after he got out on parole, Akiko killed him."
Alma 's heart skipped a beat as she heard how the murder was committed. Involuntarily touching a hand to her throat, she wondered if Akiko had also been framed.
"How do they know Akiko did it?" she asked. "Was she convicted on the basis of DNA fingerprinting?"
Once again, Ajax scanned between the lines. "You're suggesting that it might have been another Superkid from Batch Alpha, right?" he asked. He shook his head. "But that wasn't it. Akiko killed the man in front of a bar filled with witnesses, then sat down at his table to wait until the police arrived. When they arrested her, she presented them with a signed confession she'd prepared in advance—that's what got her the first-degree charge. She's a murderer, all right."
He refilled his sake cup and sighed. "It makes me wonder about the rest of us."
Alma nodded, thinking about the shadowrunner and the gruesome way in which Gray Squirrel had been killed. When Alma finally located the Superkid who had framed her, she wondered what sort of demon she'd find.
4
Treading
So far, so good. Akira Kageyama had bought the excuse, and Night Owl was in. As she rode the elevator down to his underwater condoplex, she cradled the plastic packing case in her hands. She didn't want the contents to break. Not yet.
The elevator was studded with four round portholes, allowing her to look out through the stainless-steel, open-mesh tube that was the elevator shaft. The rain-splattered surface of Burrard Inlet was already high overhead, and the water was rapidly darkening from green-gray to black. Dark blurs that were either large fish or seals swept past the elevator shaft, and a clump of seaweed that had been caught on the bottom of the elevator bubbled its way to the surface. Inside the elevator, all Night Owl could hear was the steady whir of machinery and the soft hiss of circulating air. As she leaned back against the rear wall, the empty holster dug into the small of her back. She felt naked without her handgun—but "naked" was the only way you could hope to enter the dragon's den.
That's what the condoplex was—literally. Built back in the 2050s, it was designed to be one of the many residences of Dunkelzahn, the great dragon who had earned far more than his fifteen minutes of fame after being elected president of the UCAS in 2057. The worm had built the condoplex on a whim, just offshore from the expensive waterfront properties of West Vancouver, after reading in a Chinese storybook that dragons lived in crystal palaces under the sea. This particular whim had cost nearly twenty million nuyen to build, and he never did get the chance to move into it. Just a few months after it was completed, the Big D was flatlined. Later, it turned out that he'd willed the Vancouver doss to one Akira Kageyama, a "financial advisor" who'd been chummers with the big worm.
Street buzz had it that some of the artworks in the condoplex were priceless—and not just because they were old. The first time Night Owl had visited this doss, she'd nearly salivated at the thought of boosting something from the hoard, which was rumored to contain more than one magical focus. She'd been smart enough, that time, to realize that you didn't tread on the tail of a dragon—even one that was five years dead. But now she was going to do just that.
Walls slid up around the elevator as it clunked to a stop at the bottom of the shaft. The door slid open, and Night Owl's ears popped as the pressure equalized. She stepped out onto a plush carpet, between walls of frosted glass.
Night Owl had prepared for this run by popping a hearing amplification plug inside her right ear; she didn't want anyone sneaking up on her when she was boosting the statue. Through the amp, she could hear the distant sound of water dripping. The condoplex was plagued with leaks; Kageyama had spent hundreds of thousands of nuyen over the past five years trying to get rid of them, but as soon as
Alma 's heart skipped a beat as she heard how the murder was committed. Involuntarily touching a hand to her throat, she wondered if Akiko had also been framed.
"How do they know Akiko did it?" she asked. "Was she convicted on the basis of DNA fingerprinting?"
Once again, Ajax scanned between the lines. "You're suggesting that it might have been another Superkid from Batch Alpha, right?" he asked. He shook his head. "But that wasn't it. Akiko killed the man in front of a bar filled with witnesses, then sat down at his table to wait until the police arrived. When they arrested her, she presented them with a signed confession she'd prepared in advance—that's what got her the first-degree charge. She's a murderer, all right."
He refilled his sake cup and sighed. "It makes me wonder about the rest of us."
Alma nodded, thinking about the shadowrunner and the gruesome way in which Gray Squirrel had been killed. When Alma finally located the Superkid who had framed her, she wondered what sort of demon she'd find.
4
Treading
So far, so good. Akira Kageyama had bought the excuse, and Night Owl was in. As she rode the elevator down to his underwater condoplex, she cradled the plastic packing case in her hands. She didn't want the contents to break. Not yet.
The elevator was studded with four round portholes, allowing her to look out through the stainless-steel, open-mesh tube that was the elevator shaft. The rain-splattered surface of Burrard Inlet was already high overhead, and the water was rapidly darkening from green-gray to black. Dark blurs that were either large fish or seals swept past the elevator shaft, and a clump of seaweed that had been caught on the bottom of the elevator bubbled its way to the surface. Inside the elevator, all Night Owl could hear was the steady whir of machinery and the soft hiss of circulating air. As she leaned back against the rear wall, the empty holster dug into the small of her back. She felt naked without her handgun—but "naked" was the only way you could hope to enter the dragon's den.
That's what the condoplex was—literally. Built back in the 2050s, it was designed to be one of the many residences of Dunkelzahn, the great dragon who had earned far more than his fifteen minutes of fame after being elected president of the UCAS in 2057. The worm had built the condoplex on a whim, just offshore from the expensive waterfront properties of West Vancouver, after reading in a Chinese storybook that dragons lived in crystal palaces under the sea. This particular whim had cost nearly twenty million nuyen to build, and he never did get the chance to move into it. Just a few months after it was completed, the Big D was flatlined. Later, it turned out that he'd willed the Vancouver doss to one Akira Kageyama, a "financial advisor" who'd been chummers with the big worm.
Street buzz had it that some of the artworks in the condoplex were priceless—and not just because they were old. The first time Night Owl had visited this doss, she'd nearly salivated at the thought of boosting something from the hoard, which was rumored to contain more than one magical focus. She'd been smart enough, that time, to realize that you didn't tread on the tail of a dragon—even one that was five years dead. But now she was going to do just that.
Walls slid up around the elevator as it clunked to a stop at the bottom of the shaft. The door slid open, and Night Owl's ears popped as the pressure equalized. She stepped out onto a plush carpet, between walls of frosted glass.
Night Owl had prepared for this run by popping a hearing amplification plug inside her right ear; she didn't want anyone sneaking up on her when she was boosting the statue. Through the amp, she could hear the distant sound of water dripping. The condoplex was plagued with leaks; Kageyama had spent hundreds of thousands of nuyen over the past five years trying to get rid of them, but as soon as
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