Rook Venner wasn't the sort who remembered his dreams much. Since his bout of chipsickness that was something to be thankful for. But he was dreaming now and this dream was oddly powerful. It had color, mostly grey, sometimes blue, and a deepening darkness.

He was struggling to move through a deep, warm place, a cave, a tunnel. Was it underwater? Were his feet trapped in mud? It was very hard to move them.

He felt that he was being hunted, but he didn't know who, or even what, was doing the hunting. The stuff he stepped in was soft and clinging, and it grew deeper with every stride and he could barely move a muscle. And it was warm, and growing warmer, and there was something, maybe vegetation, that wrapped around him and slowed him down. And the hunters were closing in.

It was really getting desperate. He could feel the hunters though he couldn't see them, but he couldn't move. He was trapped. There was panic, terror, there was no escape.

Whereupon he finally woke up, sharp and sudden. He was on the couch, but he wasn't alone. Snuggled tightly against him, molded to his back and thighs was little Plesur, snoring softly. He could feel those heavy, perfect breasts pressing against the small of his back, while a perfectly proportioned thigh had been laid across his legs. Her arms were wrapped around his waist.

He recalled the dream. No wonder it'd been so intense and claustrophobic, Plesur had just about immobilized him. Moving carefully, so as not to wake her he turned over, freed his arms and legs and let her head rest on his chest. She continued to snore, a gentle snore, as pretty in its way as the rest of her.

He had some pins and needles in his right leg and he stretched it out to shake them off. A glance at the wall screen brought up the time, almost two. He'd been asleep for about four hours. He wondered how long Plesur had left him alone, before migrating out here to the couch. She obviously preferred company.

Again he felt a strong sense of protectiveness. He shook his head. This could only land him in trouble. Plesur had no rights. She was just a piece of evidence. When the case was over she would vanish, most likely into the grey market for pleasure models.

And this was going to cause him some anguish. His emotional self was engaged here and it was impossible for him to see little Plesur as just a "thing", a creature that could be disposed of like a stray dog.

So what he do to protect her?

Not fucking much, was the cold, clear answer.

An SIO counted for only just so much in the scheme of things. If he couldn't get Lisa Artoli on his side then there wouldn't be anything, really, he could do. And that thought gnawed at him, because he'd already seen that the whole question of a Pleasure Model was something that Lisa shied away from. Wouldn't she just wash her hands and move on? Christ, there were always new cases, new problems, new horrors to deal with. Like the ongoing gang war between the Boyz and the Unio in Pok (Poughkeepsie). Sixteen dead kids already this year, one of them only eleven.

Give it a few days and who'd remember little Plesur? No matter what happened to her.

Well, Rook would, for one. But there didn't seem to be anything he could do to change her fate. She was made for a purpose and made terribly well. Powerful men would want her.

Outside somewhere an unusally heavy car engine growled through the dark, shifting gears on the road from Frog Hollow. Lights washed over the windows at one point, telling him the car was on the extension road, coming this way. Traffic at this time of night was unusual.

He got up, and pulled on his trousers, shirt and shoulder harness. The feel of the gun was comforting. Plesur was still asleep.

His security lights went on, and the Nokia spoke up.

"There is an armored vehicle approaching the house."

"Military?"

"Unknown. It's a National, the 550 model."

National Car Company, the last ditch effort to save Detroit, long since out of the consumer market, but still favored by the Pentagon and Governments for armored limousines.

He clicked a call to Lisa Artoli. She wasn't picking up and he got her v-mail instead.

"It's 2 am and I have unknown visitors arriving in an armored 550. Just in case I disappear tonight, okay?"

He imagined Lisa listening to this and doing her best to ignore it.

"The vehicle has stopped;" he added. "Two men are approaching the door."

Rook slipped on his jacket and shoes. He preferred to go to his fate with his clothes on. He left Plesur snoring, for the moment.

"They're human?" he checked with Ingrid.

"Some neuromorphic enhancements, but nothing military."

"Weapons?"

"One carries a sidearm, make and caliber unknown."

"Deployed?"

"No."

The doorbell rang, a soft chime. Plesur woke up with a start.

"It's okay, Plesur, someone's here."

"Man?"

"Just put some clothes on, honey."

After a few blinks, Plesur seemed to reconnect herself with recent events. She got up, stretched beautifully and went back to the bedroom.

A tall, grim faced gent in a black leather raincoat stood there. He eyed Rook silently while holding up a hand-scanner. Green laser light flicked over Rook and the room behind him.

"It's just the two of them," said the man a couple of seconds later. A second man, much shorter, wearing a pale blue silk suit and white shoes came up the steps.

The man in the blue suit had a round, boyish face framed in silvery curls and dominated by big blue eyes.

"SIO Venner?" he said in a somewhat high pitched voice.

"Yes."

"Sorry to barge in on you like this, but we're here to save your life."

"You are?"

"Yes, you're in a bit of a fix, my friend. Did our best to get here earlier but it took us a while to get some transport. Anyway, we can't talk now. Just come with us, and bring the little Pleasure Model, will you? Come right now and we'll all be okay."

Anxiety was pouring off this guy along with his expensive personal fragrance.

"Unh, what's going on?"

"Killers are on their way. They'll be here in a few minutes. A very few minutes. We don't have time to talk."

"Who are these killers?"

"Their exact identities? I have no idea. But they are going to kill you, and the Pleasure Model, to prevent you getting any deeper into the Sangacha case."

Rook sucked in a breath. The snake wrapped around the fucking hornets' nest. He'd known, he'd damned well known.

"Who are you?"

"You know, it would be much more sensible to talk about everything once we're in the car and getting the fuck out of here. There's a Shark-Class gunship on its way, there won't be the slightest chance of arguing with them once they arrive."

"So I have to just, like, trust you?"

"You do. Yes."

Plesur was at his side.

"Hello, Plesur," said the man in the white shoes.

"Hello," she said in return, trying to smile, obviously confused, a little afraid.

Rook looked from the guy in the white shoes to the tall, grim faced one. He had no idea who they were, but if he made a mistake here he was going to die. That, at least, was what they were telling him.

"So what you're saying is either I trust you or we get killed?"

"Exactly, and the clock is ticking."

Rook hoped he wasn't making the worst mistake of his life. But the man seemed to know what he was talking about.

As they walked to the big National SUV, the tall man in the leather coat spoke up. "He's carrying a gun."

"That's alright, Oakes. He's a policeman, they all carry guns."

The doors opened automatically. Oakes got in the front compartment, and sat next to the driver, while Rook, Plesur and the man in the white shoes got into the capacious rear space.

It was all white leather, light blue carpeting and pink lights.

"Please excuse the poor taste, this was the only car I could get."

The big vehicle reversed, swung around and now it accelerated down the mountain at considerable speed. Plesur clutched at Rook and squealed.

"Too fast."

"Three minutes," a neutral sounding voice announced from hidden speakers.

"Can we, uh, hurry the fuck up, then," said white shoes.

Now he turned to Rook. "I'm Freddy Marion, you may have heard of me."

Rook stared, thoughts whirling."Yeah, I tried to return your call."

"Yes, that was very good of you. It's been a crazy day. For you too, I suspect."

Rook nodded, he was feeling very nervous. "The Sangacha thing is unusual."

"That, my friend, is the understatement of the month."

Freddy had pulled a couple of items out of his pocket. Now he handed them to Rook.

"If you'll just clip that round one to your belt, and put the other one around your neck."

They were small black discs, one on a light chain, the other with a clip on its side.

"Faraday cage/"

"Yes. You're chipped and the killers can read New York Police Chips."

That was chilling news. Rook put the chain around his neck and clipped the other unit to his belt.

They were at the bottom of the hill road, the car turned right.

"Uh, you sure you want to go that way? Just goes to Frog Hollow."

"Yes, but there's a bridge. We need to hide. You should fasten your seat belts."

"There's a big radar trace coming over the ridgeline," said the guy in the front seat. "Right on course for the hill behind us."

"You have to hand it to Persefony," said Freddy. "She always gets these things right."

The limo whipped around the tight curves of the road to Frog Hollow at a speed upwards of eighty miles an hour. It wasn't a comfortable process and several times Rook and Plesur were thrown hard against their seat belts while rubber screamed on the crapped out asphalt underneath.

Then they were off the road, crashing through thickets down into the stream bed of the Kupfer Kill.

"Ten seconds," said the voice from the front.

And the limo slid under the Frog Hollow bridge.

"Four, three, two, one..."

A heavy thudding of rotors slid past overhead.

"There, I think we're safe," said Freddy. "We'll know in about two seconds."

"We will?"

"Sure. Because if they tracked us that's how long it'll take for the missiles to reach us."

Rook tensed, waiting for death, his eyes sought Plesur's, she didn't understand what was happening, but was aware that it was scary. She was frightened, therefore, and looked to him for reassurance. He tried to smile, wasn't sure he was succeeding from her reaction.

Seconds crawled by. Freddie had pulled out a little blue tube, six inches long. He stuck it between his lips like a cigar and inhaled. Rook's lips compressed. Narcosuma was a popular street drug, a powerful pseudo-opioid. He was surprised by this open, illegal use.

Freddy sighed, then offered the blue plastic tube to Rook.

"Good for the nerves in situations like this.'

"Uh, no, uh, thanks."

More seconds passed.

"What's going on?" said Rook.

"We have to wait a little longer. Mustn't offer up a heat signature too soon."

"Tell me something, who are they?"

Freddy looked up at the gaudy upholstered ceiling and shook his head as if in profound disappointment.

"Complicated question. Some very naughty people, who ought to know better. When this is over they're going to get such a spanking from my Auntie."

Rook's bafflement must have been very obvious. Freddy took the Narcosuma tube out of his mouth again.

"Let's just say there are rogue elements in the family, okay?"

"Should I call my boss? Tell her what's happening?"

"Artoli? Hmmm, no, not yet. Her lines are probably covered. Wait until I can get you a completely secure line."

Freddie checked his wrist unit. "They won't hang around long now, once they're convinced that you're not home."

Rook was still seeking clarity in the murk. "This is all down to the Sangacha murder?"

"Yes, of course. The situation is complicated, but, believe me, I've been working flat out on this case myself, from the other end of the telescope, if you see what I mean. But you'll see, I'm going to show you my own special witness."

"Yeah? And where will we find, uh, her, or him?"

"In the city. Not at all where you'd expect, either."

There was a sudden bright flash of light from up the hill. For a moment the stones of the Frog Hollow bridge stood out clear as day through the window.

"Oh, that's vengeful of them," muttered Freddy.

There was a heavy thud, a vibration that shook the car. A deep boom echoed through the damp air.

Rook stared at the slender man in the incredibly expensive, blue silk suit.

"I'm afraid, SIO Venner, that you can't go home anymore."

"Yeah?"

"That is, you have no home to go to, if you see what I mean."

Rook stared out the window. It was absolutely black now. His house, his possessions, his life, all gone, just like that.

"Big trace is climbing away, heading due east," said Oakes from the front.

"Hmmm. probably going to Kingston to see if you're at the station."

Rook digested that for a moment. "And where are we going?"

"There's a little airfield nearby, a place called Mettacahonts. My ride is waiting there."