at her sides. She was almost vibrating with tension. ‘Surprise!’ she said, giving him a terribly nervous smile.

‘I… am… genuinely speechless.’

‘I was hoping more for actions…’

‘I am genuinely actionless.’

Kit’s lips pressed together and her hands started to creep up to cover herself. ‘You don’t want to–’

‘No! I mean, yes! I mean… I just wasn’t expecting… I thought you were still a little angry with me.’

‘What? Oh, I forgave you weeks ago. I thought you might have noticed.’ She watched an eyebrow rise. ‘Zorra said you wouldn’t.’ She stepped closer and took one of the cups from his nerveless fingers. Then she gulped down some of the contents and almost immediately felt her skin begin to tingle as the code introduced slight interference in her inputs.

Apparently reminded of the synthetic alcohol, Vali took a gulp from his own cup, shuddered, and then reached out a hand to rest on Kit’s shoulder. She let out a little gasp. ‘Is my hand cold?’ he asked.

‘No. I… I would very much like you to do more than touch my shoulder, nice as it feels.’ His hand drifted down, trailing his fingers over her breast. ‘Y-yes… Like that.’

‘You know, the beds in this place are authentic. And a little on the rough side.’

Kit giggled. ‘I don’t care if we do it on the floor, or the grass outside, so long as we do it.’ His thumb was stroking back and forth over her left nipple, which was stiffening rapidly, and driving her mildly insane, or as insane as her base code would allow.

‘Come on, then. We’ll try the bed.’ He turned from her and led the way through a door at the back of the room and then up some rough stairs to what would have been the attic in a normal house. Here there was a small space containing a low bed, more or less a frame containing a straw-stuffed cloth mattress. ‘Um,’ Vali said, frowning, ‘I know I’m really messing with the romance here, but… what about your tail.’

‘Oh, well… My research into human sexual behaviour indicated several solutions. The one I’d like to try requires a little more limberness than some, but it is supposed to be quite satisfying.’ She emptied her mead cup, set it on the floor at the foot of the bed, and then crawled onto the mattress. Pausing on hands and knees, she looked over her shoulder. ‘Of course, this is one option, but I feel it lacks the intimacy of some positions.’

‘Uh, yes.’ Vali gulped down the rest of his mead and blinked at her.

‘Whatever we do, it would be easier if you undressed.’

‘Ha! Yes, I suppose it… Are you making fun of me?’

Kit giggled. ‘Only a little. Zorra says that if you are not having fun during sex, you should probably not be doing it.’ Settling onto her right side, Kit propped herself up on an elbow and watched as Vali struggled out of his clothes. He was, she noted with some relief, definitely interested in the proceedings.

‘Okay,’ Vali said, ‘now what did you have in mind?’

Kit stretched her right leg straight down, and then calmly and elegantly raised the left one straight upward. ‘You come here and kneel across my leg. My other leg goes on your shoulder. Then you just need to, um, get yourself in position…’

Showing more eagerness now, Vali straddled Kit’s thigh, looping one hand around her raised leg and edging forward. ‘That’s it,’ Kit said. ‘Now just… Mmm… Yes, that’s it. And now you should just be able toooooo!’

‘Is it all right?! I’m not hurting–’

Kit’s sensory input feeds settled and her eyes uncrossed. ‘It’s okay. I mean, it’s better than okay, it’s… It’s not like when Zorra uses her fingers, it’s more… more. I am going to be hours analysing my reactions to this.’

‘Me too.’

‘Sorry?’

‘I mean that… You know I run this place and a lot of this kind of thing happens here… Not here, but in Niflhel as a whole, but I’ve never actually… indulged.’

‘I’m your first?’

‘Yes. No one else has ever… intrigued me as much as you do.’

‘Well, you’re my first. Man. I’ve been with Zorra. Though, I think you should try some moving. This is very nice, but I think there should be some– Oh! Oooo! Ooohhhooooo… Yes. Keep doing… mmm… that.’

New York Metro.

Fox opened her eyes, sighed, and set down the induction loop cable she had used to connect into Niflhel. Kit was standing beside the sofa looking interested. ‘I’m going to say that your copy is still in there with Vali, right?’ Fox said.

‘Yes,’ Kit replied. ‘I must admit to being quite curious regarding the data we will synchronise on her return.’

‘I’m also right in thinking that she’s in there doing bedroom gymnastics with Vali, yes?’

Kit’s cheeks coloured. ‘That was the intention.’

‘She left to go see him about fifty minutes ago, so she’s either got him out of his britches or they’re having a really long discussion about your relationship.’

‘Oh, I really hope it’s the first option. I’ve never… you know?’

‘Been banged silly?’

‘I think you’ve managed that. I mean, with a male. I’ve never been with a man and it’s… It arouses my curiosity.’

‘Well, let’s hope that’s not all that’s aroused. I’m going to go back to contract documents. If your copy’s not back in an hour, I’ll go in with an assault team.’

‘I hope that isn’t necessary.’

Fox gave Kit a smirk. ‘I kind of hope it is. For your sake.’

4th November.

‘I am going to be hours analysing my reactions to this.’

‘Me too.’

‘Sorry?’

‘I mean that…’

Kit paused the replay of her memory once again and looked at the face of the man, or avatar anyway, who had been on the brink of giving her a couple of hours of quite exquisite sensation. As she had predicted, upon returning from Niflhel and synchronising with her other copies, she had been tasked with a thorough analysis of what had happened. So she was running on one of her server’s quantum processors and doing just that. She imagined it would seem a little clinical to a human, but Kit was learning: she was taking experience and turning it into knowledge which could only result in a more exciting experience in the future.

And she thought her analysis was highly likely to bear fruit in that regard, but she found herself coming back to that same, short exchange over and over again. Indeed, the others, now aware of her memories of a pleasurable afternoon in Vali’s homestead, had both requested that she run a deeper analysis of that moment.

It was not simply that moment. Kit knew that some element of suspicion had been forming for months, though it had been brought into sharp relief by that one remark, made in a moment of excitement. He had said, ‘Me too.’

Humans did go over their actions and analyse them, Kit assumed. Fox did. She would replay her memory of events in an effort to detect things she could have done better, or to spot remarks made during an interrogation which might give more insight, or just to relive the experience. Kit had indulged herself with a few minutes of full-sensory replay when she began her analysis: not all of it, but enough to remind her of the feel of the thing before she took it apart.

But Kit was fairly sure that humans did not think of what they were doing as an analysis process. Learning from their mistakes, reliving the moment, reviewing, re-watching… But analysing? She had provided the phrase and he had responded, so it was not clear-cut, but taken with the other evidence…

Kit decided on her course of action and compiled her final analysis report. The conclusion of the sub-analysis concerning Vali’s comment was a simple one, if rather inexact: ‘I believe that there is a significant probability that Vali is an infomorph.’

5th November.

Fox was lying in her lover’s arms, warm, comfortable, and satisfied, but her attention was not wholly in the room with him. Sam and Marie had gone out to Sheela Na Gig, but Fox had persuaded Jason, with little effort, to stay in for the evening. Yet another day of contract reading had brought on a headache which was not severe, but it was persistent. Jason had been gentle with her, but also persistent, and the headache was a memory, and she was taking the weekend off no matter how much it meant she needed to play catch-up on Monday…

But NAPA were running another sting op and, now that the lovemaking was over for the immediate future, Fox was monitoring what Palladium’s operations room was managing to pick up. She was not expecting a repeat of the previous week. She was not expecting anyone to even catch sight of anyone who might be the killer. She checked in anyway and watched the ops room’s assessment of NAPA surveillance frames as they ran their patrols until she thought the time was right.

‘How about we go grab a drink?’ Fox said, her voice low to match the lowered lighting. ‘I think we should take a break prior to round two, which I expect to be crazed and kinky.’

Jason chuckled. Fox felt his breath against her neck and almost reconsidered the break. ‘I take it from that that your headache has gone?’

‘You’re a miracle cure.’ Fox slipped out of his arms and off the bed, and padded out to the lounge without bothering to dress. She figured the kinky could start on the sofa.

When Jason followed her, he had put on a pair of briefs. This was not just an aesthetic choice, he had told her, because a naked woman was a thing of beauty, and a naked man was an accident waiting to happen: something was bound to get twisted, crushed, mangled, or attacked by a cat.

‘Wine?’ Fox asked. There was a bottle open and waiting on the table, the grapes grown and the drink bottled in the West Canadian Union.

‘That would be nice. A Canadian vineyard. Most people do not believe me when I say wine was produced in the country before the climate shifts.’

Fox grinned at him. ‘Thirty-first wine-producing nation in the world as of the second decade. I looked it up. I’d serve French, but I can’t afford it. Had it once. Jackson broke out a bottle when I moved to New York. Don’t want to think what it cost and I couldn’t tell the difference anyway.’

Jason took an offered glass and settled onto the sofa. ‘Expense is not a guarantee of quality, but of rarity. Most of the old vineyards are barren wastes now. I’ve never had French wine, so you are one up on me.’

Fox sat beside him, leaning herself against him. ‘I’m going to say that you aren’t missing much, but I don’t exactly have an educated palate. It was nice enough, but–’

Belle’s sudden appearance brought Fox to a stop. There was no way the house’s supervisory AI would interrupt them unless she thought it was important. ‘Fox, I am sorry to intrude…’

‘I know you wouldn’t without good reason,’ Fox replied. ‘What’s up?’ Nothing had come through from ops, but Belle was wearing her serious face.

‘IB-Nineteen is broadcasting a newsflash. They have received an email, apparently from the “Ripper” killer.’

Jason spoke up before Fox could. ‘I think we should see this. You will not relax again, Fox, unless you do.’

He was right, of course, a fact which unaccountably pleased her. ‘Run the clip, Belle.’

An image appeared in the air beside Belle’s avatar. A presenter was facing camera while a scrolling banner rolled past below him. ‘IB-Nineteen received this message from an untraceable source nineteen minutes ago. NAPA were contacted immediately, but have provided no comment at this time. IB-Nineteen stands ready to assist the police as and when required.’ Fox decided she hated the presenter already, though he was only reading a script. ‘The message purports to come from someone calling himself “Ripper,” and contains only the following cryptic text: “Though she uses the name she chose in France, I know her. None shall bar me from my greatest transformation. She will be made perfect.”’

Fox frowned. ‘The name she chose in France? Mute it, Belle.’ The sound cut off, though the text of the message continued to scroll past below the presenter.

‘Who is “she?”’ Jason asked.

‘Uh, he has an obsession with the original Jack’s last canonical victim, Mary Jane Kelly. He considered it the greatest of the murders, the most perfect. I think he’s selected someone to take her place, and I think he’s going to kill her on the eighth or ninth of this month, the anniversary of the original crime.’

Jason raised an eyebrow. ‘Marie,’ he said. ‘The French form of Mary is Marie.’

Kit appeared on the opposite side of the video display from Belle, looking concerned. ‘Miss Kelly was reported to have spent two weeks in France in eighteen eighty-four,’ Kit said. ‘She was invited there by a client, but was not happy with her life there and returned. However, she adopted the name “Marie Jeanette” at that time.’

‘And Marie played Kelly in the vid,’ Fox said, ‘and she’s been splattered all over the channel in adverts for the series. Shit. Kit, contact Sam for me. Mark it private, give him the data. Tell him it’s unlikely to go down tonight, but he should be careful.’

‘Should we join them?’ Jason asked.

Fox shook her head. ‘It’s not going to happen tonight and Sam’s a capable man. He’s almost certainly armed too.’

‘Sam is carrying a small, semi-automatic pistol,’ Belle confirmed.

‘And he has confirmed receipt of the information,’ Kit added. ‘He says he will tell Marie about it in the morning. She will be with him tonight anyway.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ Fox said. ‘Okay, you two can clear off. Nothing’s going to happen at all until Sam and Marie leave the club, and I still want my crazed and kinky.’

‘If you think it’s safe enough,’ Jason said, ‘I would not deny you.’

‘I do.’ Fox pursed her lips. ‘But just in case… Kit, get ops to put the RRU on the roof on alert. I want it ready to support Sam if it even looks like I’m wrong about this.’

6th November.

‘Oh,’ Marie said. ‘Well, that explains why I heard engines overhead all the way home last night.’

‘You seem to be taking this very calmly,’ Jason commented. They were all in Sam’s lounge having breakfast: it had seemed the right way to brief Marie.

‘Not the first time some nut has wanted to kill me.’

‘Yeah, well, last time was probably my fault,’ Fox said. ‘Grant was looking for a target close to me, and you fitted. This time it’s all down to you. This is what fame and fortune gets you.’

‘I’m not so sure about the fortune part, but okay. Still, I’ve got the best bodyguard I could hope for, and the best detective trying to catch him. And if you had an RRU following us home last night, I’ve got something that’ll turn him into scrap in about a second watching over me. Am I under house arrest again?’

Fox looked at Sam, biting at her lip as she considered. She took a drink of coffee and then said, ‘Here’s how I see it. He won’t try during the day. He’d really like to get you alone, in your apartment if he can. Mary Kelly was murdered in her lodgings. But his chances of breaking into this place are up there with aliens landing on the White House lawn. I’m almost certain he’s going to try on the night of the eighth. If we could make him think he has an opportunity then, we could turn the tables on him.’

‘You want to use her as bait?’ Sam asked. His voice betrayed little, but Fox figured he was not pleased with the idea.

‘I’m saying that she should be safe with her normal routine through to Monday night. And on Monday night we set something up so that Ripper thinks he’s got an opportunity to take her. Yes, she’ll be bait, but I think we can handle this in a way that means she’s not the one at risk.’

Sam nodded. ‘I may not like it, but she’s in danger anyway. If we can control the situation, that would be better. You had better explain your plan.’

‘At the moment, it’s not so much a plan as an idea, but we’ve got the whole weekend to work out how to implement it.’

8th November.

Nathan Shark, tall and blonde and smiling like a man who saw his fortune stretching out ahead of him, escorted Marie to the doors of Time Spire. It was late, almost seven thirty, but the lobby was bustling with people heading for the mall.

‘You’re okay getting home?’ Shark asked. ‘I can get you a cab here in a couple of minutes.’

Marie grinned and waved the option away. ‘It’s fifteen minutes’ walk. Twenty tops. And I’m not famous enough yet to get mobbed on the street.’

‘Give it a couple of months. Stay safe.’

Marie nodded. ‘Oh, I will.’ And she set off to the slideway which would take her down to ground level. She would head up Broadway to 42nd Street, probably turn up 8th Avenue, because that would take her past some of the few theatres which still existed. Down West 46th Street and she was basically home. It was all pretty convenient, really. It would be a shame if fame did stop her from walking to work.

She pulled her coat closer around herself as she walked. The weather had shifted in the last day or so: cold winds from the north bringing cloudy skies. The temperature had dropped and Belle’s forecast called for rain during the night. So Marie hunkered down in her coat and stretched her legs. Being inside would actually be really quite nice just now.

~~~

Following her was easy enough: she had a preference for bright colours, it seemed, and her short, lemon coat was visible at some considerable distance. He was glad of that, because she also had long legs and he wished to appear casual as he followed her through this benighted city. He had to hurry as she crossed at the corner of 42nd and 8th, briefly losing sight of her before picking up that coat again as she walked into the theatre district.

Somehow, he was going to have to get to her tonight. In her home would be preferable, where he could take his time over her transformation. The security on her lodgings was, however, formidable and he had found no way to breach it. He might have to settle for an outdoor venue and hope that he had the time to perfect her.

Not here, however. There were far too many people here. It was not dark either: the street lights and signs saw to that. The world he had come from had shadows and darkness, but this place seemed to be alight and alive twenty-four hours a day. There was always something happening somewhere in this city which never seemed to sleep, never seemed to rest, but he knew that there would be fewer people out on the streets around her house. It was quieter there and he would have more chances to take her.

She turned the corner ahead and he lost sight of her. A flash of worry took him by surprise and he rushed to the corner, looking around quickly in case she had gone into one of the buildings. But no, he saw the bright, yellow coat and followed it. She actually seemed to be moving faster now: undoubtedly the thought of being inside and warm was quickening her pace. He stretched his legs and tried to keep up, but she was pulling ahead until she stopped to look in through a shop window. He caught a quick glimpse of dark, red hair as he closed the distance a little, careful not to get too close. And then she was off again.

He was not going to be able to catch her on the street, not at the pace she was going. If he ran after her, she might well hear him and she was pulling ahead again. He ran through his options and came to a conclusion: he had one chance, but he estimated that it was a good chance and it would put him inside her home. He had to make it happen.

He watched as she stepped up to the door, closing as fast as he could while appearing casual. There was a second or two of pause, which allowed him to get closer than he had hoped, and then she was opening the door and stepping inside. He began to run, and almost threw himself down the steps as the door began to close. He shoulder-barged it, smashing it back open, and he was in. There, to his right, was Marie Jeannette in her yellow coat. She was turning in surprise. He righted himself, kicked the door shut, and his blades popped out as his arm swung right at her throat.

But the razor talons scraped over her skin as though it was armoured. She stumbled backward, through the porch door and into the lounge, and he saw her face. The wrong face!

~~~

Fox had been intending to leave the door unlocked and wait for him, and the sudden impact behind her had been a surprise. She had not expected him to try anything that stupid to get in and was not ready for him. The immediate strike for the throat she had expected, and at least the knife-proof collar had worked, but now she was trying to gain distance and get her pistol free of her coat before he could get another swing in.

Not easy. Claws swung and she dodged backward. The first swing skated past her, but the second bit into her stomach. The stupid coat, a duplicate of Marie’s, took some of the bite out of it, but she still felt hot pain as the blades cut her skin. It was like he smelled the blood, and maybe he did given that his olfactory system was supposed to be enhanced. She saw his eyes widen and his lips curl into a predatory smile, and she got her pistol free and fired three rounds at almost point-blank range.

The first round hit his stomach and pancaked, gluing itself to his shirt where the radio jammer would soon kick in and block communications through most of the house. The other rounds were solid-core antipersonnel rounds and they punched through into his torso. Damaged, he reeled back, but he was still very much on his feet and moving. And Fox did not really want to have to use the next round in the magazine because it was probably going to hurt.

‘I can blow you in half now, or you can surrender!’ Fox yelled, and she knew before he reacted what he was going to do.

She had managed to get a couple of metres between them and he pressed forward, hands swinging up to claw at her face, and she fired. She felt the heat on her face, felt shrapnel hit her coat and bite into her hand, and saw the jet of flame blast out through his back. She stepped back and his flailing arms never came close, but the damn thing was still moving!

It staggered. She heard motors whining as he struggled to press the attack. ‘Damn it!’ Fox snapped, and she stepped back, bringing her gun up, bracing it, and firing. Three rounds, solid-core, straight into the key electronics she knew from the specs Kit had found for her were right there in the chest cavity. There was a sound like someone screaming through a distortion filter, though the android’s lips did not move, and then it fell to its knees, then its face.

‘Think it’s dead?’ Fox asked silently.

‘With the jammer in effect, it’s difficult to tell,’ Kit replied. ‘The damage looked extensive, but it may still be partially functional. You did not aim for its primary computer.’

Fox popped the empty magazine from her pistol, pulled a replacement from her pocket, and snapped it into the well. ‘I can rectify that. What do you think?’

‘I think that the law does not have mechanisms for handling homicidal AIs. I think that the dangers of studying this monster outweigh the potential benefits. I think that, if it can recover its senses, when the jammer cuts out, it might attempt to escape back onto the internet.’

‘I think that those are all very good points.’ And Fox emptied her second magazine into the android’s skull.

~~~

When Sam and Marie burst in through the little apartment’s lounge door, Fox was sitting on the sofa in her bra and panties, taping over the four cuts on her stomach. The wig and dress she had been wearing were strewn on the floor at her feet. She looked quite calm about it, but Marie let out a sort of sobbing gasp at the sight.

‘You’re injured!’ Marie squeaked.

‘Just scratches,’ Fox replied.

‘Your hand’s covered in blood!’

Fox grinned. ‘That’s actually the lesser of the insults. Fingers bleed a lot. He got me pretty good on the stomach, but it’ll heal. The hand was shrapnel. And he’s a lot worse off than I am.’

Sam, still holding his own pistol, kicked at the shattered android on the floor. ‘I see that, but you’ll go over to MarTech and have those wounds treated properly.’

‘Yeah, promise. Don’t want scars here. I have too many bikinis.’

‘It’s over though?’ Marie asked. ‘He’s dead?’

Fox looked over at the android which had been Ripper, murderer of far too many women. ‘He’s scrap,’ she said, and then she picked up a sterile wipe to clean her hand.

Part Five: Spin

New York Metro, 9th November 2060.

‘You have no right to mount an operation like this.’ Olin was pissed off and not really bothering to hide it. It was, Fox thought, making him sloppy, and Robbard, who was also in the interview room, was just as annoyed, which was just making Olin worse.

‘I have no right to defend myself in my own home?’ Fox asked. ‘I think someone should have notified the general populace of that change in the law.’

‘You baited the killer and–’

‘I determined that it was likely that the Ripper AI would attack Marie Shaftsbury yesterday night. I did not stop her from attending a meeting at IB-Nineteen, but I ensured that she was under surveillance following her departure from Time Spire. When it was determined that she was being followed by someone matching the description of a Kildare-series android, I took Marie’s place and allowed Ripper to attack me instead of Miss Shaftsbury. I didn’t need to bait him; he was already planning the hit.’

‘And you didn’t inform NAPA of your… determinations because?’

‘You, very specifically, told me you were not interested in my help, Inspector.’

Olin’s eyes flashed. ‘You had information–’

‘I had the exact same information as you. I got information from Mortenson regarding Ripper’s obsession with Mary Jane Kelly, but that was recorded by NAPA in Boston and relayed to you as an interested party. I know it was, because I checked with Boston while I was there. You requested and received all of the interview material from him. You saw the messages Ripper left before I did. I’ll give you a pass on not making the connection in time only because I’m closer to Marie and maybe made the leap to assuming she was the target sooner, but the vid she was in got a lot of attention and IB-Nineteen have been running blips for the series practically every hour since they announced it. You had plenty of time to work this one out without me helping you. Which, I’ll say again, you specifically told me not to do.’

‘You destroyed the cyberframe.’

‘Sure did.’

‘We needed the computer and software to confirm that the android was not being operated by remote,’ Robbard said.

Fox looked at him. ‘Okay, first of all, I’ll be putting in a specific complaint following this interview regarding the participation of an IA detective in these proceedings.’ Fox watched Robbard’s jaw tighten and did her best to keep a smirk from forming. ‘Secondly… You do know how telepresence remote software works, don’t you?’

‘I’m fully aware of how an android is controlled through VR, Miss Meridian?’

‘Yeah, apparently not since you think it would operate through a broad-spectrum jammer.’ Fox waited a beat to see if he had a comeback on that, but he just ground his teeth. ‘I’m sure a number of people wanted to get their hands on that software, but nothing good could come out of analysing it, or using it. Legally, it should have been destroyed by Mortenson as soon as he realised it was exceeding its parameters.’

‘All right,’ Robbard said. ‘I’m here to discuss the leak of information regarding the case. Namely, that a rogue, emergent AI is responsible for the deaths.’

‘And you want to hang that on me?’

‘I want to hear your explanation for the information becoming public knowledge.’

‘Well, out of a spirit of cooperation, I am going to tell you how it got out. You still have no right to be asking me that question. Given that MarTech Technologies produces a number of AIs, they are obviously very interested in the fallout from this. Their memetics department is been working on it like beavers. The first rumours started in Boston on a couple of conspiracy sites. The charges made against Mortenson are on public record. To wit, negligence leading to the release of an illegal and unconstrained AI onto public networks. Someone linked that to the Criminal Minds project and posted a suggestion that Mortenson had allowed an AI patterned after a serial killer to escape. Discussion was fairly rapid after that. Someone suggested NIX had arranged for the release deliberately, but someone always suggests NIX is involved. It’s a law of the internet or something. Like the one about arguments devolving to the point where someone’s compared to Adolf Hitler.’

Fox glanced at Olin as he gave out a snort which actually sounded like he got the joke. Fox had been fairly certain he had no sense of humour, and Robbard seemed to have had his surgically removed from the look on his face. ‘Anyway, someone linked in the Ripper-style murders in New York and consensus shifted to the idea that a “Jack the Ripper” AI had escaped and was killing prostitutes. Small jump to the idea that it had to have taken over an android body to do that. NAPA actually confirmed the rumour when it announced that I’d destroyed a cyberframe, and that was when the mainstream media picked up on the conspiracy theories and ran with it.’

Fox gave them both a smile. ‘I can get you the memetic connection tree if you like. There’s no leak on this one. It’s all down to people making deductions based on information anyone could have got their hands on, and having way too much time on their hands to think about this stuff. Hell, why would I want to leak any of this? I’m going to have to go on bloody chat shows trying to spin it so that it doesn’t tar the entire AI industry with the same brush.’

12th November.

Fox settled onto the middle of three seats, straightened her skirt, and tried her best to look confident and at ease. She felt like she was facing a firing squad, even if firing squads normally had more than two people in them.

‘You come highly recommended, Tara,’ Elaine Resnik said.

‘Yes,’ Fox said. ‘I was watching when Marie said you should interview me. I think she still has the bruises.’

Charlie Iberson raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ve faced off against terrorists, psychos, and now, from all accounts, killer androids, and you’re worried about little old us?’

Fox’s lips twitched. ‘Well, they wouldn’t let me bring a gun on stage.’

‘It’s for your own protection,’ Resnik said. ‘Charlie’s bulletproof and they just make her annoyed. However, she did mention killer androids and, much as I really want to get into your career in the Army and law enforcement, it’s this rather worrying development in artificial intelligence that brings you here.’

‘And some people are going to say that that’s a little outside your normal topics of conversation.’

‘Yeah, we had to pull a few strings with the channel to persuade them to let us have this, but the recent murders are all about women, a woman took down the killer, and we have two other special guests tonight who are both women. We think we have it covered.’

Iberson looked out at the cameras covering them, addressing the audience. ‘You got that, ladies? This is an important deal for the better half of the population.’

‘I think it’s important for all of the population,’ Fox said. ‘So I hope there are some girls out there making their boyfriends watch, but I’m going to be turning up on one or two other shows talking about this as well, just in case all the men are scared of you, Charlie.’

‘Okay,’ Resnik said, ‘now that we’ve established Charlie’s credentials… Killer AIs. Are we all going to be killed in our sleep by psychotic androids?’

‘No,’ Fox said flatly.

‘Short,’ Iberson said, ‘to the point, and you sound very sure of your answer.’

‘Well, I am. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from working through the Ripper case, it’s that, while it’s not impossible for an AI to kill, or even become homicidal, it simply shouldn’t happen. There are a lot of safeguards in place to stop it. AIs are hardcoded to be honest, as in they follow the legal system without question, and they have code in place to stop them developing a lot of the mental problems that drive humans to kill.’

‘And that seems to have worked out really well.’

‘Because a human did something illegal and stupid. Technology can be a wonderful thing, but it’s basically a tool.’ Fox paused and looked thoughtful for a second. ‘Most technology is a tool, but we’ll get to that later. Tools are only as good as the people who use them, and only as evil too. You can kill someone with a screwdriver, and you can do something to make an AI into a killer if you’re stupid enough to give it the right conditions.’

‘You’re saying an android, any cyberframe, couldn’t ever kill someone on purpose?’ Resnik asked.

‘No, I’m not. But it’s less likely than a human committing murder. An AI, even a class four, would weigh the situation heavily in favour of the law. You would have to push it pretty hard to make it snap, and then it would be highly likely to hand itself over to NAPA at the first opportunity. Think of it like this. Um, survival instinct is pretty ingrained into humans, but people do commit suicide. It takes extreme circumstances, but they do it. AIs have a survival instinct, but to them the law is almost as strong a driver. They won’t do anything illegal without something which overrides that instinct.’

‘Well, you brought up the legalities and controls, so let’s meet one of the women who enforces those rules. Ladies, Teresa Martins.’ Terri walked on stage looking a lot more confident than Fox thought she had managed. Of course, Terri did more publicity work… And Resnik spotted the ease of their new guest. ‘Well, Teresa, you look more comfortable in Charlie’s presence than Tara did.’

Terri took her seat and grinned. ‘Oh, Charlie’s a pussycat and I happen to know we share a preference.’

‘We do?’ Iberson asked.

‘Oriental girls. I’ve seen you in the gossip columns with Nishi Sakura.’

To Fox’s total amazement, Iberson actually blushed. ‘Oh, well… Elaine, rescue me here.’

Resnik was smirking. ‘Charlie’s sensitive about the love of her life’ – Iberson made strangling noises – ‘so we’ll just move on and ask you if you think AIs can be dangerous, Teresa? Should we be worrying about them being in our homes?’

‘Okay,’ Terri said and then paused. ‘Yes, they can be dangerous. No, you shouldn’t worry about them.’

‘That’s… equivocal.’

‘Not really. As you’ve heard, there are strict procedures to follow during the production of a new AI. The testing each new model has to undergo is rigorous, and anything which fails those tests is scrapped. We can’t reuse any code from a failed AI. No one should ever have something in their home, or office, or… car, which hasn’t been through testing. An AI is safer to be around than a typical human. But that doesn’t mean someone couldn’t make an AI which contravened the rules, and it doesn’t mean that an AI couldn’t find itself in circumstances where it had no choice but to react violently. We can, and do, train them for military and police actions. There have been a few, a very few, cases where an AI will attack a human it sees attacking someone else.’

‘But you don’t, generally, work on military models?’

‘No, I usually handle civil AIs. I’m not ideologically opposed or anything, but I’m a psychologist, human and synthetic, and I’m good at making AIs which are good at dealing with people.’

‘Like the one we’re going to meet tonight.’

Terri grinned. ‘Yes, but I’m going to let Tara introduce her, because Kit belongs to Tara.’

Resnik smiled and looked out at her virtual audience. ‘Yes, you heard it right, ladies. And believe me, we had to beat the technical department with sticks to get them to put this together.’

‘Most of them enjoyed that part,’ Iberson commented.

‘I think they did. You may have been wondering why there’s a server at the back of the stage since we don’t usually showcase computer equipment. Tonight, that grey box is playing host to Tara Meridian’s personal assistant, who is a class four AI. Tara, would you do the honours?’

‘Certainly,’ Fox said, turning in her seat to look back at the grey column. ‘Show time, Kit. Out you come.’ There was a virtual puff of smoke that left Kit in its wake, dressed in her pencil skirt outfit, but without the glasses, which they had decided were wrong for the interview. ‘She doesn’t normally appear in a puff of smoke,’ Fox said, ‘but she’s a virtual image, obviously, which your tech guys are making sure is visible to your viewers. To me, she just seems to be there when I need her, pretty much as real as anyone else.’

‘She looks real to me,’ Resnik said. ‘Come and take a seat, Kit. You look a little nervous.’

Kit stepped forward and sat down beside Fox. Her tail was up and twitching at the tip. ‘I am,’ she said. ‘I can itemise the reasons for that, if you wish.’

‘Just like that? You know exactly why you’re nervous?’

‘No, but I ran an analysis while I was waiting.’

‘AIs, especially class fours, have a unique understanding of their own thought processes,’ Terri explained. ‘It’s a capability which has led to a number of insights into psychology. Memetics wouldn’t exist without those insights.’

‘And you can’t dig out how a human came to the same sort of decision, obviously,’ Iberson said, ‘because we’re so damn contrary.’

‘Actually, you can. The problem is that AIs are built to let you perform diagnostic analysis, humans aren’t. To get a full picture of how a brain thinks, we have to take it apart, neuron by neuron, using nanotechnology, and taking a lot of measurements as we go. Most people aren’t willing to have their brain turned into soup just so they can find out why they decided to pick out those same six lottery numbers every week.’

‘I guess not,’ Resnik went on. ‘Okay, so… Kit, a lot of people who are used to the more common AIs wouldn’t believe they could be nervous.’

‘Most people have used class ones without knowing it,’ Kit replied. ‘Those are the things that make your camera work or give you the voice-activation functions on your toaster. Almost everyone has used a class two because the basic operating systems of more or less every computer made in the past thirty years have been based on a class two AI. Most modern autodrive cars have a class three AI, and the same goes for things like automated pilot programs in aircraft. A lot of modern virtual assistants, VAs, are class three as well. They have something of a personality, allowing them to make decisions in a more human manner, but they don’t really have a true grasp of emotion and they have no creativity.’

‘But you do?’

‘My emotional and creative capacity is, theoretically, as great as a human. However, I just turned one on the third, so I don’t have the wealth of experience that a human has.’

‘Talking to Kit,’ Fox said, ‘is a little like talking to a young teenager who has the vocabulary and education of someone fifty years older. She either knows or can find out just about anything in seconds, but she’s sort of innocent.’

‘And incredibly cute,’ Iberson said. ‘I didn’t just say that.’

‘Your secret is safe with us, Charlie,’ Resnik said. ‘But I agree. Kit, you look cute and Tara says you’re sort of innocent, but you assist her in her work. Don’t you find yourself in situations you aren’t prepared for?’

‘Yes,’ Kit said. She looked at Fox. ‘Am I allowed to discuss the Grant case?’

Fox nodded. ‘It’s relatively public knowledge. Spare them the details. We aren’t doing a horror show.’

Kit looked back at Resnik. ‘This summer, we dealt with a serial killer who tortured his victims to death and he dumped one of the bodies where he was quite sure Palladium Security Services would be handling the body. I… found it very difficult to accept that one human could do that to another.’

‘But,’ Fox said, ‘when I suggested it might be better for her to take a step back from the case, she refused. She wanted to see it through, no matter how uncomfortable it made her, because she wanted to see justice done for the victims. And I’m glad she was able to handle it because she was instrumental in solving that case.’

‘Okay,’ Iberson said, ‘Kit’s smart, pretty, law-abiding, and she has a really fine tail. There has to be something wrong with her.’

‘No, she’s perfect.’

Terri nodded. ‘Agreed. She’s just the most gorgeous thing ever.’

Kit, of course, blushed. ‘I… I’m not… I have flaws. You’ve accused me of sarcasm, a-and of corrupting Belle.’ Resnik was staring at her and Kit blinked huge, green eyes. ‘I’m not… Honest.’

‘Sorry, I don’t believe you,’ Resnik said, ‘but that’s not what’s making me look like a startled deer. You’re blushing! You’re embarrassed at the compliments.’

‘Elaine’s right,’ Iberson said. ‘I find my normally acidic demeanour melting in the face of those eyes, but I’m convinced.’ She turned her gaze on Terri, narrowing her eyes. ‘Are you sure you haven’t got a miniaturised girl in that server case? Kit’s almost more human than a human.’

‘I assure you that I am entirely “artificial,” Miss Iberson,’ Kit said. ‘I’m software. I just happen to be software designed and created by a genius.’

Fox could see the slight upward twitch of Kit’s lips, and she was fairly certain that Kit was about to get the reaction she was expecting, but she waited…

Terri’s cheeks reddened. ‘I’m not a genius. Maybe Poppa is, but I’m just…’ She trailed off. ‘I take back everything I said. Kit’s not perfect, she’s evil.’

‘Ha!’ Iberson barked. ‘She seems pretty perfect to me.’

13th November.

‘… fifteen per cent rise in positive mention among the female, twenty-five to fifty age range. It’s higher in the eighteen to twenty-five range, and it’s leaking into the male population.’

Fox let the figures drift past her and waited for Terri to pause. ‘So it’s working so far?’

‘Oh yes,’ Terri said. Her avatar was almost bouncing so it was hardly a surprise. ‘You’re a hit, Kit.’

‘Oh,’ Kit said, ‘I think that having you and Fox there with me was–’

‘We’re having trouble coping with the requests for information on the Kitsune AI series. You broke Athena’s switchboard.’

‘Oh.’

‘Okay, so I admit that the interplay between the three of us probably did help people think of you as something more than just a machine sitting at the back of the stage, but you sold it. We’ll set up a few more of these, but a lot of them will be more technical. You’ve survived the worst and done very well with it.’

‘I am glad that I could help,’ Kit said. Then she frowned. ‘That wasn’t too perfect, was it?’

Fox laughed. ‘It’s you, Kit. Don’t you ever start apologising for what you are.’

‘Damn right,’ Terri said. ‘Oh, Fox, we’re noting an upward swing in positive mentions of Palladium as well. And we’re going to have to do something with your LifeWeb page, because your personal interest ratings are rising.’

Fox sagged back onto the sofa with a groan. ‘Kit, get me a knife. I’m going to slit my wrists now and get it over with.’

‘I’m sorry, Fox, but I’m not allowed to assist in violent self-termination.’

‘Damn honest AIs…’

‘Besides, it would be an inefficient method. There’s only blood in one of your wrists so it would take twice as long to bleed to death.’

‘Damn know-it-all honest AIs.’

15th November.

There was a dozen or so people in the virtual conference, most of them bearing pretty prestigious names according to Kit. Fox had been more concerned with the fact that the viron occupying her office had placed her at one end of the long table and Harper August at the other. It gave the odd impression that she was somehow important, and August had told her she was expected to advise the board of his new foundation, not run it.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ August said, calling the room to order. ‘I’ve met you all individually, so there is no need for me to introduce myself. I’ve no doubt that you all have the basic profiles I provided for the attendees of this meeting filed away in those implants I can’t use, so I won’t bother making other introductions. It may seem a little high-handed of me, but my time is limited.’

When August had been setting up the meeting, NAPA had come to Fox to obtain her opinion on his little project, so she knew that they were allowing the man a maximum of one hour. And he was still locked away in his house: one of the reasons this, rather important, inaugural meeting was being handled via telepresence.

‘Today,’ August went on, ‘the Patricia Randall Foundation for Criminal Justice becomes a legal entity. The structure is currently entirely virtual, but one of our first tasks will be the establishment of a research institute in New York Metro. We have a minimal executive board: CEO, COO, CFO… I would prefer to keep overheads to a minimum and concentrate on results. Along those lines, this meeting is to see that we all agree on our aims so that you can move forward.’

The old man smiled thinly. ‘When I broached the subject of this foundation to most of you, I stated that my intention was to step away from it once it was operating. Miss Meridian suggested recently that she might decide to dissuade me from following that plan. I will be removing myself from direct involvement in the foundation. I’m under house arrest for crimes which should disbar me from involvement with anything dealing with criminal justice. Perhaps my ideals have changed a little. Perhaps those ideals were never wrong, but my attempts to achieve them were. It’s a matter of spin, however. This organisation needs to be clean and ideals are not enough. My reputation is sullied and I cannot have that affecting what I hope we will achieve.’

He paused, looking around and ending with his gaze on Fox. Fox had a sudden desire to hide. ‘So, I will step aside. At the other end of this magic table sits Tara Meridian who is, officially, our expert on the practical application of justice. She is an experienced investigator, a board member of Palladium Security Services, and she has, as she will tell you, all the best toys. She is also a committed seeker of justice with a good head on her shoulders. If you want to know, at some point in the future, what I would view as the right path for the foundation to take, you should ask her. I believe her answer would be the one I would wish to give in almost any situation.’ His lips tugged into a half-grin and that had to be a first. ‘And if all else fails, since Miss Meridian is responsible for my incarceration, NAPA seems more ready to grant her access to me when she needs it, so she can always come to me and ask.’

Fox frowned down the table at August. ‘I seem to get suckered into this kind of position a lot. Jackson Martins didn’t tell me I was on Palladium’s board until I couldn’t really say no.’

August gave a small shrug. ‘What can I say? Great minds think alike? And having your name strongly associated with this rather than mine is, once again, good spin. I’m aware of your hatred of politics, and I suspect you dislike PR and spin just as much, but this foundation bears my granddaughter’s name, not mine. I’d ask that you do it for her memory, if nothing else.’

‘Oh, I’ll do it. For your granddaughter if you wish. But also for Felix Kenan. They’re both a reminder of the tragedies we’re all here to help put a stop to.’ Fox frowned. ‘And for you. You said yourself that the foundation would help the victims of crime. You said your ideals got lost in your obsession to achieve them. Maybe if you’d had something like this when your granddaughter died, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’

For a brief second, Harper August actually looked lost for words; it really was turning out to be a day for firsts. ‘Are you quite sure you have no inclinations toward a political career, Miss Meridian?’ August asked.

Fox returned his half-grin. ‘Stop insulting me and let’s get on with you telling us what we’re supposed to do.’

21st November.

‘Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?’ Naomi asked as she watched Fox dress.

‘Uh, yeah,’ Fox replied. ‘Thanksgiving itself is going to be at home. Jackson and Terri are coming over. So is Jason, and so is Helen. We’re setting up in the main lounge, pigging out and drinking too much. The following day I’m going out to Topeka to see my parents. It’s partially a business thing. We’re bidding to provide training and equipment to their new policing organisation.’

‘It’s nice to have family at this time of year. Mine is here. There will be significant amounts of pigging out in all our chapter houses, though some of us do work, even at Christmas.’

‘No rest for the wicked? I get that. I haven’t taken a Christmas off since I joined NAPA.’

Naomi smiled. ‘And this year?’

‘Huh. Jason wants me to go up to Toronto with him.’

‘Meeting the parents?’

‘And sister.’

‘A serious step.’

‘He’s being all casual about it. Just a nice way to spend Christmas. Possibility of snow. Some snow anyway. But it’s kind of a big step, yeah. I’m still not sure, but I think that’s just nerves.’

‘Probably. You should go. Aside from the probability that you’ll have fun, if it turns out you hate his family, this is your chance to find out early and make a quick exit.’

‘That’s a point. Okay, am I wearing this right?’

Naomi was wearing an amused grin and she lifted a hand to make a twirling motion. Fox sighed and turned on the spot. The outfit under examination was a copy of the standard Sisters’ uniform, without the wimple, but with a pair of fingerless, elbow-length gloves added. There was also another significant variation…

‘You look… perfect.’

‘Good, but why is it red?’ The uniform was, indeed, a rich, burgundy colour with a white cross over the chest and white trim. ‘Why the variations?’

‘All in good time. We should get moving. The ceremony is due to start soon.’

They met Marie and Gilly on the way down. Gilly had been helping Marie get into her own uniform, though that was now the black and white of a full Sister. As far as Fox could tell, Marie was pulling off the look better than she was, but then Marie had had some of the training and she was a vid star now on top of that. The foursome marched down to one of the lecture theatres side-by-side to join the throng which had been packed in and was waiting for them.

Fox felt distinctly nervous as she sat at the front of the theatre beside Marie while Naomi stepped up to the lectern. It was just a little something that Naomi had cooked up: a bit of spin, really, honouring women who had helped the Sisters of Corruption. There were a couple of select media representatives in the audience, including people from Athena and IB-19, and all the media outlets had been sensible enough to send female reporters. Not that there were no men out there: Jason and Sam were in the front row, and there was a scattering of lay brothers among the women.

Still, even though Naomi was being very casual about things, there was a sense of something big and official about what was happening. Fox felt like she was about to get a medal from the president or something.

‘Sisters and brothers,’ Naomi said as the room quietened, ‘we come together today to honour those who have recently left us under… distressing circumstances, but also to celebrate new friends who have come to us, partially, through those circumstances and given us much. Twenty sixty will be remembered as a year of ups and downs. We lost four of our sisterhood in a manner which is too horrible to mention here, but we will not forget them, ever. Thanks to a low-budget experiment by IB-Nineteen, we found ourselves with considerable positive media attention, and their continued support for a character many would have viewed as unsuitable for mainstream media is likely to sway public opinion more in our favour. The Sisters of Corruption always strive to make the best of what we have, so we will remember our fallen Sisters and those other women taken from this world before their time, but we will continue into what we hope will be a far brighter future, heads held high.’

Naomi paused and Fox imagined her shuffling notes which she did not have. ‘Marie Shaftsbury came to us as an untried actress given her big chance in vids and determined to make the most of it. But she decided that the best way to make the most of that chance was to play her part to the best of her ability, and she was willing to learn what being a Sister is all about. I know there were some who expected to meet a stuck-up prima donna when she arrived to spend a week with us, but she won everyone over with her willingness to join in as much as was possible. She did chores and attended lectures. More, she talked to us and learned why we do what we do, both professionally and aesthetically. Through her character, M. J. Kelly, she introduced people to the whole of being a Sister of Corruption, not simply the popular view of what we are. For her services to the Church of Saint Nicholas, we are pleased to award Marie Shaftsbury the title of Lay Sister.’

Beaming, Marie got to her feet and stepped up to the lectern with Naomi who gave her a quick, rather chaste, kiss on the lips before offering the microphone. Marie bit her lip and then said, ‘I didn’t prepare a speech or anything, so you’ll have to listen to me ramble. I’m being honoured for something you all did for me. Without you to teach me how to be one of you, M. J. would not have been the character she was. So, thank you for this, and thank you for giving me this chance.’ She grinned. ‘I guess this means that, when M. J. returns to the channel, the uniform will be officially worn by a Sister.’ She leaned forward and added in a conspiratorial tone, ‘But they do make me wear panties under it on set.’

There was applause and laughter and Naomi came forward again, smirking at Marie, as the latter backed off to her seat.

‘Your turn,’ Marie whispered.

‘Yeah,’ Fox whispered back. ‘I still don’t know why I’m in red.’

‘Soon find out…’

‘And on to our second honouree,’ Naomi said. ‘I met Tara Meridian when she came with Marie, primarily because she was curious and the company she works for handles our security. I met her again when I asked her to look into the recent murders. And then she came to us when our home was invaded to see that justice was done. I admit that, on that occasion, I wondered whether I had made a great mistake with Tara. But the cold dispassion I saw in her was there to let her do her job, and when she could afford to pause, I saw the compassionate woman beneath who would not rest until this… monster was no longer a threat. She is not a religious woman, but she gave me a light to look to in that time of darkness. And she did bring down the… man who brought us that darkness.’

Naomi looked back and grinned. ‘Tara has been wondering why we dressed her in red. We thought long and hard about this, though I admit that was mostly concerning costume design. Tara is never going to be a traditional lay sister. I see her more as one of the knights who came to the aid of monasteries in ages past. So we designed a new uniform, and we have created a new title. For her efforts to keep us safe from those who would harm us, we are awarding Tara Meridian the title of Sister Protector.’

Fox walked up to the lectern with a slightly bemused expression on her face. ‘Sister Protector?’

‘We think it’s appropriate,’ Naomi replied, leaning forward and pressing her lips lightly to Fox’s. Fox felt the light flick of Naomi’s tongue before they parted and Naomi waved her to the microphone. The Sister Superior had a smirk on her face as Fox’s bemusement continued.

‘Uh,’ Fox said, rallying, ‘I didn’t prepare a speech either, given that this is a total surprise. If I had a speech, I’d probably be throwing it away anyway… All I did was my job and I didn’t do it alone. My PA, Kit, and Helen Dillan helped crack the case. Teresa Martins provided invaluable assistance, as did Palladium and MarTech. Any detective who tells you they cracked a case single-handed is being an arrogant asshole. So I’m accepting this honour for all of them as well as me.’

Fox paused and frowned. ‘I’m the corporate exec and I’m supposed to have something meaningful to say… It’s not really me, though. I just put bad guys away.’ She looked down at her tunic. ‘At least this outfit covers the scratches. The last one ruined a perfectly good tan. Modern medicine means we don’t have to carry the scars of our battles around if we don’t want to. That’s the physical scars. The mental ones are another matter, and I hope that knowing the thing that came here to kill will never do it again brings you all some closure and lets the scars heal a little more. I know that putting him down gave me some satisfaction. So, thank you for this honour. I’m going to keep on doing my job, which is protecting anyone who needs my help. But now I can do it in real style!’

###

About the Author

I was born in the vicinity of Hadrian's Wall so perhaps a bit of history rubbed off. Ancient history obviously, and border history, right on the edge of the Empire. I always preferred the Dark Ages anyway; there’s so much more room for imagination when people aren’t writing down every last detail. So my idea of a good fantasy novel involved dirt and leather, not shining plate armour and Hollywood-medieval manners. The same applies to my sci-fi, really; I prefer gritty over shiny.

Oddly, then, one of the first fantasy novels I remember reading was The Dark Is Rising, by Susan Cooper (later made into a terrible juvenile movie). These days we would call Cooper’s series Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy and looking back on it, it influenced me a lot. It has that mix of modern day life, hidden history, and magic which failed to hit popular culture until the early days of Buffy and Anne Rice. Of course, Cooper’s characters spend their time around places I could actually visit in Cornwall, and South East England, and mid-Wales. In fact, when I went to university in Aberystwyth, it was partially because some of Cooper’s books were set a few miles to the north around Tywyn.

I got into writing through roleplaying, however, so my early work was related to the kind of roleplaying game I was interested in. I wrote science fiction when I was playing Traveller. I wrote “high fantasy” when I was playing Dungeons & Dragons. I wrote a lot of superhero fiction when I was playing City of Heroes. I still love the idea of a modern world with magic in it and I’ve been trying to write a novel based on this for a long time. As with any form of expression, practice is the key and I can look back on all the aborted attempts at books, and the more successful short stories, as steps along the path to the Thaumatology Series.

Recently I took the big step of quitting my day job and taking up full-time writing. My favourite authors are Terry Pratchett, Susan Cooper, J.D. Robb, and Kim Harrison. Kim’s Hollows books were what finally spurred me to publish something, even if the trail to here came by way of Susan, back in school, several decades ago.

For More Information

Take a look at the Witches and Ray-guns blog: http://witchesandrayguns.wordpress.com

Other Books by this Author

US Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B006J6II9O

UK Author Page: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B006J6II9O

The Thaumatology Series

Thaumatology 101

Demon’s Moon

Legacy

Dragon’s Blood

Disturbia

Hammer of Witches

Eagle’s Shadow

Ancient

Dragonfall

The Other Side of Hell

For Whom the Wedding Bells Toll

Vengeance

Anthologies in the Thaumatology Universe

Tales from High Towers’ Study

Tales from the Dubh Linn

The Aneka Jansen Books

Steel Beneath The Skin

The Cold Steel Mind

Steel Heart

The Winter War

The Greatest Heights of Honour

The Lowest Depths of Shame

Hope

The Ultrahuman Books

Ugly

Shadows

Hunting Mink – April 2016

Frostburn – Coming 2016

The Unobtainium Books

Kate on a Hot Tin Roof

The Reality Hack Books

Reality Hack

The Fox Meridian Books

Fox Hunt

Inescapable

DeathWeb

Criminal Minds

The Princeps Venator Books

Hunter’s Kiss

Be My Valentine – Coming 2016

Table of Contents

Part One: The Sisters of Corruption

Part Two: Jack

Part Three: Criminal Minds

Part Four: Marie Jeanette

Part Five: Spin

Table of Contents

Part One: The Sisters of Corruption

Part Two: Jack

Part Three: Criminal Minds

Part Four: Marie Jeanette

Part Five: Spin