The noodle shop was closed. They had worked so hard and long that night had become early morning. The only thing that would be open now was a Stuffer Shack, and Sam found one three blocks over. The selection was dismal, but he thought a couple of packets of self-warming Nutrisoy soup would at least offer some nutritional value. By the time Sam got back to their squat, Dodger was finishing a run on the public datanet. The Elf looked glum.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

“Genomics. As the name might suggest, the corporation is a cutting-edge biotechnology firm with a specialty in genetic manipulations. As such, one would also expect a cutting-edge security system. I checked with some runners who have reason to know about their ice, and it sounds like only a lengthy siege could get at their corporate architecture from the Matrix. The only way to get the information quickly is if we can get physically inside and then use a corporate machine within the intrusion shield to get the data. Even if we had the force for an assault, without a Matrix overwatch, it could be too risky.”

“But an accredited cyberterminal user could take a side trip and deck into the files.”

“Most likely. But that does not surmount the other difficulty. The firm is headquartered in Quebec.”

“Guess I’m going to Quebec, then.”

Dodger sighed. “What will you do there? You no longer exist, remember? When you were reported dead, your System Information Number was frozen. Without a SIN, you are a nonentity in the corporate world. No air travel to get there. No passport to get in. No cushy corporate job from which to subvert their data.”

Sam would not let this lead escape. “You’ve survived for years outside the corporate structure. That means you’ve found some way around the problem. False identities or fake SINs. Something that gets you past checkpoints.”

“ ’Tis a necessity.”

“Then I’ll need one set up for a researcher. That’s the work I did for Renraku. A busy company like Genomics will always be on the lookout for good researchers.”

“An identity patched together on short notice will not withstand much scrutiny.”

“It won’t have to. Background checks on low-level workers can’t be that thorough, even in Quebec. A day or two to get system codes. Then once inside the IC, I’ll deck into Wilson’s files, get what I can and leave. With what you’ve shown me, I shouldn’t need mow than a week.”

“Parlez-vous français?”

“Good point. I’ll need a language chip, too.”

“Incroyable!” Dodger shook his head in amazement. “Pray tell, Sir Corporate Spy, how are you planning to get there? The free and proud Dominion of Quebec is almost as sensitive about its borders as the Tir.”

“You’re the hot shadowrunner, Dodger. You make the arrangements.”

“Your faith is greater than your bankroll, Sir Mastermind.”

“Then I’ll have to owe somebody some favors.”

“A few days ago, you were bemoaning unknown debts. Today you profess yourself eager to plunge into more.”

Sam tossed their forgotten meal onto the table. He was no longer hungry. “This feels right, Dodger. I just know that Genomics is part of this mess. I’ll get something there that will make sense of what has happened.”

“A premonition? How mystical.”

Sam grimaced. “It’s nothing like that. It’s just a hunch.”

“Then we shall play it out.”

Dodger started to get up, but Sam reached out to lay a band on his shoulder. “No. Not we. After you make the travel arrangements. I want you out of it. I owe you enough already.

Dodger continued to stand against the pressure of Sam’s hand. He stood erect and looked down at Sam, his eyes glittering with emotion. “Sir Twist, you wound me. I am not a shylock to count each penny. You will need me to do the decking.”

“I’ll have to manage. Genomics won’t hire both of us, so there’s no need for both of us to risk our necks.” Dodger started to object again, but Sam cut him off. “Besides, there’s another line to be traced. Drake’s got enough money or backing to hire expensive mercs like Hart, while we’ve only got ourselves. The longer we take finding out what we need to know, the more likely Drake will squirm beyond our reach. If I go to Quebec, I’ll be tied up checking out Genomics. Somebody has to keep on trying to learn Some hard facts about Drake.”

“Why then do you not do it? You have named him as your foe, after all.”

“If Drake’s not based in Seattle, he’s at least working this operation from there. I can slot a chip that will let me speak French, but nothing can make me know the shadows of Seattle like you do. You’re the best man for that job.”

The Elf relaxed his belligerent stance, and a new light entered his eyes. “You trust me to do that work for you?”

“I trust you.”

“Ah, the fierce faith of necessity.”

Sam couldn’t tell how much of Dodger’s comment was companionable jest and how much mocking irony. He didn’t care. He knew the Elf wouldn’t betray him to Drake; Dodger was too committed to the underdog. Sam wanted to believe that their time together had forged a real bond and that the Elf was a friend. His own growing affection for the rogue was real enough. Before this was over, Sam knew, he was going to need all the friends he could get.

29

The service monitor station was cramped and smelled of old sweat, ozone, and the battling forces of mildew and disinfectant. When the aquaculture tanks it monitored had gone on line a month ago, the overwatch had transferred to the main control consoles, leaving the station virtually unused. Crenshaw jiggled the louver of the climate control vents, but the sluggish flow of air did not improve. For all its discomforts this place offered a quiet and privacy rare anywhere in the arcology. With an active computer console, the station was useful enough to her. And Crenshaw liked it here in the dark.

The signal from the motion sensor she’d left near the elevator chimed in her ear receiver, if it was Addison, be was early. When the second sensor chimed, she was sure it was him. The corridor leading to the station would have no other traffic at this hour. The warning signals were close together; he was hurrying, moving at a quick walk.

Probably more nervous than usual.

It was his nervous tendencies that had tipped her off. She had seen his eyes when he accosted Verner at Tanaka’s funeral, and she had smelled his fear when she visited his cubicle in the computer facility a week later, It was her security badge that did it, and such fear of security meant a guilty conscience, That pleased her, for Crenshaw knew she could manipulate him once she learned his secret. Addison was a slug; it hadn’t taken much to find out what he was hiding.