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“Sorry, buddy,” I said, replacing my boot. “Not tonight.” Redressed and ready, I stepped into the hallways, looking for the base of Conii’s operation.
I stepped into the first open door I found. It was full of random-looking items. Fur coats, diamonds, and high-end dog collars. Then it hit me. These were the items stolen from Mrs. Perkins's house. Conii must have sent her goons when the old woman was at the groomer. These items were either waiting for sale or already the property of someone else.
My outfit for this operation had one limitation. No pockets. No pockets meant no percomm and no way to photograph evidence. I needed something concrete to connect Conii to the burglary. I stared down at a dog collar encrusted with diamonds in the signature neon green of the diamonds of Io.
“Looks like you’re coming with me,” I said. Slipping the collar around my calf, I tucked it into the top part of my boot. I needed to keep looking.
I partially opened the door, looking out to see if the coast was clear. I didn’t hear anyone and stepped into the hallway and the next room. My heart froze when I saw that I had walked straight into a security room, full of monitors.
Pulse pounding in my ears, I slid to the side to hide behind a rack of equipment, hoping that the stupid boots wouldn’t click against the floor.
But the two Quilthar thugs were engrossed in one of the screens before them. A quick glance showed me why.
On a slender table in the middle of the room, a Darthian danced, translucent veils flying off her body, each one snatched in mid-air by the watching crowd.
The scene was silent on the monitor, but you felt the erotic energy, even through the screen.
“Sucks we’re stuck down here watching the party on screens.”
“That’s the job, man.”
While they were distracted, I took a chance to scope out the rest of the complex. What else was Conii watching?
Common areas and hallways flicked by, the screens rotating through images of guests obviously having a good time, servers scurrying through the passageways, the kitchen, and back again in a dizzying blur.
Every so often, a closed door filled the screen, dark gray metal dull and heavy, its only decoration a single number. “Forty-three,” I murmured. What did mean?
There was no time to figure it out. Watch the patterns, learn where the cameras are, what order the guards are watching everything.
It was just gathering information. I could do this. Fists balled so tightly my nails pressed into my palms, I slowed my breathing, making myself calm down and pay attention.
Long minutes ticked by as I forced the pattern into my memory, until a sudden movement from the guards snapped me to attention.
“Show me lock screen fifteen,” one of the men said. As he pushed the button and the room came up on the screen, I saw my target at last. Conii’s main office. Couldn’t miss it. Fur rug on the floor. Oversized synth fireplace. What I was looking for had to be there if nowhere else.
When both men started arguing about which caterer was the hottest, I knew it was my moment. Once I was outside the door, I had to move carefully before either of them saw me on the screens.
As soon as I entered Conii’s office, I grabbed the largest poker I could and set it inside the synth flame. In seconds, it became bright blue. Once it was ready, I walked it to where I knew the hidden camera hung and mashed it into the tech until it showed no more signs of life.
“Okay, Amber,” I told myself, running to the desk and rummaging through the drawers. “You’ve got less time than you think.”
One drawer wouldn’t open, but the poker made a great lever, prying it open.
And there they were. Data crystals. Dozens of them. I stopped for a moment, thinking.
They could be nothing more than a list of birthdays of her guards, letters to old friends.
But this was Conii we were talking about. There had to be something we could use. Ryrik could sort through them later.
Ripping the sleeve from my top, I rolled the chips inside and stuffed them down my boot. Not exactly comfortable, but there wasn’t time to think of anything else. Time was running out. Even as distracted as the guards were by the… livelier aspects of the party, they’d notice the broken camera soon enough.
I just needed to stay calm, keep moving, and hope my luck held out.
Dammit.
That was too much to ask for, wasn’t it?
Walking back to the stairwell, I found a guard waiting for me at the top, eyes narrowed. And not just a guard. The Nazok who had been so eager to ‘scan me’ at the entrance.
