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glances at the familiar Land Rover coming up alongside, kicking dirt and gravel. "No. Not unless you like eating dirt," he says.
    The Rover door opens roughly, " —fragging Christ, Cara, are you insane?" Her mother swings herself from the seat, careful not to catch any part of her evening dress on the door's accessories. "Have you any idea what your father was doing tonight?"
    Cara turns toward her mother and never changes her expression. "He's still there, right?" she asks.
    "Of course he's there! Did you really think he'd come chasing after you just because of this stupid stunt?"
    "No. No, I guess I didn't."
    "Tonight was important, Cara. Tonight was crucial. The Japanese don't look kindly on executives with unmanageable children."
    "But Daddy didn't come, right?"
    "No he didn't."
    Cara doesn't say any more, only looks back at Chase for a moment before beginning to walk around to the far side of the truck. She brushes some dirt from her arm and then climbs into the passenger side of the Rover. She sits there, waiting.
    "She was where we thought, Mrs. Villiers," he begins, careful about how he addresses her.
    "But how in god's name did she get out of the compound? "
    "She's very good. She must have listened hard at the family security briefings and learned our schedule and procedures. We'll start varying the patterns. That should slow her down some."
    "You'd better. This can't happen again while we're here. She has no idea what she's risking."
    "No," he says, "I think she knows exactly what she's doing."
    He'd spoken to her one last time before the family left.
    She's standing on one of the sundecks watching a pair of falcons dance in flight. She glances over her shoulder as he walks up. "Are you coming to Seattle with us?" She's gotten taller.
    "No, Cara, I'm not. My contract with your family is up. Your mother has decided not to renew it."
    "I got away from you too many times, huh?"
    He nods. That was as good a reason as any.
    "How about you catch me? I could run away again, and you catch me and I tell my mother you were really good, the best." She's watching the falcons avidly.
    "Hmmm," he says, "it might work, but I doubt it. Besides, right now it would only make sense if Deaver caught you. If I was the one, your mother would be suspicious."
    Her lips purse. "I don't like him."
    "Because he's a mage?"
    She shrugs. "He doesn't look at you. He looks in you, like he's watching your mind work. His eyes are really creepy. How could he wear them?" She turns toward him. "Don't they hurt? Doesn't he always know he's got them on?"
    "Cybertechnology is very advanced. Some of it's almost as good as the real parts. You can barely feel them. Deaver's only got a little, his eyes. He mostly relies on his magic."
    She blinks. "Do you have any?"
    "Magic?"
    "Cyber stuff."
    He nods.
    "A lot?"
    "More, I suspect, than I know."
    She turns back toward the birds, but they've gone. Her eyes focus on the faraway mountains. "I don't want any. I'll never want any. I only want me."
    "Sometimes it's not a choice. Like for Deaver… and me, a bit."
    "I don't care," she says. "I don't care."
    Chase knew he needed to fill in those twelve years. He'd heard some stories, read the corporate pages of the tabloids, but wanted to know more. He needed someone who knew where the data could be found and had the talent to get at it. His message ended up in a place where the only reality was electronic. It took a few hours before a response came, and it wasn't from who he expected.
    "Church."
    Chase looked up, surprised. The telecom hadn't beeped, the voice had simply begun and the face simply appeared. She'd cut through the electronic security of his system like it wasn't there. Her appearance was young and carved from mirrorike black stone, her eyes two darts of blue neon. The image showed little more than her face and parts of a gently shifting fractal shoreline behind her, but he knew the gown she wore was in the ancient Greek style and woven from the palest