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amok around here.  I sat on the foot of the bed and finished dressing, considering my next move.
    “Holy, did you find the control room for the cameras, and the camera crew?”
    She didn’t look me in the face, too busy blushing, but she did answer.  “Of, course.  I know my job.”
    “Where’s the room?” I asked.
    “I’d better show you,” Holy said.
    “Fine.”  I stood and moved away from the bed.
    Lillian reached after me.  Delirious, half asleep, she muttered.  “No … don’t go.  We haven’t cuddled yet.”
    I hurried and left the room, my security team falling in behind me.
    No rest for the wicked.
    Broken windows created a cross-breeze in the structure, raising dust.  A shoddy hall with creaking floor boards led me to stairs.  I took them.  Another hall led me to a back-of-the-building, second-story room.  Shiva and Holy took position outside the door, on guard against dust devils and red-eyed rats. 
    Entering the room was like teleporting onto the bridge of a starship.  Not that I’d done that.  Yet.  
    Teresa looked over as I approached.  Panic flashed in her eyes, quickly hidden.  Her compensating smile was too large.  A Czarbucks coffee cup steamed in her hand.  I smelled coffee, cinnamon, and whipped cream. She pushed off of a backless stool, standing.  “Caine, can I help you with something?” 
    I waved her back.  “Just getting the lay of the land.”
    There were three others in the room, manning a long desk that butted up against a wall covered with monitors.  Two of the three crew members wore headphones with mic stems.  Their hands hovered over controls, ready to pounce. 
    The third person was a young, willowy woman wearing a tool belt, a tan ball cap, and khaki slacks.  Her polo shirt was a shade that balanced between salmon and pink.  Her bright pink sneakers had watermelon green laces.  She wore green-dyed hair in a ponytail and over-large glasses.
    An escapee from an anime.
    She looked up at me.  Her glasses caught the lighting, hiding her eyes, dehumanizing her face.  But a flush of color warmed her cheeks.  She ducked her head, looking down again at a black box in her hands, its open case displaying obscure electronics. She ripped out a battery and popped a new one in.  I saw the little antennae then. 
    Wireless mic system.  I’m going to have to watch everything I say around Teresa.  She could be sporting a hidden mic.
    I smiled like a shark swimming past a tuna.   “So, it seems to me like you’re already watching everything and recording the reality stars.  You plan on using this material in the show, right?”
    The two guys with headphones now turned to look at me.  One was bald, old, looking somewhat pasty in his Metallica T-shirt.  His brindle and gray mustache bristled.  The other was a twenty-something kid-faced geek who probably played World of Warcraft in his spare time while chewing pizza.
    Moving quickly, Teresa came around to block my view of her people and what they were doing.  “We need to be ready to go to work as soon as you fix things around here.”
    “Uh-huh.  Sure.” 
    Teresa called over to tech-girl.  “Christie, have you tracked down that intermittent fault that keeps shutting off cameras?”
    “Not yet, but I’m close.”
    She’s lying .  I heard it in her voice, in her heartbeat, too.  I wondered why.
    One of the screens caught my eye.  It displayed Lillian’s bedroom.  She was sitting on the edge of the bed, naked.  From the angle, it seemed likely that a hidden camera was in her chandelier. 
    That’s why I hadn’t seen it.  They don’t want the “stars” to know their privacy is being totally invaded.  Teresa probably has fine print in everyone’s contracts letting her get away with this.  It hit me like a brick.  These guys have a record of my sexual exploits . 
    I had a mental vision of that footage leaking, showing up on TV or in the tabloids, our naughty bits blurred out in