His face grew noticeably paler. I sat up, thinking he might have found something. "You pick up here." Daniel waved in the direction he'd been staring, "I just got an urgent call from the big guy."

" 'The big guy'?" I asked him, but he didn't hear me. With a shake of my head, I accessed the LINK. I jumped to where we kept the syslog for the Jordan files, looked for Danny's bookmark, and started combing the records for a tiny extra power surge that would betray the hacker's entrance. I had been at it for only a few minutes when Danny interrupted me with a touch on my arm.

Logging off, I gave him my full attention. "What's the matter?"

That's when things got strange, in retrospect. He got all anxious, and he said we should leave – go somewhere more private. Since it was late anyway, and the bar would be closing, I suggested my place.

We got into his car. I could still smell the leather upholstery. Danny drove the slickest thing on the market. Nothing but the top of the line for him. His car screamed "new and improved." I couldn't stand the thing. I ran my finger along the slippery smooth surface of the monstrosity, a creature of chrome and steel. Anytime I was forced to ride in his car, I had the same complaint, "No fucking character."

"What are you saying about my girl? She's got plenty of character ... like a refined lady – elegant, distinguished. Anyway, what's more important – she's got power." Reaching over to pat my knee, he smiled into my face. "Which is more than I can say about your floating boat."

"Boat? I'll have you know my Chevy is a classic. Not like this dime-a-dozen clone." I huffed in mock indignation, as I buckled in and relaxed into our familiar routine. "Besides, power is overrated."

"Hmmmm, I don't know about that." He murmured low and sultry. "Power is awfully sexy."

I looked over at him, surprised at the tone of his voice. His gaze swept the line of my dress. Suddenly self-conscious, I felt naked.

"Yeah, right," I said. My voice sounded stilted in the close atmosphere of the car's interior. I covered my embarrassment, and myself, by tugging on the buckle that crossed my breasts. As the motion of my hands drew his eyes, I reached up and ran my fingers through my hair – willing him to look at my face.

Smiling a wolfish grin, he turned the ignition. The engine sprang to life with a healthy purr. His eyes stayed locked intensely with mine for a strained moment, then he turned his attention to the car.

I rolled my shoulders, relaxing them forcibly. Our teases bordered on the sexual in the past and had never bothered me. We'd been working on this case for too long and in too-close quarters. The nightlong brain-storming exhausted me; I wasn't reading him right anymore. He was in a strange mood, that was all, and I had mistaken the tone in his voice.

As if in confirmation of my thoughts, Daniel gave me a familiar wink. He patted the smooth control panel lovingly, and said, "Listen to that, will you? Just like a kitten."

The near-silent hum of the car's engine made a pleasant change from the sputtering of my Chevy, but I wasn't about to admit that to Danny, "Sure, if you like 'em quiet and unassuming. I prefer the ones with a little more spirit, more gusto, more character."

"Hmmmm, feisty." The look in his eyes told me he wasn't talking about the car anymore. "I'm beginning to see your point."

I'd walked right into that one; my attempt to lighten the mood and return to our old camaraderie ended with another awkward sexual innuendo. I batted at the air between us, trying to dismiss the entire conversation. "Oh, Danny, knock it off. Keep your mind on business, will you?"

"It's hard." In the semidarkness, the black iris of his hooded eyes caught the light of a streetlamp. His handsome features appeared, momentarily, quite feral. "You look sexy tonight."

"You've obviously had too much whiskey, big guy. Maybe I should be driving."

"Okay," he said, "I prefer my women in the driver's seat, anyway."

I'd never seen Danny like this – it was as if he were a totally different person, and not one I trusted. "Pull this car over, right now."

Normally my partner had no trouble recognizing the seriousness of my tone. Instead, Danny just smiled devilishly. He slammed his foot down on the accelerator, and the car leapt forward. Just when I thought he would collide with the cab in front of us, he pulled up into an up-ramp and hit the sirens.

At that point, I realized he intended to scare me. Not willing to give him that satisfaction, I slid into cop mode. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to relax. That's when I noticed his face. His mouth hung open slightly, the way it did when he was on-line and concentrating.

I looked at Mouse, and said, Daniel was jacked in the whole time.

The page's tone was as inscrutable as his expression. Do you have any idea who he was talking to?

For all I know he was accessing Traffic Control.

The end of Mouse's embroidered shawl flapped noisily in the virtual wind. But you doubt it.

I did. I was beginning to believe that whoever stole the biosoftware from Jordan Institute was the one responsible for Daniel's shift in emotions. It was possible that Jordan's R&D had discovered more than just a way to access pain and pleasure, but other emotions as well, and that's what the tech-thieves were after.

Why is Mouse so hot for this story anyway? I'm sure he could read all the details on some bulletin board of mine.

The page watched me intently; his black eyes flicked over my avatar's form. Mouse is curious about who you think did it.

What if I told you I thought it could be Mouse, I said. After all it was possible, especially with what I now knew about mouse.net.

Do you?

The page seemed to want affirmation, but I decided to hold what few cards I had close to my chest. The barter was for half now, Mouse. I've got a date to keep.

I sent the image of my arms crossed in front of my chest. The page's black eyes held mine for a long moment.

All right I'll cause your distraction. Give me twenty minutes from NOW.

A digital countdown appeared in the corner of my vision. How will I know when you've done what you plan to do?

You won't. You're expecting me to trust you, aren't you? Before I could comment, the image shifted. The page discarded the feminine costume for the receptionist gear he wore when we first connected. I hate to be a bad "host," but ...

With the intensity of one of his boomerang viruses, the page snapped me back into real time. The ground rushed away from my feet, and I fell upward through the jumble of the LINK with blinding speed. The information stream crackled lightning-bright behind my eyes. I snapped them open to see Rebeckah kneeling in front of me.

My fingers fumbled for the filament in the helmet. Reaching out, Rebeckah popped the panel on the helmet and grabbed the connection. "You off?"

I nodded mutely, shutting the connections as quickly as I could. With the filament disconnected, Rebeckah gently lifted the helmet from my head. My hair was a mat of sweat, but the fresh air revived me; I took a deep breathe Rebeckah watched me intently. Her usually controlled face showed a hint of concern.

" I'm okay," I croaked. All the liquid in my mouth had evaporated, and my tongue felt heavy and clumsy.

Rebeckah pointed to one of her comrades. "Water," was all she had to say. He returned with a brimming plastic cup before I could even protest.

"Where were you?" Rebeckah's expression hardened now that it appeared I was going to live. "Sharron couldn't finger your ID on the LINK."

"Mouse's hub," I managed around a gulp of water. The muscles in my neck shot pain to my shoulders when I tried to move.