Had she seen him somewhere? She was generally good at remembering faces, but she couldn’t place this one. She put it away and went back to the computer screen. If she chased it, it would elude her. Whatever it was would be visible in time.
The end of the report gave a place where Planetoid researchers could sign up if they were interested in conducting the preliminary research. Whoever got the job would do interviews, create a personality profile and a narrative account of the trial, slated for two weeks hence, for use here if he was convicted.
Her hand paused. She didn’t do research. She was a Teacher, not a note taker. So she always said. Somewhere in the empty room, she heard a scuttling sound.
Are you ready, Jaguar?
The queasiness grew stronger. Her hands moved on the keys, typing her name in.
“Ready when you are,” she answered.
* * * *
The next person to visit the computers was team member Rachel Shofet, who was updating preliminary files for her zone.
Rachel always claimed she hadn’t a bit of empath in her. She was just lucky. In this case, she was utilizing the bank of computers only because her own was getting its annual servicing today. And though she had no idea she’d just missed Jaguar, didn’t notice the keyboards were still warm from her fingers, couldn’t pick up on what an empath would detect as the most obvious signs of her presence, she did notice the Senci case had an applicant for prelimary researcher.
“Jaguar?” she asked it. Something odd there. She’d been both a coworker and friend to Jaguar for many years, and knew she never took research assignments.
Rachel tapped on the desk and thought. She usually sent files electronically to Alex’s computer so he could look at them on his own schedule and dole out assignments accordingly. This one she printed out as hard copy, and walked it upstairs to his office.
She knocked on his door, heard his voice, and stepped inside.
“Hey,” she said, “What’s Jaguar got to do with Dr. Senci?”
Alex, head bent over his computer, regarded her vaguely. “Another riddle?” he asked.
“What?” Rachel said.
“Never mind. What about Jaguar?”
Rachel tossed the paper on his desk. “Look at that,” she said.
He scanned it, saw Jaguar’s name. He also knew she avoided research like the plague, unless it was unofficial research into a topic that tickled her personal fancy. Like the rings of Saturn. Or varieties of mint. Or Greenkeepers.
“What’s he being tried for?” Alex asked.
“Child molestation. Your basic pedophile, it looks like. The Medical Board acts as judiciary panel, but it’s a criminal trial. Toronto’s system is strange.”
“Strange,” Alex agreed. He thought about riddles, like how do you tell the difference between a pedophile and a Greenkeeper.
“What do you think?” Rachel asked. “Why’d she sign up for it?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll ask her tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“We’re going out.”
“Out?”
“To dinner. I’ll ask her. I think.” He paused. Was it protocol to ask why she was lying about her interest in vampires while they were on their first date? He rubbed his hand over his face.
“Going out?” Rachel repeated.
He raised an eyebrow at her, dared her to comment.
Rachel tucked her lower lip under her teeth, then released it. “Oh,” she said. “Then, I can probably have it for you in an hour or so.”
“Did I ask for something, Rachel?”
“No,” she said. “But I figured you’d want the full file on Senci. And I’d suggest that blue shirt with the salamander design on the sleeve. It’s a great color for your eyes.”
She turned and left, while Alex took a moment to thank all available deities that Rachel wasn’t an empath. She was dangerous enough as it was.
Chapter 3
By the time Jaguar left the Planetoid office and got back to her apartment, she felt as if someone had pulled the plug on her energy core. The queasiness was passing, but her fatigue was inexplicable, and the joints in her wrist hurt, as if leaching out poisons. She wondered if she was still getting rid of the toxic waste from her last prisoner, a difficult case. She went to her kitchen and made tea from a blend of cleansing herbs One Bird taught her.
She drank the mix, a bitter tasting remedy, then went directly to her bedroom, stripped off her clothes and wrapped herself in a gold silk bathrobe before she fell onto the bed. She dropped into sleep like a stone, only to be woken repeatedly by a series of disconnected dreams, all of them ugly. They woke her, then woke her again until she stuffed her face into her pillow and groaned, “Christ, just let me sleep, will you?”
She gave it up when a dream of being telecommed by a horse in judge’s robes morphed into her own telecom buzzing, waking her for good. She twisted to her clock. 6 pm. Shit. She hadn’t been in bed that long, had she? She sat up and held her head. At least she felt better. Not nauseated. Not exhausted.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m awake.” She sat up, made sure her robe covered what she wanted covered, went to the telecom and pressed the receive button. Alex’s face appeared on screen.
He scanned her. “Good nap?” he asked.
She ruffled her hair further. “More like adventures in dreamland. What’s up?”
“We are,” he said, “or did you forget?”
She scanned the back of her eyelids for information. What she was booked for. Dinner with Alex. A date.
“You forgot, didn’t you Jaguar?”
“No,” she said. “I just didn’t believe you.”
“You thought I was kidding?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe not. Serious as the plague.”
“Alex, are you sure this is a good idea?”
“No,” he said. “Not at all. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
“We’re taking your wings?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, trying to leave no room for discussion.
“I don’t like wings,” she noted.
He moved his lips away from his teeth in a close approximation of a tolerant smile. “Would you prefer to take your car and meet me at the restaurant?”
