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sure she'd be fresh in the morning, for her next session with him.
    Today, all her clothes had been delivered from the Institute, so she’d finally have something nice to wear for him .  I wonder what Faith’s doing tonight?   The thought made her blink, rapidly.  Normally, they'd have finished their patrol by now.   U nless she'd managed to sneak out so they could have an extra loping run through the night-time woods.  She missed Faith: missed cuddling her, wrestling her; missed her doggy-electric smells.  And those dopey, wolfish grins.
    She wiped at her eyes with her knuckles.  One day I'll go back .
    And what about poor Godsson?  She wondered if anyone here kne w about him?  Surely they would, since they all worked for Eagle?  Maybe she'd ask Emma.
    Emma was nice.   And somehow managed to look classy and sexy and elegant even though she dressed in really covering clothes.  She liked Emma best of everyone here; but James, the other male agent she'd met briefly today, was cute.   Much nicer than grumpy old Preacher .  She'd be eighteen, soon.  She wondered if they'd told James she wasn’t quite eighteen yet: would he say she was “too young?”  She giggled: something told her she'd be finding out soon.
    Preacher, though, seemed… mean.  Grubby .  And he sneered a lot, and his eyes looked kind of hungry.  He'd be teaching her Street Culture.
    The creepiest one of all, though, was “Checkbook.”  She didn't understand him at all .  He hadn't smiled once while he'd been explaining to her about “purchase orders” and “justifying expenses.”  She had no idea what he thought of her.  If she hadn't heard his heart beating, by listening in her special way, she could have believed he was some kind of super-smart android.
    She shuddered.
    “ Father” was nice, if a bit gruff.  Really old – older than Keepie! – but very fit-looking.  Very erect and unbending .  I wonder if I'll be able to make him bend a bit?
    Plus the two younger men, only one of whom she’d met.   She guessed there was something odd about the one they hadn’t introduced her to yet: Nelson.  When Mother and Father had been describing her colleagues to her, they'd exchanged weird looks about him .  Nelson was their “information specialist,” they'd said; “talented” with electronics.  And then they’d stopped, each of them looking kind of constipated.
    From his picture, Nelson looked a bit… pasty.  But intelligent, and maybe excitable.
    She'd examined his picture, hmm-ing while wondering whether she could convince him to exercise with her: build him up a little.  He didn't seem that much older than her, so he should be fun.  But when she'd looked up, Mother had been staring at her chest in disapproval, like there was something wrong with her nipples, and Father was easing back in his chair with his eyes narrowed and sucking in a long breath.
    'What?' she'd demanded. But he’d simply shaken his head, and Mother's dark magenta lips had clamped tightly shut.
    The one she had met, briefly, was called “Little Brother” – which was a pretty lame code-name.  He was a general assistant, earnest-looking in a wishy-washy sort of way.  It'd been him who'd brought her and Uncle inside the Department when they'd first arrived….
    When she and Uncle had been offered their chance to work for the Government, back in Eagle’s office, a door had slid open and two matte black drones had appeared, buzzing powerfully, escorting them down into a maze of tunnels.  She'd tried to remove the special hood and cuffs from her uncle, but they were sealed snugly shut, with no obvious unlocking mechanism.  She'd gotten frustrated, then angry, hurrying sideways through passages trying to keep up with the watching drones.  In the end, with the slicey feeling tingling through her fingertips, she'd slashed his bonds free.  Deadly-looking tubes had sprung from the hovering black bots, and for a full minute no one had