18
Up in Stevie Bitts’s suite at the hotel, Cordelia and Karl tucked Stephanie and Lionheart into bed. Anders and someone named Xadrian, who had been of great help down in the club, waited in the sitting room. Jessica had stayed behind to talk to the EMTs. As Cordelia and Karl stepped out of the bedroom, shutting off the lights, but leaving the door open in case Stephanie should need them, Jessica let herself into the suite.
“We’re clear,” she said. “Since Stephanie’s blood work didn’t show anything illegal—not even alcohol—and her vital signs stabilized, the EMTs didn’t see any need to rush her off to a hospital. Based on what they didn’t say, they think she was acting up, trying to get attention. Apparently, they see a lot of that sort of thing.”
Karl sighed. “Richard and Marjorie didn’t ream me out or anything when I commed them.” He shook his head, his expression less than happy. “I almost wish they had.”
“Hey, it wasn’t your fault!” Jessica said, giving him a quick hug. “We were all watching her like hawks. And Chief Chuchkova’s people were there almost as quick as you and Lionheart!”
“I know. I know!” Karl shook his head again, then closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “I know,” he said again, “but it’s Steph, and if anything happened to her—”
“Something did happen, but we were waiting, and we caught her when she fell, Karl,” Anders said. He reached out and squeezed Karl’s shoulder. “And the reason we were there to catch her was because you’d insisted we do this right. So stop kicking yourself, okay?”
“But—” Karl began, then stopped. “Okay. You’re right,” he admitted. “And at least the EMT doc was able to tell Richard and Marjorie she’s going to be fine before they climbed into their air car and headed for town.”
“Exactly,” Jessica said firmly. She gave him one last squeeze and stood back, and he smiled at her, then looked at the others.
“In that case,” he said in a deliberately brisker tone, “we need to start figuring out what happened. Anders, any thoughts?”
Anders gave them a quick summary of events earlier that evening, including how he’d seen both Frank and Rodrigo. At this point, the newcomer, Xadrian, leaned forward from one end of the sofa.
“I have seen those two before,” Xadrian said, “usually accompanied by another.”
“Oh?” Karl looked at her for a moment, then punched up an image on his uni-link and showed it to Xadrian. “Would that have been this guy?”
“It would, indeed,” Xadrian agreed, looking at the image of Stan Chang. “And I wondered what they were doing in the Enigmatic Riddle. Clearly, even though they tried to look as if they enjoyed themselves, it was not the sort of place they would choose to socialize.”
“Do you think they could have done something to Steph?” Anders asked, pacing restlessly around the room, picking up and putting down things, clearly unaware of what he was doing.
Xadrian nodded. “They might have put something in her drink. When Stevie left the dance floor and returned to her table, one of the waitstaff brought her a fresh Ruby Houri. Stevie looked just a little surprised, but then she caught my eye and smiled at me. She drank the entire thing fairly quickly.”
Jessica drew in a sharp breath. “That’s Stephanie all over, especially if she was thirsty from all the dancing and the drink was at all sweet. Was it?”
“Oh, definitely,” Xadrian said, “a Ruby Houri is essentially a mixed fruit punch with spiced rum. The ‘virgin’ version would use a rum flavoring instead. What if someone gave her a drink with alcohol and she downed it that quickly? Does she hold her liquor well?”
“Steph doesn’t really drink,” Anders said, “but, y’know, we sampled a little when we were dating. She’ll get just a little buzz, but she doesn’t hold it. She says she guesses her metabolism burns through the alcohol too fast.”
“But what if the drink was spiked with…” Jessica stopped in mid-sentence, turned to Xadrian. “Look, Xadrian. I gather you took a liking to Stephanie, and Anders said that you were the one who signaled the hotel EMTs that something was wrong, that Stephanie wasn’t just making a spectacle of herself, but we don’t know you. I’m inclined to trust you…”
Cordelia saw her gaze flicker to where Valiant—along with the other treecats—was keeping vigil over sleeping Stephanie, and understood. Athos also seemed completely comfortable with Xadrian.
“…but maybe you should tell us about yourself.”
The elegant figure in the snowy suit brushed a hand down the line of pearl buttons that closed the deep purple shirt. “I am… By day, I am a humble worker behind the scenes, employed in a government office. By night, I am the guardian of the Enigmatic Riddle, keeper of the sacred dancing floor…”
Anders frowned, puzzled by this odd introduction. “So, you’re a paid host at the club? Stephanie thought you might be.”
“No, no, not at all.” Xadrian seemed slightly offended. “I simply feel at home there, as a treecat does in the shadowed greenwood. If the wilderness has those whose souls resonate with it, so must the urban landscape. The Enigmatic Riddle is my favorite haunt, that is all. When I see a promising acolyte, I reach out to draw that one into the mysteries. So it was with Stevie—Stephanie, as I must now call her. She was waiting, intense but shy. I would not have her leave my temple feeling unwelcome.”
Karl made a sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “All right. Believe it or not, I can buy that. So, how would you feel if someone did spike Stephanie’s drink?”
“Annoyed. Extremely. That is bad behavior.”
“And,” Jessica said, returning to what she had been about to say, “what if they spiked it with something other than booze? A drug that causes euphoria, for example?”
“I would be deeply offended, but not…” One perfectly manicured nail tapped an upper lip while Xadrian searched for the right word. “…not surprised. However, the EMTs would check for euphorics immediately. That is part of what they are trained to do, given how such substances can be abused, since they are hired by the club. They found nothing.”
“Possibly because there was nothing to find,” Jessica said, “either because it cleared Stephanie’s metabolism quickly or because the drug wasn’t programmed into the analyzer.”
Xadrian did not look surprised. “There have been rumors of something new, but I have not pursued it. My ‘high’ comes from the rituals of the nightlife. I drink very sparingly, take nothing illegal.” She dropped her elevated manner for a moment and grinned. “If I’m going clubbing at night, and expect to go to work in the morning, I need to be careful.”
Then she became serious again. “None of you seem at all surprised by the idea of a new party drug. May I assume you know something about it?”
“Not enough,” Karl said, “and we need to know more. Look, Xadrian. I think someone slipped a drug to Stephanie. I’ve known her since she was a kid, and she’s never acted like Anders reported, like we saw after we got in there, before she went down. I don’t know if you believe me but—”
Xadrian interrupted. “I believe you. The Stevie I danced with was charmingly awkward in some ways, definitely not the sort to begin racing about like a mad woman, as some patrons have been known to do to draw attention to themselves. I will help you learn what was done to her. I may be able to learn whether one of those two—Frank and Rodrigo, you say—arranged for Stephanie to be sent a new drink. However, I doubt that even I can get a server to admit to knowingly delivering something that had been spiked. Still, if one of them did, it would be a confirmation of your suspicions, and that might be helpful.”
Karl looked pleased. “I’ll send my contact information to your uni-link. Thanks for the offer. Also, if you can get a line on whether Frank and Rod are doing more than being inept barflies, that would be great. Are they meeting with anyone specific? It’s too much to hope that you can get anyone to admit those guys are actually selling or distributing drugs but, if you can, that would be fantastic.”
“I will do my best,” Xadrian bowed deeply. “They have profaned the temple of which I am self-appointed hierophant. Punishment should come swift and sure.”
Xadrian rose from the bow and swept theatrically from the room.
“Quite a character,” Cordelia said. “But I like her. And so do the ’cats. That counts, right?”
“It definitely does,” Karl agreed. “Okay. Deep breath time. Four treecats are very rarely seen in a Sphinxian nightclub, so it’s inevitable someone is going to post about tonight’s adventure. I’ve already brought Chief Ranger Shelton up to speed, and Marjorie and Richard are comming my mom and dad and about it. Cordelia and Jessica, I’ll leave what you tell your parents up to you, but we need a public version, especially if Frank and Rod were involved, because they’ll darned well figure out exactly who ‘Stevie’ is as soon as the word ‘treecat’ comes up! So what I suggest is that we stick with the send-off party for Anders. I offered to ’cat-sit with Lionheart so Steph could party a bit with Anders and you two, since none of you could take your ’cats into the Enigmatic Riddle. But then Lionheart thought something was wrong and ended up getting inside after all to reassure himself that it wasn’t really an issue. Turned out she’d just gotten a little overheated and overexcited dancing, since she doesn’t do much of that.”
“She is so going to kill you for that one, Karl Zivonik!” Jessica chortled. “‘Overexcited? Our Steph? Oh, this is one comeuppance I’ve got to see!”
“Hey, it beats drugged without even knowing it!” Karl shot back with a crooked smile.
“Actually, that sounds like a pretty good cover story,” Anders said thoughtfully. “I’m sure some of this is going to turn up on social media, but the lighting wasn’t too good and Lionheart got to her quickly enough we don’t really need to cover anything else.” He nodded. “I think it’ll work, Karl.”
Cordelia agreed, and saw Jessica nod and reach for her uni-link. Once messages were sent, Jessica went in to check on Stephanie.
“She’s sleeping peacefully. Heart rate back to normal, breathing, too. I’d say that by checkout time, probably even by morning, she’s going to be fine.”
They sat up a while longer, discussing possible future courses of action, much of which depended on what Xadrian was able to find out for them. When they finally crashed, Cordelia and Jessica took the spare bed in the room where Stephanie still slept within her guardian circle of treecats. The last thing Cordelia heard as she drifted off was Karl and Anders arm-wrestling for who got the sofa, and who the rather lumpy extra cot.
Somehow, Cordelia had no doubt that Karl would win.
Stephanie awoke to find Lionheart snuggled close to her, his tail wrapped around the top of her head. She felt no disconnect at being in a strange place, and extraordinarily clearheaded. The room was very dark. In the other bed, Jessica and Cordelia, with Valiant and Athos curled at the foot of the bed, slept.
Obviously, all of them had moved from their secret HQ in the YCPD’s building to the hotel, she thought. That said interesting things about the hotel management.
She rose as quietly as possible and tiptoed to the bedroom door. She peeked through it into the suite’s living room, then sighed silently as the two largish, snoring lumps confirmed what she’d already known. Everyone was here, which meant Operation Undercover was history, one way or the other, whatever happened next. Five teenagers and four treecats in a single hotel suite was about as un-undercover as things could get.
She shook her head, eased the door shut, and went into the bathroom adjoining the room the girls were sharing. Lionheart padded after, leaping lightly onto the countertop, his green eyes sparkling in the light from the nightlight. Once she had the door shut, Stephanie turned on the overhead light and surveyed the remnants of Stevie Bitts.
Someone—probably Jessica—had taken off her hair extensions and outer clothes, as well as somehow getting Stephanie into the sleepshirt that had been in her overnight bag. However, most of the makeup remained, so the face that looked back at her was in many ways still that of a stranger.
Well, I can deal with that, she thought.
The small bag in which Stephanie had packed her toiletries was set on the counter, alongside similar bags that doubtless belonged to Jessica and Cordelia. There was also a container of cold cream, which Stephanie remembered was used for removing makeup. So armed, Stephanie set about reverting to her more usual self.
Teeth brushed, freshly showered, her curly hair finger-combed, Stephanie realized she was ravenous. She was debating whether she could order something from room service without disturbing everyone else, when there was a light tap on the door.
“Need the toilet,” Cordelia said, yawning around the words. “And everyone is awake. Karl’s ordered bagels, cream cheese, bacon, and a bunch of other stuff.”
Stephanie had the door open before Cordelia had finished speaking. Impulsively she hugged the older girl. “Thanks for everything!”
Karl had seen her in her nightshirt many times, but with Anders there, Stephanie decided she could wait to eat long enough to change into street clothes. Jessica, veteran of a large, very informal family, had no such qualms, as Stephanie saw when she joined the others in the main room of the suite. Karl and Anders wore shorts and not much else, so Stephanie ended up feeling overdressed.
She covered her momentary embarrassment by pouncing on a large pumpernickel bagel, smearing it with cream cheese, topping it with bacon, then plopping down on the floor. They’d brought ’cat kibble, and the space under the table was occupied by a line of treecats, munching away. Lionheart patted Stephanie before going to take his place at the one unemptied bowl.
Another proof they’re “people,” not “just animals,” Stephanie thought. His pals left him his breakfast, even the bacon garnish. Heck, not even all humans would do that. Her stomach growled in agreement.
Stephanie knew she was thinking about other things to distract herself from having to ask exactly what had happened last night. Her memories after leaving the dance floor were distinctly blurry and part of her wanted to leave them that way, but she had to find out.
“So,” she said, once several large bites of bagel had been washed down with black coffee, “what happened last night?”
“What do you last remember?” Karl countered.
“Dancing with Xadrian, then with Anders, then with a couple other people. Really needing something to drink. Going back to my table and… That’s where it gets foggy. I do remember feeling as if I knew the solution to the problem of Frank and Orgeson, but what that was… I can’t remember.”
“We’re not sure exactly what happened to you,” Anders began. He’d never been much of a breakfast eater, she remembered, and now he was sipping a mug of coffee and toying with some melon cubes. “But I can tell you what I saw. I was doing what we’d agreed on during our dance. Keeping my distance, seeing what gossip I could pick up. I’d located the woman Frank had been dancing with, and was just about to ask her to dance when I realized there was sort of a ripple in the crowd. I turned to see what was going on, and I was amazed to see that you were, well, stalking around, looking for someone or something, and getting seriously pissed off when you couldn’t find it.”
“Ouch,” Stephanie moaned, envisioning the scene all too easily. “Go on.”
“I didn’t watch for long, because you clearly weren’t yourself. Xadrian and I converged on you in time to keep you from assaulting a bartender who you seemed to think was holding out on you. Although why the bartender and what you thought he could tell you, I’m not sure. I’m not sure he was certain either. You were articulate, but cryptic. Anyhow, we got you pulled back—which wasn’t easy, let me tell you.”
He held up an arm to show a line of bruises that looked remarkably like small finger marks.
“About then Lionheart came racing in from the direction of the garage. The door was open because people had started trickling out when it looked as if you were going to start a brawl. Then it was you and treecat and people screaming and more treecats and club security, and about the time we were going to get thrown out, you collapsed. Xadrian, bless her heart, had already figured out that you were drunk or stoned or something and alerted the club’s very discreet, very helpful EMTs. By then, Jessica and Cordelia—with more treecats—had come in. Jess set herself up to liaise with the medics, speaking some sort of medico babble that reassured them that you weren’t in any danger.”
Jessica said, “I mentioned Meyerdahl mods, accelerated metabolism, and since their job is to make sure the club doesn’t have scandals, and the sedatives they’d given you were dealing with the crazy heart rate, and we were willing to sign a waiver. Well, Karl was willing—”
“After I checked in with your dad and mom,” Karl added, and shuddered dramatically. “I popped the EMTs’ data to your dad on my uni-link, but I still had to face ’em. Believe me, that was a bad moment.”
“—we all left peacefully, and came up here and that’s it.”
Stephanie finished the pumpernickel bagel and smeared more cheese on a cinnamon raisin one, mostly to give herself time to review this.
“My—”
“—folks,” Karl finished for her. “I told you; they’re up to speed. I do have instructions from your mom that you’re supposed to screen home ‘as soon as she’s finished eating,’ but I don’t think they’re likely to tear your head off. Besides,” his eyes darkened, “if anyone’s head needs tearing off, it’s mine, not yours.”
“Don’t go taking all the credit,” Stephanie said in a deliberately light tone. “Some of it’s mine, you know. I was just as involved in setting this all up as you were.”
“Maybe,” Karl said after a moment, then shrugged. “Anyway, Chief Shelton and Chief Chuchkova are up to date, too. I had to promise them we’d bring you down to Chief Chuchkova’s HQ for a formal statement before we head home. And she wants copies of the EMTs’ notes, too. Your parents have to sign the release for that; you can’t because you’re a minor and I can’t because I’m not your guardian. Xadrian messaged me and said she’s been checking. There’s been some chatter on social media about the young woman with the treecat who wigged out, and it didn’t take much for people to connect that with you. But apparently no images of you actually collapsing have gotten out. We’re putting it down to your overheating and getting too excited in a crowd like that, then passing out, since the fact that the EMTs were called is already out on the feeds.”
“To what?” Stephanie stared at him. She heard something like a smothered chuckle from Jessica, but her friend’s face was admirably serious when Stephanie darted a look her way, so she returned her glare to Karl.
“We needed a cover story,” he said, meeting that glare levelly. “And if we don’t want them guessing we’re on to them, mentioning anything like drugs or spiked drinks would be a pretty bad idea. Chief Shelton and Chief Chuchkova both agree with that, by the way. That’s why you don’t see any cops parked outside the suite; they’re keeping a low profile. I know it’s, uh, a little embarrassing, maybe, but the Enigmatic Riddle’s not exactly your usual stomping grounds, Steph. Not mine, either. So the possibility of you being…a little out of your depth, maybe, will work. Especially for the people we’re interested in, since most of them think of you as a nosey, troublemaking kid with a twitchy temper. You know they do.”
Stephanie gazed at him balefully, but he had a point, she admitted.
Maybe.
“Anyway,” Karl continued, “someone with the club’s management pinged the EMTs, even though you really didn’t need them, and I was out in the parking lot, ’cat-sitting until one of you spelled me for my turn on the floor. But when the EMTs got into the act, I hopped out and Lionheart and the others got past me and went scooting ahead to find out what the stupid humans were up to. Which only added to the excitement when they arrived about the same time the EMTs did, of course. Naturally things got pretty confused, but there weren’t any drugs involved. We can sell that with the right help, Steph.”
“What sort of ‘help’?” Stephanie demanded, still regarding him with a fulminating eye that promised eventual retribution.
“Xadrian’s already doing damage control, and so is Nosey. The story going out is that the treecats wanted to be with their owners and got into the club, which caused some confusion.
“Nosey is amazing. The signal’s already down to ‘amusing animal story’ and he predicts that, without further material, it’s going to vanish by noon. He’s been boosting the signal on a story about a city counselor caught with her hand in the till, too, as well as the touching story of two high school sweethearts who each thought the other had died in the Plague, and who are getting married next week. He said something about ‘Move along! Nothing to see here!’”
“Nosey,” Cordelia stated, coming to join them, her hair damp, “is amazing and terrifying. Karl, please pass me the bagels before Stephanie eats them all, and I have to steal Athos’s crunchies.”
She gave Stephanie a pat on that back that took away any sting from her words, and said, “You feeling better, kiddo? You look good. Clear-eyed and perky. Any chance you remember anything we can add to the data file?”
Stephanie grabbed another strip of bacon. “Just a little. I remember I was trying to find Frank and Rod. I was going to ask them some very pointed questions. What questions, I don’t remember, but I had this idea that I knew exactly what would break the whole case open. Then, when I couldn’t find them, I started getting really pissed-off. No one was going to stop me when I was right on the edge of success. I don’t remember talking to the bartender, but I guess I thought he was hiding them and got upset.”
“Fits,” Karl said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Your increased heart rate—doubtless caused by the baka bakari—was probably interpreted by your mind as anger, anxiety, annoyance. We already suspect the stuff makes for overconfidence, and you’ve never really been great about keeping your temper when you think you’ve been crossed.”
“Truth,” Stephanie admitted. “I’m getting better, but if this stuff removes common sense, then…” She shrugged, reached for a third bagel, then stopped in mid-reach.
Karl grinned. “I ordered extra. Go for it. You haven’t had anything but some sweet drinks and a bit of chocolate since dinner last night.”
“And that was early,” Jessica commented, “because we had to doll you up. Hey, make this future doctor happy and have some fruit with your carbs and fats, okay?”
Stephanie thought about dolling up when, as the gang was packing up, preparatory to checking out, a very different Xadrian showed up at the suite. She was still androgynous, but gone was the exotic figure of the night before, replaced by a soberly clad, completely forgettable civil servant.
The forgettable civil servant in question flashed a bright smile more in keeping with the nightclub Xadrian. “I was sent out on an errands that brought me this way. I couldn’t resist seeing if you were still here. May I come in?”
Anders, who’d answered the door, stepped back. “Sure. It’s a bit cluttered, but there’s always room for you.”
Xadrian gave Anders a wicked grin, which made him blush. “Good to know…” Once inside, she turned to Stephanie. “I see I am not the only shapeshifter in our company. You look charming this way, too, I assure you.”
Their guest took the seat that Karl gestured toward, and didn’t flinch when Lionheart leapt over to give her a solid head butt. Stephanie knew the gesture was a friendly greeting, and was pleased by Xadrian’s understanding, and evident pleasure.
“I was able to gather a little information last night,” Xadrian went on, patting Lionheart gently, “although not as much as any of us would like. The order for Stephanie’s second Ruby Houri came electronically, paid off a pre-paid chip, so no information there… Except.” Xadrian flashed another brilliant smile. “I managed to get a look at the night’s receipts and that same pre-pay was used to purchase several drinks as well as some snacks for Frank Câmara and Rodrigo Gállego.”
“So, it was them.” Stephanie fought not to bare her teeth and growl. “But there’s nothing illegal about buying a girl a drink.”
“Nothing,” Xadrian agreed, but she still seemed very pleased, so Stephanie guessed there was more. “I located the server who brought the drink to you. I know her—I know everyone at Enigmatic—and I told her I had a bet on that you’d been drunk when you flipped out. She denied it, even showed me the order, and told me that she’d made the drink herself. I got her talking, challenging her, you know, because I had a bet on, and she challenged me back, saying she remembered every step, even how, when she had the drink ready and on the tray, she’d had to stop because two young men came up to her with a bunch of questions. She’d been glad that the Houri doesn’t melt quickly, because she would have had to remake it. From whom she described, I would say that the young men were this Frank and that Rodrigo.”
“And that while one distracted her, the other put something in Stephanie’s drink,” Karl said. “That’s very useful. I didn’t actually see the drink. Would it show if something was dropped in, especially if that something needed to dissolve?”
“Sadly not,” Xadrian said. “It is multihued, more opaque than translucent, and very strongly flavored, the virgin actually more so than the straight because of the rum extract.”
“Can’t have everything,” Karl said philosophically. “It’s good to know who ordered the drink and that it could have been tampered with. It’s too easy to start blaming things on people you don’t much like. Any luck with what they were doing there?”
“I’m working on that,” Xadrian said, “but nothing definite so far. I’ll message you one way or the other, whether I learn anything or not. Now, you must check out, and I must scurry back to my duties. I did want to speak to you in person, and reassure myself Stephanie was recovered. Be well! Be careful!”
Then, with a flourish of the hand more suited to her nighttime self than the soberly clad individual currently before them, Xadrian rose, patted Lionheart a final time, and slipped out the door.
Olivera Chuchkova was a tall woman, with straight dark hair and sharp, equally dark eyes. She wore the Yawata Crossing PD’s dark blue uniform without any rank insignia, which Stephanie supposed was actually its own insignia, given that she was its chief.
At the moment, Chuchkova sat behind the desk in her Yawata Crossing office, tipped back in her chair, elbows on the armrests and fingers steepled under her chin as Karl and Stephanie finished bringing her fully up to date. Chief Ranger Shelton was in his own office but attending the conference by com, and Chuchkova had turned her com display so that all of them could see one another.
“So we got Steph up to the suite and put her to bed.” Karl had chosen to stand as he made his report, and he faced Chuchkova and Shelton square-shouldered, hands clasped behind him. “The EMTs were right; she turned out to be just fine. But we still blew it, at least in terms of catching anyone red-handed. And we don’t have a sample of whatever they put in her drink, either, so we can’t match it against the baka bakari Herman gave us.”
“You mean what they allegedly put in her drink,” Chuchkova said dryly, and Karl flushed ever so slightly. “Even if these two bought the drink for her, we don’t have any proof they put anything in it. And, for that matter, we don’t have any proof Ms. Harrington was given anything at all, according to the blood panels.”
“As far as a court of law is concerned, maybe, Ma’am,” he said. “But I know Steph. She can be a handful, but not like that. Her behavior was completely outside her normal parameters. So even if we can’t prove it, someone did put something into that glass. Under the circumstances, it almost had to be baka bakari. And I may not be able to prove Frank and Rod were the ‘someone’ who put it there, but I know them, too, and that’s why I know darned well they were.”
There was more than a little grimness in his level voice, and his eyes were hard.
“A good cop—or ranger—knows when to listen to her instincts,” Chuchkova said. “Just between you and me, I think you’re absolutely right about who did what, but there is that bothersome little thing called ‘proof.’ You know—the thing we don’t have any of?”
“No, Ma’am. We don’t,” Karl acknowledged.
Stephanie wanted to pipe up, but she’d decided it would be best to let Karl carry the ball. She didn’t know Chief Chuchkova anywhere near as well as she knew Chief Shelton, and Chuchkova had said very little to her, aside from greeting her courteously and asking how she felt. She wondered if the police chief was one of those people prepared to write her off as a troublemaking kid, but she wasn’t about to horn in on the report of the single sworn ranger on their investigating team and risk confirming that view of her. So she’d sat in her chair, Lionheart in her lap and on his best behavior, listening, with her mouth—uncharacteristically for her—firmly shut.
Which was why she was a bit surprised when Chuchkova raised an eyebrow at her.
“You were the one they got to with this stuff, Ms. Harrington. I’ve viewed Karl’s initial report, and I’ve obviously talked to my own department medical staff about the EMTs’ notes. But you’re the one who experienced it from the inside, as it were. So is there anything you’d like to add?”
“Well,” Stephanie said slowly, “I can’t say completely honestly that my behavior was as totally outside my normal behavior as Karl seems to think.” She quirked a brief smile. “He tends to go easier on me than he probably should—when he’s not yelling at me for something really stupid, that is.”
Chuchkova snorted.
“My memory’s nowhere near as clear as I’d like,” Stephanie continued, “but I do remember being completely confident that I had the answer to everything that’s been bugging us about this. I don’t remember what I thought that answer was, but I knew I’d figured it out, and all I needed was confirmation. I didn’t think that, Chief Chuchkova—I knew that, without any doubt at all.”
“And you think that’s especially significant…why?” Chuchkova asked, regarding her intently.
“Because that’s what I wanted most in the world last night,” Stephanie said very seriously. “I’ve been talking to my friends a lot lately about what could make someone—someone young, someone my age—abuse drugs. Until last night, I didn’t really understand what they were saying. But there are a lot of young people, a lot of kids, here on Sphinx who’re carrying around a lot of pain. People they’ve lost.” Her eyes flitted ever so briefly to Karl and her arms tightened around Lionheart. “Boredom. People who don’t want to be here, can’t do the things they really want to do. I think what makes this baka bakari so attractive is that while you’re using it, you think you’re solving whatever your problem is, fixing whatever’s wrong.”
“I’m not sure I follow you,” Chuchkova said.
“I’m not sure I’m explaining it right,” Stephanie said. “But—I don’t drink, and I don’t do drugs, unless somebody else puts them into my drink.” She quirked another smile. “But from what I understand, aren’t drugs usually…I don’t know, an escape? A way to distract yourself from whatever’s making you unhappy? To help you forget about it, at least for a while?”
“That’s probably fair enough.” Chuchkova nodded. “The ‘distraction’ works in different ways, of course. False euphoria—happiness, I suppose—is probably the most common, but just sending yourself into a stupor will do it for some people. Why?”
“Because the one thing that didn’t happen to me was to distract me from what was bugging me or send me into a stupor. I wasn’t ‘escaping’ from anything.” Stephanie looked back and forth between the two chief officers and Karl. “I was completely, a hundred percent engaged in what I was doing. I was that close”—she held up her right hand, thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart—“to actually solving the case. And there’s a little part of me that remembers being that close. That thinks I really was. I know I wasn’t, but it feels like I was, even knowing what actually happened.”
“Really?” Chief Shelton asked thoughtfully from the com display.
“Yes, Sir.” Stephanie nodded. “And if I was a kid in a lot of pain, someone who didn’t think she could cope with all the stuff coming down on her, someone who didn’t think she had any way to accomplish what was really, really important to her, that would make this stuff awfully attractive to me. I’m not running away from my problems when I take it; I’m solving my problems. I’ll bet you that even someone who’s done something really stupid while she was using it, feels the same way. And if her memory’s as…hazy as mine, she may not remember the stupid, but she darned well remembers solving the problem!”
“That’s a very good point,” Chuchkova said after a moment. “And it may well indicate that this stuff is more addictive than I’d first thought.”
“The kind of addictive that attracts competent, capable people, not just people stuck in ugly situations,” Shelton said slowly.
“We already suspected some of that from the people we think have been using it, Sir,” Karl pointed out. “Jake Simpson, for example. He’s really good with a skimmer, so it’s not like he needed to get drugged up to feel confident about using one. But if Steph’s typical, then maybe the baka bakari makes him feel even more competent, more confident. Maybe what it’s really doing is making all the outstanding stuff he can do with a skimmer an even bigger triumph for him?”
“That’s all very interesting—I mean that sincerely.” Chief Chuchkova brought her chair upright and folded her hands on her desktop. “And it probably does help explain a lot about the usage patterns we think we’ve been seeing. Unfortunately, it doesn’t get us any closer to Orgeson, assuming she’s the one really behind this. Or, for that matter, any closer to what ‘baka bakari’ really is!”
“I think it does indicate that it is—or has the potential to become—a really serious problem, though, Olivera,” Chief Shelton said from her com.
“I have to agree with that.” Chuchkova nodded. “Especially if it really was involved in the Chang air car crash. We still aren’t able to prove that linkage, though, and we’re still up against that limitation of budget and manpower. And jurisdiction, for that matter. But despite that, I think I have to get officially involved at this point. It’s not illegal to buy someone a drink, but it is illegal to put any sort of emotion-altering substance into it, and especially in the case of a minor.” She smiled briefly, and with very little humor, at Stephanie. “It doesn’t matter whether or not the ‘emotion-altering substance’ is legal for consensual use, either. And given what you people have had to tell me about this Câmara and Gallego, I will be astonished if they, at least, haven’t seen the date-rape potential for a new, untraceable drug.” There was no humor at all in her expression now. “So I think I have grounds to start looking very closely at our suspects—and Enigmatic Riddle. We do have the minor problem that we can’t find any traces of something like that in Ms. Harrington—Stephanie’s—bloodwork, but the EMTs’ description of her symptoms clearly suggests that something was affecting her physically, and that’s enough reasonable cause for me to at least start looking. Probable cause to justify a warrant, no. Not yet. But if we turn anything up just looking, that could change. So I’ll put some extra surveillance in there—not just more cameras; I’ve got one undercover officer who’d be a perfect fit—and my uniforms will keep an eye on the other clubs. But, frankly, I think your friend Xadrian is more likely to turn up any real evidence.”
“I hope the people who beat up Nosey don’t go after Xadrian!” Stephanie said quickly.
“I don’t think Xadrian’s clumsy enough to get caught poking a nose where it shouldn’t be,” Chuchkova reassured her. “I know her, and we’ll keep an eye peeled where she’s concerned.
“But for now, all we can really do is pursue the ‘endangering a minor’ side of things, and that’s judicially iffy,” she continued, looking at Shelton. “Before we can go any further, we’ve got to be able to demonstrate what this stuff is and how it’s getting from your mushroom research facility to Yawata Crossing. That’s your jurisdiction, not mine, Gary.”
“I know.” Shelton rubbed the tip of his nose, then shrugged. “I know,” he repeated, “and I don’t like how close Steph came to getting hurt last night. But despite that—and I know I’m going to regret saying this—she and Karl and their passel of friends are probably still our best chance of figuring that out. Karl, I think you two need to move your focus back to Twin Forks and chasing down the link between Herman and Câmara and Orgeson, especially if Chief Chuchkova’s going to be able to put some of her people—officially—on the distribution end in Yawata Crossing. I’m going to bring Frank and Ainsley up to speed on what you’ve been doing, and I want you to feel free to use them as a sounding board. We’ve all got our hands way too full for me to pull them off of their regular patrol duties, but they know you—and Stephanie—so we know they’ll take the ‘kids’ seriously, and they’ll be available for backup.
“Aside from telling you to keep doing what you’ve been doing, I don’t have a lot of new advice or direction for you. Make sure you keep me fully in the loop, and I’ll keep Chief Chuchkova up to speed. I know it doesn’t seem that way to you right now, but you’ve actually made a lot more progress than you probably think you have. We know where it’s coming from, how it was discovered, and who first started distributing it. That’s a lot, when you consider where we started. I’m confident you’ll get to the bottom of it all eventually.”
Karl nodded soberly, and so did Stephanie, although she wasn’t all that fond of Chief Shelton’s final adverb. If they didn’t get to the bottom of it sooner than “eventually,” somebody—somebody else, she corrected herself—was going to get a lot worse than just hurt.
Stephanie spent the trip back to Twin Forks considering what to do next. She was glad Chief Shelton was making Frank Lethbridge and Ainsley Jedrusinski available. They were both very good at their jobs, and they were also old friends. They knew her and Karl well enough to trust their judgment as they proceeded, but they’d come running in a hurry if they were needed.
That still left the problem of what rock to turn over next. They could try a different club. They should see if Nosey had come up with any more rumors. But although she didn’t want to admit it to the others, she was getting worried that last night’s fiasco might drive their quarry into hiding, and they’d need to start all over again.
A few days later, Nosey Jones cross-examined Stephanie about the incident at the Enigmatic Riddle. “And this Xadrian says that neither Frank nor Rod have been back to the club since, and the best she can get are rumors that something might have been being experimented with, but that’s it?”
Stephanie rotated her cup of spikethorn tea between her palms and nodded. “Xadrian hasn’t given up, though. She’s also checking other clubs.”
She was about to say more when her uni-link chimed. She glanced down. “Cordelia, and she’s flagged it ‘urgent.’ Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
Stephanie moved to where she could take the call in private.
“Hey, Cordelia, what’s up?”
“I just left Mr. Ack’s, and I’m worried about Herman,” Cordelia said tersely. “I dropped by with some stuff and stayed to chat. He’s still really upset over what happened to Stan, and I think he was lonely. Glynis still hasn’t gotten him a full-time assistant, and he’s alone during the day a lot. I think that gives him too much time to worry and beat himself up over this whole thing.
“Anyhow, Herman welcomes visitors, at least if he isn’t working in one of the contained growing buildings, and we talked for—I don’t know, maybe thirty or forty minutes. I think I cheered him up some and he gave me a big basket of new edible mushrooms to take home to Mom. But then, as he was walking me out with the basket, we heard an air car incoming. Guess who it was?”
“No guess.”
“Dr. Lyric Orgeson and two of her goons. She was all sweetness and light. So were the thugs, best as they could manage, and, well, I moved to where I knew a camera would pick us up. I’ve copied over the feed, and I’m sending.”
Stephanie saw the zipline indicating a download, and said, “Cordy, I’m over at Nosey Jones’s. Can I show him this?”
“Absolutely!”
Stephanie moved back to where Nosey had been waiting without even the least attempt to eavesdrop—incredibly admirable restraint for anyone, but especially for him—and gave him a quick summary.
“Can I link this to your holo projector so we can both watch?”
“Do it!”
A moment later, Cordelia’s shoulder appeared, showing that she’d chosen an angle where the new arrivals would be clearly visible.
Lyric Orgeson extended one hand and smiled as Cordelia stepped forward to shake it. “Cordelia Schardt-Cordova, isn’t it? We met some time ago.”
“Dr. Orgeson, right?” Cordelia said with a very good facsimile of shy and overwhelmed. Stephanie approved.
Polite duty done, Lyric Orgeson turned her attention on Herman. “Hello, Herman. I’m afraid this isn’t a purely social call. Something’s come up back on Manticore, and I’m going to have to catch a shuttle home a lot sooner than I expected. I just thought I’d pop out and see if you’ve decided to take that job I offered you. I don’t like to sound pushy, but we really are running out of time for you to decide. I’m afraid I need to know if you’re still interested.”
Nosey hissed softly under his breath, and Stephanie didn’t need to ask why. While the words were matter-of-fact, something in the tone and emphasis turned what should have been persuasion into a threat.
“Oh, yes.” Herman swallowed, and his eyes flicked ever so briefly in Cordelia’s direction. “I didn’t realize I might need to make a final decision so soon, I’m afraid.”
“Yes, I understand. But, as I say, something’s come up.” Orgeson’s tone never changed, but her eyes hardened slightly.
“I see.” Herman swallowed again. “I didn’t know that, though, and I haven’t spoken with Glynis about it, yet. I don’t think I could justify just walking away and leaving her without an assistant.”
“I can see where that would be inconvenient for her,” Orgeson said. “But I’m sure she can find someone else. And let’s be honest here, Herman. I’m not only offering to pay you more, I’m offering you a job so much less wasteful of all you know.”
Her voice, like her gaze, hardened on the last three words, and alarm flickered in Herman’s eyes.
“Herman, are you really thinking about taking another job?” Cordelia broke in. “The boys and I would really miss you!”
Her interruption diverted Orgeson’s attention from Herman, and annoyance flickered in the older woman’s expression. She banished it quickly, however.
“Well, I’m rather hoping that he is,” she said with another surface-only smile.
“Uh, well, yes. I have been considering that. Really, as it stands, this job here is a dead end, you see. You do see, don’t you? Glynis is an admirable woman in so many ways, but really more an explorer at heart. I have a lot of skills that aren’t being fully, uh, exploited in this job.”
“And I plan to fully exploit him,” Dr. Orgeson purred. “I’m sure he’ll find using his many talents on my behalf so much more rewarding than being stuck here in a jungle on a world that physically drags you down.”
Stephanie knew Cordelia well enough by now to recognize her friend’s irritation at hearing her part of Sphinx called “a jungle,” but she only looked back at Herman.
“Gee, Herman. That does sound like it might be a great deal! But, like I say, we’ll really miss you. Will there be time to throw a proper going away party for you? I’m sure the boys would love to host it.”
“Probably not,” Dr. Orgeson cut in. “As I already said,” she continued, “I’m rather shorter on time than I expected to be. That’s one reason I flew out here, instead of just screening Herman. I wanted to tell him in person, because if he’s taking my offer, he’ll need to start packing… Packing everything he’ll need for his new job. But so sweet of you to think of a party. Really, Sphinx may be an absolutely uncomfortable planet, but the people are so nice, so interested in everything. But you were on your way out, I think. I shouldn’t keep you. Have a lovely day, Cordelia.”
So bluntly dismissed, Cordelia had little choice but to give Herman a finger wave, tell him she hoped he’d like his new job, if he decided to take it, and leave.
The feed continued for only a short while. Lyric Orgeson said, “Lovely child. So very nice to see her again, her and her little cat. Now, Herman, perhaps we can go into your charming cottage and discuss details. There’s a weight allowance, but…”
The rest of the words were lost as the humans moved out of range of the cameras, which had been set to watch the perimeter of the GBMRAC—not specific buildings.
Cordelia’s image took the place of the recorded feed. “Hey, Nosey. Good to see you. What did you guys think of that?”
Stephanie inclined her head to indicate that Nosey should speak first.
“Well,” drawled the Nose for News, “we already knew she’d ‘offered him a job’ cooking up baka bakari for her, but it looks like something’s made her change her timetable. Maybe she’s figured out the Yawata Crossing PD’s keeping a closer eye out for new euphorics and she’s decided she’d feel more comfortable experimenting back on Manticore, where nobody’s likely to be looking over her shoulder.” He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. But it looked like this came as a surprise to Herman?”
He glanced at Stephanie, and she nodded.
“As far as we know, she hasn’t approached him directly since that night Cordy and the Kempers interrupted them.”
“I thought it looked that way,” Nosey said. “And you notice what happened when he suggested he needed to give his current boss a reasonable time to find a replacement? Charming Lyric threatened him with something then, at least by implication. If I had to guess, she was suggesting that she’d make sure everyone found out he was the one who originally developed baka bakari. If she did that, especially if she’s realized it was involved in Stan Chang’s death, and if she added the way he sold early samples to Frank Câmara, she could make Herman look very bad indeed.”
“But Herman is working with us and the SFS, now,” Stephanie pointed out.
“But she doesn’t know that, now does she? She probably figures that while Herman might not be liable for anything criminal, he’d probably find it nearly impossible to get a job in his field here in the Star Kingdom, if the right rumors spread. Even Glynis might find it unwise to keep him on, lest her operation be tainted by association. With all of that, Charming Lyric might not even have seen any need to drop reminders about stupid reporters who got beaten up for sticking their noses in where they shouldn’t have. But then again, she might have, once she got rid of Cordelia. That’s the stick.”
He motioned to Stephanie, which she took as an invitation to fill in the other end of his analysis.
“The carrot is a well-paying job,” she said. “One that pays a lot more than Glynis is paying him. We already know she wants to move him off Sphinx into his own lab, and from what he’s said, she’s dropping hints about publication in his own right, not just as someone else’s lab assistant. And given how much she’s offered to pay him already, I won’t be surprised if she doesn’t offer to cover any penalties he might incur for leaving Glynis without notice.”
“I’m a bit surprised he didn’t take her up on it when she first made the offer,” Nosey said.
“Not me.” Cordelia shook her head. “I think he’d started really regretting getting in so deep with Frank even before Jess and I got him to come clean with us. I don’t think this new move of hers is a reaction to what happened to Stan, either. It might be, but I think if she’d figured that out—that anyone might even suspect baka bakari might be involved, I mean—she’d have made it even sooner.”
“You’re probably right about that,” Stephanie agreed. “And it’s probably a darned good thing—for him, too—that she hasn’t figured that out. And that she doesn’t know about the statements he gave Karl. We still don’t have any proof she actually threatened him, only his unsupported word, but if she had any idea we were looking so closely at her, she’d cut her losses and just disappear right now. Especially if she even guessed he’s voluntarily working with us now.”
“I know.” Cordelia nodded. “And let’s face it, Steph. Herman’s not the bravest guy in the world. I can tell he’s worried she can still get to him somehow, and I hate that.”
“Probably something to that,” Stephanie granted. “But I think he’s really determined to help stop her,” she added, mentally replaying her and Karl’s conversation with Herman. “He really took what happened to Stan hard. And from a more selfish perspective, helping us get on top of this is the one thing that might get her off his back for good, too.”
“I agree!” Cordelia said. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not scared to death of them. And whatever’s going on in his head, I think we have a new problem of our own. Timing.”
“Yeah.” Stephanie nodded. “I wonder if my shenanigans at the Enigmatic Riddle have anything to do with this, because Nosey’s right that it looks like Orgeson’s planning on pulling up stakes here on Sphinx. And if she moves her entire operation back to Manticore, there’s no telling how long it would take for law enforcement there to get back to the point we’re already at. We might still be able to get Frank and any of his local cronies, but if she gets loose with it someplace like Landing…”
“Exactly!” It was Cordelia’s turn to nod vigorously. “And I think that’s exactly what she has in mind, Steph. I’ve kept an eye on the feed from Mr. Ack’s since Lyric and cronies left, but her parting words were another reminder for him to pack everything he’d need.” She imitated the mycologist’s flirty way of speaking to perfection, then sobered. “I’m betting ‘everything’ includes samples for growing all the ingredients in baka bakari. From what I’ve learned, many fungi propagate well in controlled environments. And they’re small. They’re not like, oh, crown oaks or hexapumas or something. It would probably be ultra easy to smuggle out samples and set him up with his own greenhouses on Manticore.”
“They might not even need to smuggle,” Nosey put in. “Control of what goes planet-to-planet isn’t as carefully managed as you’d think it might be. As long as what was being taken wasn’t officially restricted, it might not even be an issue, especially for someone like Dr. Orgeson, who’s here on an R&D visa.”
“Well, we already know we’re not going to let Herman be bullied into taking this ‘offer.’” Cordelia’s tone made it perfectly clear where she stood on that idea.
“No, we’re not,” Stephanie agreed, reviewing all the things she’d learned in her jurisprudence courses. “But we’re going to need to tread carefully. We don’t want Herman to land in the exact sort of trouble Orgeson could still land him in if she manages to deflect blame for what happened to Stan on to him. And we don’t want her getting away, either. But whatever we’re going do instead, we’ve got to come up with it pretty darned fast! And—”
Her uni-link chimed with an incoming call. She looked down at it and grimaced.
“Guess who?” she asked as she tapped the icon to open the new call in a separate window without losing the connection to Cordelia.
“Hello, Herman,” she said.