Shadowplay

CELL 4

Late at night in the Nish'mok's personal quarters on the fourth level of the Kasta, a small sleek cat darted from behind a leather divan, ran like black water along the wall and crouched by a cluttered worktable, ears pricked, whiskers twitching. When she was satisfied the silence was going to continue unbroken, she jumped lightly onto the table and nosed through the papers, files, cassettes, and other items scattered about on the polished wood until she found Makwahkik's keypac. She batted it onto the carpet, then stalked tail-high to the board beside his computer outlet. Her tail jerking side to side, she crouched and nosed at the pad, then she raised on her toes and batted at the onswitch. When screen went bright and the outlet started humming she jumped away, then dropped to her stomach and crawled cautiously back; moving awkwardly because control was being forced on her from outside, she hit other keys, entering the Nish'mok's password. When she was done with that, she licked vigorously at her sides, looking up repeatedly at the screen until the run was finished.

Shaking her head angrily, the rider on her brain irritating her more and more, she settled to work, tapping instructions into the outlet, shutting down the security network over certain selected areas of the Kasta.

She stared at the screen until it flashed the endsignal, then she exited the program, turned off the outlet, and leaped to the floor. For several moments she raced wildly about the room, playing with ghosts, then she bit at the keypac until she had it secure in her mouth and went trotting around behind the divan. The POV slid after her, caught the tip of her tail as she vanished into a heating duct whose loosened grill she'd clawed aside.

"Amazing what the girl is able to do with that peculiar Talent." Ginbiryol Seyirshi scratched behind the simi's small round ears; the Pet sighed with pleasure and flattened himself against his owner's chest. "One would think that its scope would be quite narrow."

Ajeri Kilavez crossed her legs and jiggled her foot. "One would think," she said Her voice was slow, slurred, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She wasn't used to endphasing under this much pressure, especially without Puk as balance, and it was undermining her confidence in herself. More important, it was eroding her confidence in Ginbiryol.

He looked swiftly at her, as swiftly away, and seethed with hatred for that interfering girl. Voallts had insulted him and he was going to destroy them for it, but there was none of this corrosive rage in that, it was prudence more than anything else; he didn't leave enemies behind him. Her he wanted in his hands, his own hands. Urgently, passionately, he WANTED her. He glared at Cell 1; Shadith was stretched out on the top bunk ostensibly asleep, her face a map of her efforts, grimacing, twisting, continually shifting expression. He was tempted to send the mercs after her, but he resisted, it would throw everything into chaos; he might get some good footage, but he couldn't control the outcome. Let the Schema run its course, let her play the role he chose for her. That would have to do him. He set the simi aside and swung the chair around to take a look over other developing scenes.