the combat variant heard the rattle of an approaching carriage and saw the conveyance pull into the brightly lit area in front of the hall. There was no way to know who the passenger or passengers were, but they must have been important, because once the doorman blew his brass whistle, all manner of staff boiled out to greet the newly arrived guest or guests. Which was exactly what Shaz had been hoping for. In their eagerness to catch a glimpse of the woman who was exiting the coach, the guards missed the momentary shimmer associated with the operative’s passing and remained unaware as the variant made his way across the lobby toward the front desk. The next part was somewhat tricky, because even though Shaz knew the people he was interested in were staying at the hall, he had no idea which room or rooms they were in. So, conscious of the fact that the hustle and bustle associated with the VIP’s arrival wouldn’t last much longer, the variant made his way around the end of the counter, and sidled up behind the burly receptionist. His opportunity came as the newly arrived guest made her grand entrance. Whereas most runners preferred to maintain a low profi?le, lest they be targeted by members of the thief’s guild, this individual was an extremely obvious exception. She wore a glittery headband, complete with a red feather, and a bright green dress, all meant to impress her upscale clientele, or so Shaz assumed. But, rather than ogle the woman’s considerable cleavage, as the receptionist was doing, the operative examined the guestbook instead. And, when he couldn’t fi?nd what he sought, Shaz had to fl?ip the current page out of the way in order to inspect previous entries. That was when the variant saw Rebo’s signature, followed by Norr’s, and the nearly illegible scrawl that probably belonged to the heavy. Shaz took in the fact that the threesome had taken suite 303, and was already backing away, when the receptionist turned to pull the guestbook over in front of him. He noticed that the ledger was turned to the wrong page, assumed that an errant breeze had been responsible for the change, and wondered what the woman in front of him would look like naked.
A scant fi?ve minutes later the combat variant had climbed three fl?ights of stairs, made his way down a long hall, and was standing with his ear to a door with the numerals 303 on it. Then, having waited for a full minute without hearing any activity within, Shaz made use of a pick to open the lock. Having glanced both ways to make sure the hall was clear, the variant pushed the door open and slipped into the room. Once inside, the operative discovered that the suite was not only dark but momentarily empty, which suited his purposes well. The possibility that the AI was there, resting within a few feet of him, caused the variant’s heart to beat faster. The search began. Rebo yawned as he led the other two up the broad fl?ight of stairs, tried to remember which room he and Crowley had stayed in thirty years earlier, and couldn’t. Once on the third fl?oor he turned to the right. Wall-mounted lamps marked off regular intervals and threw pools of light onto the fl?oor. Once in front of 303, the runner inserted his key into the lock and turned it. The door swung open. The next couple of minutes were spent fumbling with matches and fi?nicky lamps. “Bring them to me,” Norr offered, having mastered the process. “And I’ll light them for you.”
Hoggles nodded gratefully, went to remove one of the lamps from a wall bracket, and swore when it burned his fi?ngers. “Damn! That thing is hot!”
Rebo frowned, slid his hand in under his jacket, and wrapped his fi?ngers around the Crosser. “Hot? Why would it be hot?”
“Because it was lit,” Logos grated contemptuously. “Check the bedrooms. I predict that someone came to turn the beds down.”
“He’s right,” Norr confi?rmed, as she peered into her room. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep.”
Having taken refuge in one corner of the sitting room, Shaz stood perfectly still and strove to defocus his mind. Because just as combat variants had been provided with the means to fool the eye, they had also been equipped to evade detection by sensitives, but only if they exercised perfect control over both their thoughts and emotions. Now, having discovered that Norr not only had the AI, but was wearing the device, the operative was hard-pressed to contain a sense of jubilation. Fortunately, there were things to worry about as well—which meant Shaz could use one emotion to counter the other. What to do? Attack the threesome and attempt to steal what he had come for, or escape and follow them? Though of value to the Techno Society in and of himself, Logos would be worth even more if they knew where Socket was, and given his present frame of mind, the AI wasn’t likely to tell them.
In the end it was that, plus the fact that Shaz couldn’t be absolutely sure that he would win what would almost certainly be a hard-fought battle, that helped to make up the variant’s mind. Rather than attack the AI’s custodians, the operative resolved to follow them to Socket, where he could take both prizes at the same time. Assuming he could escape, that is—which was anything but certain. Norr was just about to bid the others good night and enter her room, when she sensed something strange. The almost indiscernible glow was similar to the aura that all living beings generated, yet different somehow, as if partially shielded. The sensitive opened her mouth, and was about to comment on the phenomenon, but never got to do so as Milos Lysander took control of her physical body. The invading spirit preferred male plumbing but had occupied this body on previous occasions and gradually grown accustomed to it. “He’s in the corner!” the dead scientist proclaimed loudly, as he pointed at the spot where Shaz was hiding.
“Grab him!”
But neither Rebo nor Hoggles was expecting such an order and, when they turned to look at the corner in question, saw nothing more than a vague shimmer.
That brief moment of hesitation was all the combat variant needed. He crossed the room, opened the door, and was already in the hall by the time Rebo went to probe the empty corner. The runner turned as the door slammed. Hoggles moved as if to follow, but Lysander shook Norr’s head. “Don’t bother,” the dead man said disgustedly. “You blew the only chance you’re likely to get.”
“Lysander?” Rebo inquired irritably. “Is that you?”
“Of course it’s me!” the disincarnate replied testily.
“Who else would it be?”
“Wonderful,” Logos said sarcastically. “The megalomaniac returns.”
“Look who’s talking,” the dead scientist responded resentfully. “I don’t remember you speaking up for the huddled masses back when you were in control of the star gates.”
“Stop it,” Rebo ordered tersely. “We don’t have time for this crap. Someone was in the room . . . So who is he? And what was he after?”
“His name is Shaz,” Lysander answered. “Back before Kane got killed, he functioned as Tepho’s bodyguard and enforcer. Then, when Kane passed over, the chairman promoted him.”
Hoggles frowned. “Why couldn’t we see him?”
“Because he’s a combat variant,” the dead scientist explained.
“Perfect,” Rebo commented sourly. “Not only did the Techno Society manage to locate us—they sent an operative who can make himself invisible.”
