REBOOTS by Mercedes Lackey

Author:Mercedes Lackey
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Microsoft
Published: 2011-11-27T05:00:00+00:00

At least he wasn’t in the hostel. And the “budget” tourist digs were pretty plush for a Were-run establishment. The real money was made in the clubs, on booze and drugs and the careful taste of the Fang and other vices, so the Boggart figured the hotel rooms were intended to make sure you were well rested so you could run right out and repeat all of them as often as possible. This of course didn’t apply to high-rollers; they were milked of every cred they had in as many ways as possible. It was as much status as it was privilege for that sort to spend all they could.

The Boggart had to focus. He needed to at least seem professional for this part. Time to check in with the nanny.

He checked his sidereal time; the Púca would be in the office. Oh well. Might as well give him something other than a message to listen to. Benefit number two: the call went through lightning-fast. Evidently they wanted folks here to be able to brag about the good time they were having to the folks back home as quickly and often as possible to entice other full pockets and empty heads to try the fleshpots as soon as their vacation days came up.

The call connected with a flicker after the third ring. So the Púca had him on forward-direct rather than talk-to-the-secretary-bot. Interesting. Fewer records that way. There was probably a grift with this entire deal; he’d suspected it in the beginning, but hadn’t seen the angle and still couldn’t. Not yet. There was always a grift, in his experience, when you got close-and-personal attention from whomever was passing out the creds.

He nodded at the Púca’s image. “It’s me. Ready for the update? There’s not terribly much, yet.”

“Looks like you’re coming up in the world. You actually have a room, and not a coffin wired for net.” The Púca smirked.

“Needed to justify the expense account you gave me, after all. Besides, places like this require certain behavior in order for somebody like me not to stand out more than necessary.” The Boggart glanced at his pocket watch absently before looking back to the Púca’s visage on the screen. “Anything new on your end of the wire, before we get into what I uncovered?”

“Sorry. The Cenotaph is still missing, and the crew hasn’t turned up anywhere that there are DNA scans. So?” The Púca didn’t look terribly sorry. But then, by his standards, this room was probably on the scale of a no-tell mo-tel. He probably thought the Boggart was still slumming.

“Kicked over some rocks, had words with some beings that I know. The line is quiet on this one.” The Boggart scratched the bridge of his nose, and looked thoughtful. “If it was a ’jacking, then they’ve done really well and really shitty at hiding it.”

The Púca looked confused. “I beg your pardon?”

“Look at it like this. Whatever crew was in on this, they were dumb enough to trip up with the emergency beacon, after setting down on a planet for a good long while.

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