one leak was patched, another appeared. The sound set Night Owl's nerves on edge. Being underwater already made her claustrophobic enough.
All of the interior walls in the condoplex were on rollers and could slide back and forth like the rice-paper screens in Japanese houses. Kageyama had rearranged his entrance hall so that it was long and narrow, leading to double doors that had an elaborate dragon design sandblasted on them. Somehow, the dragon seemed to breathe fire: tiny sparks of red flickered out of its nostrils and spread in a fan shape through the glass, then slowly faded away. Each of its hands appeared to be holding a doorknob that had been set with an enormous pearl.
A drone rolled to a stop in front of her, just outside the elevator. It extended a telescoping pole topped with what looked like an octagonal mirror, framed in red plastic. When the "mirror" reached Night Owl's eye level, the monitor screen shimmered into life as Kageyama's image appeared on it.
The first time she'd met Kageyama, Night Owl had been struck by how ordinary he looked. She'd expected Vancouver's best-known millionaire to be as flamboyant and striking as the condoplex he'd inherited. But Kageyama had a face that would have blended into any crowd. His straight, blue-black hair was neat and short, his face was neither too round nor too narrow, his eyes a nondescript shade of green.
""Konichiwa , Night Owl," he said. "I like the mask you've painted on yourself tonight. The silver becomes you. Does that case hold the egg?"
Night Owl nodded and flipped open the hasps that held the packing case shut. She knew better than to hide anything inside the case; Kageyama might trust her, but he wasn't so stupid that he let large packages into his home without seeing what was inside. Setting the case carefully down on the ground, she opened its lid so that the drone's security camera could scan the contents.
The drone's cameras tilted, allowing the camera to get a better angle of the egg that was nested in a bed of spongelike foam inside the case. About the size of a football, the oval egg had a leathery surface and an iridescent sheen. Lighter patches on the surface bulged outward slightly, like weak spots in an overinflated ball. Waves of heat shimmered in the air above the egg, courtesy of a chemical heat pad Night Owl had placed underneath it.
"What kind do you think it is?" Night Owl asked. "Chimera? Firedrake? Leatherback turtle?"
She glanced up at the drone's monitor screen and saw that Kameyaga's pupils had dilated. Got him , she thought. She already knew what was in the case: the egg of something called a Lambton lizard, boosted from an illicit apothecary shop in Chinatown that dealt in black-market animal parts. She'd already told Kageyama where the egg had come from. What she'd failed to mention was that it was long since dead. A healthy spray coating of scent-receptor-blocking agents was masking its odor.
"It warrants a closer look," Kageyama said. "Follow the drone."
Night Owl closed the case and cradled it in her arms as she followed the drone. It led her through the double doors—which opened automatically—and into the maze of rooms and corridors that followed.
All of the walls, ceilings and floors in the condoplex were made of glass. Most of the floor was either carpeted or frosted for privacy, but there was the occasional patch of clear glass that gave a view down into the level below. Crossing them was like walking on air. Other clear patches looked down into aquariums filled with gigantic gold and white koi.
Some of the sliding panes of glass were set with geometric chunks of red or green or blue glass that glittered like multifaceted gems. Other walls were constructed from double panes of glass through which swirling currents of plankton-laden water flowed, glowing a soft blue—a living barrier against astral intrusion.
The rooms were filled with antique furniture: enormous, mirror-fronted wardrobes, velvet-upholstered
All of the interior walls in the condoplex were on rollers and could slide back and forth like the rice-paper screens in Japanese houses. Kageyama had rearranged his entrance hall so that it was long and narrow, leading to double doors that had an elaborate dragon design sandblasted on them. Somehow, the dragon seemed to breathe fire: tiny sparks of red flickered out of its nostrils and spread in a fan shape through the glass, then slowly faded away. Each of its hands appeared to be holding a doorknob that had been set with an enormous pearl.
A drone rolled to a stop in front of her, just outside the elevator. It extended a telescoping pole topped with what looked like an octagonal mirror, framed in red plastic. When the "mirror" reached Night Owl's eye level, the monitor screen shimmered into life as Kageyama's image appeared on it.
The first time she'd met Kageyama, Night Owl had been struck by how ordinary he looked. She'd expected Vancouver's best-known millionaire to be as flamboyant and striking as the condoplex he'd inherited. But Kageyama had a face that would have blended into any crowd. His straight, blue-black hair was neat and short, his face was neither too round nor too narrow, his eyes a nondescript shade of green.
""Konichiwa , Night Owl," he said. "I like the mask you've painted on yourself tonight. The silver becomes you. Does that case hold the egg?"
Night Owl nodded and flipped open the hasps that held the packing case shut. She knew better than to hide anything inside the case; Kageyama might trust her, but he wasn't so stupid that he let large packages into his home without seeing what was inside. Setting the case carefully down on the ground, she opened its lid so that the drone's security camera could scan the contents.
The drone's cameras tilted, allowing the camera to get a better angle of the egg that was nested in a bed of spongelike foam inside the case. About the size of a football, the oval egg had a leathery surface and an iridescent sheen. Lighter patches on the surface bulged outward slightly, like weak spots in an overinflated ball. Waves of heat shimmered in the air above the egg, courtesy of a chemical heat pad Night Owl had placed underneath it.
"What kind do you think it is?" Night Owl asked. "Chimera? Firedrake? Leatherback turtle?"
She glanced up at the drone's monitor screen and saw that Kameyaga's pupils had dilated. Got him , she thought. She already knew what was in the case: the egg of something called a Lambton lizard, boosted from an illicit apothecary shop in Chinatown that dealt in black-market animal parts. She'd already told Kageyama where the egg had come from. What she'd failed to mention was that it was long since dead. A healthy spray coating of scent-receptor-blocking agents was masking its odor.
"It warrants a closer look," Kageyama said. "Follow the drone."
Night Owl closed the case and cradled it in her arms as she followed the drone. It led her through the double doors—which opened automatically—and into the maze of rooms and corridors that followed.
All of the walls, ceilings and floors in the condoplex were made of glass. Most of the floor was either carpeted or frosted for privacy, but there was the occasional patch of clear glass that gave a view down into the level below. Crossing them was like walking on air. Other clear patches looked down into aquariums filled with gigantic gold and white koi.
Some of the sliding panes of glass were set with geometric chunks of red or green or blue glass that glittered like multifaceted gems. Other walls were constructed from double panes of glass through which swirling currents of plankton-laden water flowed, glowing a soft blue—a living barrier against astral intrusion.
The rooms were filled with antique furniture: enormous, mirror-fronted wardrobes, velvet-upholstered
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